Argent ♝ Bucky Barnes

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Disclaimer: I do not own Allison Argent nor the Avengers. All ownership goes to Jeff Davis and Stan Lee, respectively.

TW: Fear, Violence, Panic attacks, Suicidal ideations

Allison Argent is dead. She's dead. She knows she died. She felt her breathe leave her body, her body grow numb, her sight grow black, the sight of Scott grow black.

Oh, Scott...

The boy she loved. Knowing him, he's going to blame himself (not your fault, only mine). He didn't accept it then, but it was her time, she knew it and deep down, so did he (that's probably why he wanted to save her so much).

So she's not understanding how, or why for that matter, the hell she's alive.

Or why there isn't a hole in her chest.

Then the voices fade in, reaching her ears through layers of cotton and clouds. She listens closely, head pounding, for a familiar one. Her father, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Isaac, hell she'd even take Peter for Christ's sake.

The voices start getting louder, making her headache worse, until it feels like they're screaming (quiet, please, I need quiet).

Logically, she knows they aren't. But her head hurts and she doesn't know where she is or who she's with and she's terrified. She hates being terrified.

She's always terrified ("stop being weak, Allison, you're an Argent").

Then, despite her best efforts to think clearly, the panic sets in. Her heart beats faster, her breath quickens, and her face gets hot. She tries taking deep breathes, clenching and unclenching her fists, reciting the presidents, but she only makes it to Andrew Garfield before she gives up and lets it consume her.

Calm down, Allison. They'll hear you, a voice in the back of her mind says, sounding suspiciously like her mother's. Focus on your sense.

She focuses on her hearing first and the voices around start clearing up. It's working, she can count the voices now. She can feel herself calming down, her panic ebbing.

Good girl, Ally. This time, it's her father's voice, calling her the name he used to, back when things were still simple. Back when she was still a naïve little girl who thought the world of her father. Now, find out where you are. Slowly, sweetheart, no sudden movements.

Her hand twitches, fingers running across the smooth metal table below her. She recognizes the feel of it. Exam table, her mind supplies. And for a moment, she's back at the vets office with Scott and Stiles and Isaac and Lydia, getting ready to drown herself in a tub filled with ice water (I can't breathe help me it hurts).

But she knows she isn't, and tries to counteract the flashback with logic. The vet office always smells like animals, and the air freshener Dr. Deaton uses in vain to cover up the smell of wet dog. And it's warm in here, the clinic is almost always painfully cold.

An unfamiliar, warm hand touches her forehead and her eyes fly open in alarm. She sits up quickly, her head spinning, and immediately screams, startling everyone but herself (oh God, where am I).

Six people surround her, all unfamiliar. No seven, she mentally corrects, eyes flitting to the man hovering in the corner (Is that a metal arm?).