𝗦 𝗜 𝗟 𝗩 𝗘 𝗥

24 | "Easy, pet. You look like death warmed over."

Jada gasps awake, her heart hammering in her chest. The cold floor of the shop is unforgiving against her aching body. Blinking rapidly, she tries to push through the disorienting haze. Her bloodied clothes cling to her skin, and her limbs feel like lead. Slowly, painfully, she pushes herself up, a groan escaping her lips as the wound in her side protests sharply. You've got this, the thought sits in her mind.

"Damn it," she mutters, patting herself down in search of her phone, her fingers trembling. It's gone. Of course it's gone. She leans back against the counter, wincing as her ribs send another jolt of pain through her. She has to get in touch with them. Sam, Bucky, Loki... anyone. The chaos outside has quieted but that doesn't mean she's safe.

Trying to keep herself up, she reaches for the landline on the counter, cradling the receiver with one blood-slicked hand while the other dials Sam's number. The line crackles, then goes dead with a maddening beep. She swears under her breath, slamming the phone down with more force than intended. The sharp sound echoes in the empty shop.

"Think, Jada, think," she mutters, forcing herself to her feet. Her legs threaten to give out beneath her, but she catches herself against the counter. Each breath sends a fresh wave of pain through her side, very very sharp pain, but she grits her teeth and limps toward the front door.

She hesitates before opening it, pressing an ear against the wood. The streets outside, once filled with the sounds of gunfire and explosions, are now eerily quiet. Cautiously, she turns the knob and opens the door just a crack, peeking through the small gap.

The scene before her is disturbing. Cars are overturned, fires burn in the distance, and debris litters the streets. Her eyes catch a flash of red and gold — Tony, soaring through the air, firing at the agents scattered below him. The glow of his repulsor beams cuts through the smoky sky, but the sight doesn't comfort her as it normally would. They're still outnumbered, and she's cut off from the people she trusts most.

Letting out a huff, Jada pulls back into the shop, shutting the door behind her. She turns, her back pressing against the wood for support. As her vision clears, a figure stands before her, leaning casually against the shelves. Julian. He's dressed in black, his familiar smirk tugging at his lips, and a gun casually aimed in her direction.

Jada's heart skips and instinct kicks in immediately. She stiffens, her muscles screaming. Her hand instinctively moves to the dagger strapped to her thigh, though she knows she's in no condition to fight. Not against him.

Julian's smirk widens. "Easy, pet. You look like death warmed over. Not exactly a fair fight. I'm stilling deciding what I want to do with you."

She narrows her eyes, breathing through the pain as she glares at him. "You seriously want to do this now?"

He chuckles, his voice low as he steps forward, still keeping his gun trained on her. "Oh, sweet, little, Jada. Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this? Watching you run around, playing the hero. Today's been... entertaining, to say the least."

Jada swallows hard, her pulse hammering in her ears. Despite everything,a part of her still remembers the boy she used to trust, the boy who once had her back. But this man before her, who's been hunting her and hurting her, he's colder now. Hardened by whatever has twisted him in the years since.

"I wish I said this when I first saw you but you've changed," she says quietly. "You're not the same person I knew."

Julian arches an eyebrow at that, lowering the gun slightly but still keeping it in hand. His eyes glint with a mix of amusement. "Enlighten me, then, sweetheart," he drawls, stepping even closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do you think I've become?"