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Every movement felt like shards of glass stabbing into every inch of her skin.
She had to fight through the pain. She always had to fight through the pain. She wasn't allowed to hurt or to be injured. She had a mission and she couldn't rest until it was finished. That's how she was trained. That's how she was raised.
"Agent Marks, you sound injured. Stay where you are and I'll come get you," Steve's staticky voice ordered over the comms.
Elizabeth winced, taking another step before, leaning against the wall to rest again.
"Don't worry about me, Boy Scout. I've got it from here," Elizabeth said, disguising her pain with a sly tone.
"Leave Agent Hot Badass alone. We've got a mission, Rogers," Tony scoffed into the comms.
"Lizzie, you okay?" Tony asked, his voice staticky.
"Like I said, I'm fine. I have a job to do and so do you," Elizabeth said firmly, trying not to gasp in pain.
"Yes ma'am," Steve said into the comms.
Elizabeth struggled to the staircase. She knew she needed to get up to the main floor. She needed to help. She couldn't leave her fellow agents to fight this alone. She needed to be there. She had to push herself forward no matter how much it hurt. She slowly climbed the destroyed staircase, unable to breathe most of the way. She felt like her lungs were being constricted to the size of a pea.
By the time she had finally made it up the stairs, she feared that her body might actually break all together. Most of the fighting had stopped. It seemed as though the enemy was either dead or gone.
"Agent Coulson is down," Director Fury's sad voice came over the comms.
Elizabeth slid down the wall in shock. She had been shot, stabbed, tortured, beaten, pushed so close to death that she had stopped caring whether or not she took another breath-- but she had never felt pain like this. This was different.
Not Phil. Not Phil. Not Phil. Not Phil. Not Phil.
She wouldn't believe it until she saw it herself. She couldn't. She didn't want to believe it.
She pushed herself to her feet, stumbling after the medical team who had just run past her. The scene before her shook her to her core.
She had seen a lot of death-- more than a person should ever have to see. But this was different-- this was Phil.
His blood stained body just sat there, propped up against the wall, staring at them. He held a giant gun in his limp arms.
