This Is Stella's Reality

September 18, 2014

Hot rain beat down onto the sidewalks of Abidjan. My feet slipped as I raced down the road, heart pounding in my chest. A gunshot rang in my ears, and a bullet whizzed past my head.

"Stella?" Bucky's voice was panicked as he yelled over the comms. This was supposed to be an in-and-out mission, retrieve hostages from a casino in Côte d'Ivoire, and return home.

"Bucky," my voice panted as I continued to speed down the busy streets. People screamed, seeing the men chasing me down the road with guns in hand. I could hardly hear them. "Where are you?"

"I've located the agents. I can bring them back to the quinjet," another shot whizzed past me, loud and echoing in my head. "Are you being shot at?"

"Yeah," I felt like throwing up, "things went a little south on my end."

How did I get here? Oh, right, Nick Fury. I had been texted that morning from an encrypted number, "SHIELD agents held hostage. JARVIS has location. Quintjet on roof. Leave immediately." Bucky had gotten the same message. I had done these missions time and time again, always without issue, but the intel we had been given was bad. Bucky and I needed a team, we were overwhelmed.

"Stel? Answer me, please," Bucky's voice was loud in my ear, bringing me back to reality.

"Go again, Buck?"

His voice was urgent, "Where are you?"

I huffed, "Just get the hostages. I think the entire casino is behind me right now, you should have a clear exit."

"I'm not leaving without you," he sounded angry that I had said it.

Another gunshot rang in the echo of the streets, "The hostages are our top priority, get them to the jet, now."

There was silence. I wondered what was going through Bucky's head.

We had split up before entering the casino. Bucky would locate the hostages while I monitored potential threats. He had made me swear to be careful. I thought I had been. Perhaps I was too obviously out of place. I was short, not as thin and pretty as the other girls there, awkward and uncomfortable. I suppose I stuck out like a sore thumb.

Men had cornered me on the second floor. I looked desperately for Bucky, but he had disappeared to be good at his job. I panicked, my French out of practice and rusty. I stumbled over my words, trying to gain their trust with flirting. They didn't believe me.

"Stella," his voice was stern and rough, "where the fuck are you."

I sighed, looking for any indicators of my location, "I ran right. I'm still near the bay, passing a grocery store." I was out of breath, "Uh, I'm passing a lot of bars. There's a hotel on my left, uh... Le Wafou."

"I'm coming."

How long would that take?

My feet still pounded down the sidewalk. The rain made my hair stick to my face, falling into my eyes and blurring my vision. There were so many people out, screaming and running when they heard the gunshots. Fury is going to kill me.

Suddenly, searing pain ripped through my left shoulder. I stumbled to the ground from the inertia of the bullet that had struck me. I landed with a hard thud on the concrete, turning as the men chasing me neared, their guns drawn, screaming in French. I flew my hand to my shoulder, watching as the rain waterfalled down, red and thick from the wound.

Tears brimmed in my eyes. I couldn't hear anymore, sick to my stomach, and my chest heaving. I blinked the rain from my eyes. Glancing around, there are so many civilians, watching. I held up my right hand, my blue magic glowing. The men backed up, bewildered. I didn't want to use my magic with so many innocent people around. It would be too easy for them to get hurt.