𝑾𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑺 ━━ 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜

35 Playing It Wrong

The hospital room was steeped in quiet tension. Rhodey lay motionless inside the CT scanner, the faint hum of the machine the only sound in the oppressive stillness. His body was draped in a sterile blue gown, the stark contrast of his vibrant presence now reduced to this fragile stillness. Tony Stark paced restlessly near Vision, his usually controlled demeanor cracked, frustration and guilt pouring out in every heavy step.

Alora stood by the wall, arms wrapped tightly around herself as though holding herself together. Her trembling hands betrayed the storm within, the sheer helplessness she had felt when they realized no one could reach Rhodey in time. Her furrowed brows and hard-set jaw might have conveyed anger, but her bloodshot eyes told a deeper truth—fear.

Tony's voice finally broke the suffocating silence. "How did this happen?"

Vision stood near the scanner, his usual composure marred by guilt. "I became distracted."

Tony halted mid-step, his head snapping toward Vision, his expression a mixture of disbelief and bitterness. "I didn't think that was possible."

"Neither did I," Vision admitted, his voice heavy with remorse.

Tony's sharp inhale signaled his restraint fraying at the edges. He turned abruptly and stalked out of the room, unable to bear the weight of Vision's words or the sight of his friend lying broken and immobile.

Alora's gaze lingered on Tony as he left, her chest tightening at the sight of his retreating figure. But her attention snapped back to Vision, her eyes narrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut glass. She took a step forward, her voice low and biting.

"Distracted?" she repeated, her tone dripping with venom. "Is that what you're calling it? We all saw you back there, Vision. Let's not pretend this was just some random lapse. That distraction has a name, and you know it."

Vision's head tilted slightly, his expression unreadable, but his silence only inflamed her further.

"You couldn't keep your damn focus because you were too busy looking after her—after Wanda!" Alora's voice cracked, her anger teetering on the edge of something deeper. "And now Rhodey's—" She stopped herself, her hands trembling as she struggled to steady her breathing.

Vision opened his mouth as if to respond, but Alora didn't give him the chance. Her emotions surged like a tidal wave, and she could feel the temperature of her body rising, heat flushing her cheeks as frustration and helplessness overwhelmed her.

She clenched her fists at her sides, forcing herself to take a step back. "Forget it," she spat, her voice quieter but no less cutting. "Just—stay out of my way."

Without another word, she turned on her heel and marched out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. Her body still felt hot, her emotions simmering beneath the surface. As she moved further away, she pressed a hand against the cold metal wall, trying to ground herself.

It wasn't just Vision. It was everything. The team, Rhodey, Steve leaving, Kalum following him—it was all falling apart, and she didn't know how much more she could take.

In the end, it wasn't Vision's fault, not entirely. But Alora wasn't ready to admit that. Not yet. Not when everything hurt so much.

She caught up to Tony near the hallway outside the radiology department. He leaned against the wall, his head hanging low, one hand gripping his temple. Alora hesitated, watching him. He was the genius, the billionaire, the man who always had a plan. But now? Now he looked small, diminished by the weight of failure.