EMERALD ━ the winter soldier | 2

0.4

"Captain Rogers? Miss Owens?" Someone called, drawing the attention of both Steve and Mal. A blonde woman holding a gun came into view, looking around cautiously. "Captain, I'm Agent 13 of SHIELD Special Service." She explained, lowering her gun. "I'm assigned to protect you."

"On whose order?" Steve asked sharply, and her eyes trail down to Fury lying injured on the ground.

"His." She said simply, kneeling next to Fury, before pulling out a walkie talkie. "Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive. I need EMTs." The words rang in Mal's mind as she fought off the panic building up inside of her.

"Do you have a twenty on the shooter?" An Agent asked through the walkie. Steve focused his attention on the window, seeing the shooter. He looks back at Mal, who sucked in a shaky breath before nodding.

"Tell him I'm in pursuit." The woman nods, and Steve sprints out of the room. The woman, Agent 13, looks at Mal's shaking and bloody hands.

"Mal," She said gently, coaxing the girl to look up. "My name is Sharon, okay? Right now, I need your help, can you do that?" Mal knew what she was trying to do – distract her, make her focus on something else other than the panic. She knew, and she appreciated.

"Okay," Mal said shakily, putting pressure on the wound again.

–•–•–

Natasha rushed into the room, meeting up with Steve as they watch the doctors operate on Fury.

"Is he gonna make it?" She asks quietly. Steve is quiet, thinking it over in his mind.

"I don't know." He said softly, shaking his head. It was a waiting game now.

"Where's Mal?" Natasha asked, noticing that the younger girl wasn't in the room.

"I'm here." A voice called out as Mal entered the room, moving to stand between the two. Natasha turned to look at her, a frown etched onto her face. There was dried blood caked onto Mal's hands, and splotches of it on her shirt, though those were harder to see because of the black fabric. There were still bruises on her face and a cut above her left eye that was still healing. Blood was smudged across her forehead, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She looked so defeated it hurt.

"Tell us about the shooter." Mal said before Natasha could say anything regarding her current state. Steve sighed, knowing that Mal needed a distraction right now.

"He's fast and strong. Had a metal arm." Just then Maria Hill joins them, approaching the group and placing a gentle hand on Mal's shoulder.

"Ballistics?" Natasha asks, glancing over at Maria.

"Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable." Maria relayed what she knew to them.

"Soviet-made." Natasha said in quiet realization, and Maria nodded in confirmation. They watch in shock as Fury's state deteriorates, and Mal clenched her bloody fists. The words of the nurses and doctors don't quite reach her ears. She can only watch in shock as they try to resuscitate him several times. When the doctor stops, Mal can see that the monitor still shows him flatlining.

Suddenly, she's back in the Helicarrier, watching Coulson die all over again. She's hearing the news about Rosa and Alexis. She's reminded of watching her parents die before her own eyes. Before anyone could stop her, she had ran out of the room.

–•–

Mal found herself on the roof of the hospital, knowing that no one would bother her up there. Her chest was constricting and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Everyone keeps dying. Her parents, Alexis, Rosa, Coulson, Fury – they were all dead. Mal was beginning to wonder why she got everyone she loved killed.

Mal slid down against one of the walls that was around the door she had come out of. Her phone was gripped tightly in her hand as tears spilled from her eyes. She couldn't call Natasha or Steve, they were still in the hospital. Clint was away, Thor was off-world and didn't even have a phone – the options were dwindling down. Shakily, Mal called the one person she knew could relate to her nightmare's about New York, and the person she had texted at insane hours of the night, and immediately got a text back, no matter what.

"Mal?" At the sound of Tony's voice, Mal felt the panic attack hit her full force. She let out a sob, and Tony's voice softened. "Kiddo, honey, what's wrong?" Mal couldn't tell him about Fury, the wound was still so fresh, and she couldn't bring herself to get the words out.

"Panic," She gasped out, her voice cracking. Her free hand was grasping at her shirt, as if tugging it away from her chest would help her breathe easier. Tony understood immediately, and he only wished he could be there to comfort her in person.

"Slow it down, Mal, it's okay. Breathe in slow through your nose, out through your mouth." Mal did as instructed, taking a few deep breaths. Her panicked heart rate began to slowly even out, but it did little to stop her tears. "It's okay, you're safe, no ones gonna hurt you." Tony soothed. Mal wanted to scream that it wasn't true. That Fury's blood was still dried on her hands, her side still hurt from her fractured ribs, she still had wounds that were healing from the accident. But she didn't, because she didn't want to worry him. Mal knew that if she said anything, Tony would be flying down within the hour, and she didn't want that.

"I'm sorry." Mal muttered miserably once she could speak again.

"No, Mal. It's okay. I'm here, you know that." Tony said without hesitation, and Mal knew that he meant it.

"Thank you," She said softly, wiping away stray tears. "I love you." Mal didn't mean for the words to come out, but she couldn't stop them. There was a brief pause, before Tony replied.

"I love you, too, kid."