Rescue Mission (Stark's Daughter 8)

Chapter 21

The smell of toast fills my nose, soft and crunchy. Titling my head up on the sofa, I look to see Zeke walking into the living room. He carries a tray and all I can see, from where I am lying, is from his waist down.

"What do you want?" I grumble.

Zeke walks over to the coffee table, placing the tray of toast and coffee down. He sits on the edge of the table and looks at the ground, clasping his hands in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Skye. I had to give SHIELD the disc because I knew they would search for it if you didn't, and I know there are some things you want to keep hidden."

"I just don't see why Zeke." I mutter.

"I'm sorry, I had to."

"Whatever." I whisper, turning my back on him so my face is against the leather back of the sofa.

I hear Zeke curse under his breath and stand up, then his heavy angry feet get quieter as he storms off.

*

Pulling the blue hoodie over my head, I push my arms into the sleeves. Zeke stands in the doorway of our bedroom, his eyes running over me with worry as he leans against the wooden doorframe. He crosses his arms over his chest and stands straighter in his shirt and jeans.

"Are you still mad at me?" Zeke asks.

Pulling on my boots, I glance over at him.

"Yep."

Staring at the floor, I hear Zeke walk over to me and see him kneel in front of me. He holds my hands, stopping me from putting on my shoes and grabbing my attention. His emerald eyes look up to me, shining curiously and begging.

"Skye, I'm sorry."

Looking down at him, I narrow my eyes in confusion. This seems familiar.

*

Zeke sighs, kneeling on the floor in front of me. His hands grip mine on my knees and he looks up at me with sympathy filled eyes. Already dressed in a black funeral suit.

"Skye, you have to, babe. I know it's hard, but I'm going to be with you every step of the way and I won't leave you, okay?" Zeke promises.

I nod.

"Now, let's take baby steps. First, you're going to get dressed. That's it. You are just going to get dressed and nothing else."

Zeke pulls me onto my feet and helps me get undressed, then slips my dress over my head. Sitting down, I pin up some of my hair but let the rest shower down while Zeke ties the straps to my pumps.

*

I shake my head quickly as the emotions drown into my mind again. Standing up quickly, I ignore Zeke asking if I'm okay. Pushing past him, I race out of the bedroom. My lungs seem to give up, grasping on for breath as I reach the top of the glass stairs. I gasp for breath, attempting to hold on. I feel like someone has a tight grip around my throat, cutting off my windpipe. My knees slip beneath me and my legs hit the ground. Feeling familiar arms wrap around me and place me safely on the ground, I swallow quickly and after a few agonising seconds my breathing returns to normal.

"Skye? Are you okay?" Zeke's voice is in my ear.

"Cap's funeral." I whisper.

Zeke pulls me into his lap on the top of the stairs, my legs curled up by his waist and my face hidden in his chest. He pulls me closer and tight, his arms wrapping around my body.

"It's okay. It wasn't real. It's okay now."

*

Groaning loudly through my teeth, I sit up in my bed and pull the duvet tight around my shoulders. On the bedside table is a mug of fresh coffee and a small plate of plain biscuits. My head spins quickly like it's on a wheel.

"Skye?"

My eyes dart up to Zeke, he sits in the armchair by the door and smiles instantly at me. His face seems dull, sunk with the need to sleep.

"Yes?" I mutter.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Now, why don't I believe you?" Zeke questions.

"Because I had a panic attack. Yes, I know exactly what it was that happened and that's not the first time it has happened." I admit.

"How often do you have panic attacks, Skye, and be honest?"

"Not often, maybe 10 times a year."

"That's still more than normal."

"There's nothing you can do, Zeke." I point out.

"Are you sure about that?" he quizzes.

Standing up, Zeke strolls over to the bed and climbs on. He smirks largely and I can't help but laugh at him.