(Y/n) sat slumped against the wall of the abandoned building, her comms were broken and she was out of bullets, meaning that she had no way of contacting the rest of the team, and if one the arms dealers men came around the corner, the only thing that she had to defend herself was the bowie knife that Doc had gifted her for her birthday.
As she tried to stand, the pain of the gunshot wound to her leg sent agonising electrical impulses that seemed to radiate through out her entire body causing her to fall back to the floor, back to sitting in the pool of her own blood that seemed to be getting larger by the minute. She had put a tourniquet above the wound, using her belt to try and stop the flow of the crimson liquid that seemed to be running in torrents from the wound; but no matter how tight she tried to make it, the blood carried on flowing.
One more time she tried to raise someone, anyone, on the comms, even though she knew that there was no hope it wasn't in her to give up, and as far as (Y/n) was concerned, the fat lady still wasn't ready to sing just yet.
(Y/n) pulled out the bowie knife from behind her back and looked at the inscription on the blade that had been etched in in a beautiful script. "To the only girl that could kick my ass. Doc." (Y/n) couldn't help but smile, the relationship between her and Doc had always been "complicated", and since the team had sprung him from his eight year imprisonment, their relationship had once again become the same complicated.
(Y/n) had joined the team not long after Barney and the others had founded the Expendables, and she had always had a good relationship with Barney and even Conrad, but with Doc it was different. To begin with she couldn't stand the big man, finding him annoying, their verbal stoushes often having to be broken up by the rest of the team; but after one particular fight that had actually turned physical, culminating in (Y/n) handing Doc's ass to him on a platter, the pair had ended up on the floor with Doc on top of her in a very compromising position, resulting the two combatants ending up as naked as the day they were born, in the nearest bed they could find.
From that moment on, the two former rivals had become the perfect team, much to the shock of the others, who weren't seemingly able to figure out what had changed between the pair.
When Doc had decided to go off on his own and take the job of assassinating some tin pot political figure, in some god forsaken country, (Y/n) had tried desperately to talk him out of it, telling him at the time that he could get caught without the rest of the team, or even worse, get himself killed; but despite her protestations, one morning she woke to find that her lover had gone, leaving a simple note that told her not to worry, that he would be home soon, and that he would take her to Bora Bora, where they would forget about the world, about the team, and just enjoy what they had.
As the days had turned into weeks, and then into months, (Y/n) and the team had tried everything to find out what had happened to the medic, their fears for his safety growing along with the length of his disappearance; but eventually the others had been able to move on, as more and more missions had come up, and as old members were replaced with new ones. (Y/n) though had not found it so easy, neither her nor Doc had told the others about their relationship, so she suffered in silence, throwing herself into each and every mission and job that the team was given, with little regard for her own life.
Then one day, Barney received the intel that nearly caused a usually tough (Y/n) to drop in a dead faint; Doc was alive and had been imprisoned for all those years, but soon he would be moved, and a plan was made to get back the man they called, Doc Death.
As she had sat looking at him in the back of the plane, watching the big knife cutting through his matted hair, lumps of it falling unceremoniously to the floor, she couldn't help but feel angry; angry that he was so unapologetic for leaving her, angry that she had waited so long for a man that obviously no longer cared, angry at the fool she was.
Doc had hardly said a word to her since he had got home, and (Y/n) had, in turn, tried to avoid getting into the fight that she knew would ensue if they were ever to discuss what had happened; but one night as she sat at the bar, the boys playing poker or pool, and enjoying a well earned beer, Doc had joined her.
"So?" He had said, sitting down on the barstool next to her, watching as she stared into her glass.
"You know, there was only one thing that kept me from going crazy in that place, and that was that I had promised that I would take my girl to Bora Bora, and we would have those fancy drinks with all that fruit and paper umbrellas; and that we would make love in the sand under a big moon like they do on those romantic movies." Doc said, reminding her of the conversations they used to have as they snuggled up under a blanket on the sofa, watching stupid quiz shows together.
"So, you don't talk to me, then you come over and remind me of everything that you promised me; but because you are a big dumb idiot, who wouldn't listen to common sense, never delivered. Is that the best you can come up with?" (Y/n) had asked, choosing to keep her eyes on her glass despite the fact that Doc was now gripping her hand in his.
"Well, I'm a little outta practice, I haven't seen my girl in a long time, and I know that she's angry at me, so I thought that it would be prudent to let her cool off, you know, just in case she decided that she didn't love me anymore." Doc said, feeling slightly more confident in the fact that (Y/n) hadn't punched him yet.
"So, you think that I might still love you? What could possibly give you a stupid idea like that?" (Y/n) had asked, finally looking up from the glass to find Doc smiling at her.
"Well, the fact that you haven't kicked my ass yet, and also the fact that you're still holding my hand." Doc told her, moving his stool a little closer.
"Yeah well, I'm working up to it; and don't think that you don't owe me for leaving me alone all these years." (Y/n) huffed, smiling slightly as Doc kissed her on the cheek.
"Don't worry beautiful, I'll do more than make it up to you."
>>---------------------------------<<
(Y/n) shook her head, fighting away not only the memories, but also trying to keep herself conscious.
"(Y/N)!" A voice shouted out, though it sounded faint through (Y/n)'s muffled mind, the lose of blood finally taking its toll on her body.
"Jesus Christ!" (Y/n) stay with me honey." Doc said, as he knelt by her side, the rest of the team crowding around the pair.
"We're gonna get ya outta here, just stay with me." Doc told her, as he picked her up and took her to the truck.
As the team sat in the plane, Doc removed the bullet from (Y/n)'s leg, and set up an IV, using Toll as the blood donor.
"You gotta stay with me (Y/n), I can't lose you sweetheart." Doc said quietly, ignoring the inquisitive look from Toll.
"Doc." (Y/n) croaked, trying to grip onto his hand, as he came to sit next to her on the makeshift bed that the boys had set up.
"You know you still owe me that trip to Bora Bora, with those fancy fruit drinks, and the sun and the sand; so don't go thinking that I am going to let you get away with it again." (Y/n) said, trying to fight off the drowsiness that was taking over her body.
"Anything you want sweetheart. Now rest, and I'll wake you when we get home." Doc told her, brushing the hair from her face.
Doc smiled to himself; (Y/n) wasn't out of the woods just let, and the wound would take some healing; but this time he wasn't gonna lose what he had, and this time when he promised his girl Bora Bora, that was exactly what she would get, fruit drinks and all.