"Stop! STOP!!"
A ringing in your ears and all you could hear was your heavy breathing as you stood outside on the side of the road, near a patch of woods, stumbling a bit to find balance, three more bodies in the back of the van and a driver through the windshield.
The woman – Agent Hill or something, was screaming at you with her hand out, the other holding her gun weakly towards your chest, but she knew in seconds she could be just like her coworkers. Her face was splattered with blood, her shoulder probably dislocated, and there was a bloody gash staining her trousers. A cut to her lip and her forehead, but you saw her eyes. Pleading for mercy, for explanation, for the last few minutes back before it all went to shit.
"I think..." You started and she was still breathing heavily, as you lifted your hands, palms up, to examined them as you peered down, but they were covered in blood and shaking – you couldn't feel anything, "I think I've lost my mind."
"It's okay, it's okay," She rushed, trying not to wheeze in pain as she clutched her side with a cringe, the hand raising the gun towards you losing purpose, "It's okay, we can help you. We can help you. Someone..."
She collapsed to the ground, losing her grip on the gun completely, and you rushed over, making her panic when she thought you were going for her discarded weapon, but then you were sliding to your knees to help her sit up.
You were running out of time. Her people would be here soon once they caught wind of what happened, and you should start running immediately.
You gave a longing glance over to the wooded area, reminding you of all the times you ran until your legs gave out.
Today was the day.
You walked out into the woods with a newfound determination, on your way to Natasha's yard because you were finally going to show her your treehouse. You made it yourself and you felt happy. It was Friday, but The Butcher didn't come yesterday, so you were feeling like a massive boulder was off your shoulders, so light and relieved. Sure, you were nervous to show someone something you've never shared with anyone else before, but you grew to trust this girl as much as you think you could with anyone. She was like the Shawn to your Corey or the Dorothy to your Rose. You're Fran Fine and she's – anyway. Point is, you think you found a friend and you're really happy about it. You're pretty sure this is what happiness feels like anyway. It's new and excited and you feel like you're floating on clouds.
A week ago, you told her on one of the programs you saw that a couple of people who were very close carved their initials into a tree, and you thought that was so cool. And yesterday, she came up to you with determination, without Yelena by her side, surprisingly, with a special looking dagger in her hands. She said she bought it in town because it had vines etched into the handle and reminded her of the woods – everything to do with nature did, but she knew you wanted to carve something, so she got it for you. As another gift when she had given you the book a few months ago. You beamed at her and immediately showed her the tree you liked the most. She was smiling as you worked on carving out your chosen name's first letter with your tongue tucked between your teeth as you focused. Then she raised her eyebrows, her lips twitching into an even bigger smile as she looked down shyly, realizing you were adding an 'N' too.
Then, before you left yesterday, you told her you'd see her tomorrow, and you. You. Hugged. Her. It took her by surprise since she was always the one to initiate any hugging, but she hugged you back a second after the shock wore off. She buried her face into your neck, and you could feel her smiling with her eyes tightly squeezed shut. You chuckled lightly into the air, and you felt lighter than what filled your lungs.
