NOT ANOTHER TEEN MOVIE ∙ Peter Parker

☆ Chapter Fourteen: Parasite Lost

"You're not saying here, and I need to go back to the Triskelion."

Lizzie didn't want to. Her lip trembled, and she quickly turned her head to ignore the build-up of tears that were threatening to spill again. Without looking at Sharon, she nodded reluctantly. She'd given up on the fight a few minutes ago—or hours ago. She wasn't sure. The time of day had disappeared after she walked into the apartment. Everything happened quickly. Sharon's coms went off, and before she even had the chance to explain anything or understand, Steve was racing off after the person who shot straight through his apartment wall at Director Fury.

Fury, whose body she saw lying in his own pool of blood. Lizzie's mind was already building up its brick wall of the image, and she flinched the minute her memory reminded her of the sight. The drive to the Triskelion was silent. She just watched as the police lights disappeared the further they drove away until they were gone completely. The sunrise replaced them, and she realized then just how long it had actually been since everything happened. How long had she been sitting on those steps?

"Lizzie, I need you to tell me if you're okay."

Sharon's question fell on deaf ears. Lizzie did not reply, only stared blankly ahead until they pulled into the Triskelion. She got out of the car without much protest, glancing down at her feet. She didn't remember putting on shoes either, but they were now there. She didn't remember a lot of the things that she did in the last few hours. Sharon got to the front door of S.H.I.E.L.D. and scanned in, and just like that, the quiet morning erupted into chaos the moment they entered. What used to feel like Disneyland felt like a circus now.

"—killed him."

"That's a ghost story—"

"I can't believe Director Fury—"

"He's dead."

Lizzie was just blindly following behind Sharon by now, and it wasn't until she was walking into a room that she realized where she was being guided. Instantly, Monroe stood up and walked over to them, exhausted and heavy with emotion. His eyes were on Lizzie as she stared at the ground and his frown deepened when he noticed how shaken up she was. He turned to Sharon, his jaw tightening when she gave him a pleading look, her hand holding onto Lizzie's arm.

"I need you to watch her for me."

Monroe didn't protest, just reached to grab a hold of Lizzie, his eyes still on Sharon as she turned around. "Where are you going?"

"Pierce requested to speak with me for a debriefing," she explained, and then she paused before she left. Turning back briefly, she let her eyes fall on her little sister before landing on him. "You don't let her leave your sight, you hear me? If you can't reach me, call Agent Mayfield. She's leaving the hospital right now. Watch her."

"I will."

Sharon disappeared out the door after that, leaving Monroe behind with Lizzie. Already, he could feel the air in the room be sucked out of all its life. Slowly, he walked over to where she was standing so that he could look at her. Her body was shivering, whether she knew it or not, but he was unsure if it was from her clothes or the shock. Both, he presumed. Her hair was a mess, ponytail half undone, and her fingers desperately clutched the metal chain around her neck with two dog tags on it.

Her disheveled appearance did not compare to the look in her eyes when she finally raised her head. Lizzie always had some of the brightest eyes, even in their brown hue. A determined spark was always set in them, always eager. Always ready for more. They were dead now. They had lost their spark, and there was nothing staring back at him in that moment but absolute pain.