Iron Will (sequel to Iron Soul)

Chapter Thirty: The Unforgiven III

Jet's POV

        Pain is only temporary.... I groan loudly, pain covering my body. Pain is only temporary... I open my eyes slowly, a blinding pain covering every centimeter of my eyelids and around my eyes. Pain changes people, change for the good.... I manage to open my eyes and scream. My scream only seems to cause more pain though and tears spring from my eyes. Pain only makes you stron- oh fuck this! This hurts like a bitch!! I scream out in pain again and glance around the room. I'm in a stark white room that's filled with various machines. Apparently a nurse hears me because she sprints into the room and to my aid. She holds a cup of water up to my lips that I sip from gratefully. She picks up a syringe that's on the table next to me and shoves it into my arm. I watch as the needle disappears into my flesh and the liquid rushes into me.

        "You should begin to feel some relief in 30 minutes." she explains, typing something into the computer next to me. I try to nod but I find myself only gritting my teeth and moaning even louder. "That was a shot of Morphine." I try to nod but the same result. "Maybe you should just keep your head still. That's what I would recommend but, I don't know, you're a rebellious one." I furrow my brows as to ask why but only find more pain in it's place. I groan again loudly. "Try to keep your head and face still. The grafts are still adhering. You'll be in pain for about two weeks. No going back into the field until the new cells adhere properly and your skin is pliable and strong enough to get back out there. We have to wait until your skin becomes one again." Confusion passes over me in a wave. She must sense this because she picks up a mirror from the cart next to her and holds it in front of my face. I gasp, causing more pain, at the sight of my skin. It looks like patch work, like differing pieces of skin were laid all over me and attached with glue. I glance down at my arms to see them in the same condition. I move my fingers and watch as my muscles glide under the new skin. I decide to try my voice out for the first time.

        "How did I get here?" My voice is rough and quiet and the movement of my lips and face is enough to make me blink away tears.

        "You don't remember?" she asks, eyes widened. I try to shake my head but it hurts too much. "You were on a mission that went sour. You were in Captain America's apartment and then got struck by one of Tony Stark's beams. You had a lot of bad burning, ranging from second degree in some small places to fourth in others. It was mostly third degree though, so you received some skin grafts. You only got them on the effected skin, so anything that was exposed at the time of the hit. You've been in a natural coma for about four days." I let everything skin in. Slowly details come back to me. That man. His worry... I think he called me Jet? Who was he and why did he act like he knew every detail about me? The nurse leaves the room and starts walking down the hall. He really looked like he knew me, and the way he kissed me... it felt right, nice even. I close my eyes and try to picture him again. His blonde hair, his beautiful blue eyes, the muscles that covered his arms. The way his arms hugged me so tightly, even though he knew that I was there to harm him, to kill him. He wasn't afraid, it was almost like he welcomed his death. He's crazy, that's all that I can say. I finally start to feel the pain subside and open my eyes again. A man in a black suit walks in the room and gives me another shot. Whatever he injected me with causes me to close my eyes. I feel my memories begin to slip away. I try so desperately to hold on to the memory of the Captain. One name comes to mind. Steve.

Tony's POV

        I tap my hands on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. I have long since stopped paying attention to what song is even playing or the artist. Rain falls onto the roof and hood of my Corvette, flowers, an umbrella, and a towel resting in the passenger seat next to me. I'm stuck waiting at a red light, no traffic coming from either directions. Time ticks away slowly, my life wasting away with every passing second. My thoughts seem to be frozen, my mind that's usually reeling is still and quiet. Jet was in the hospital with second, third, and fourth degree burns, and then was taken from the hospital by Hydra. We should have known- no- I should have known, this is all my fault after all. If she would have just known she was adopted she wouldn't have ran away, she wouldn't have gotten in a crash, Hydra wouldn't have taken her, she would have never been in that room under the label of "threat", and she would have never been hit by the beam and burned terribly. She would be with us in S.H.I.E.L.D., safe, sound.

        The light finally turns green as I sigh. I drive on through it and down the road. Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas comes on the radio. The words sink in and ring true. I sing along quietly, tapping my hands along with the drums. My heartaches even more, the drums reminding me of Jet and her marching band years. I pull into the cemetery and lower the music. I drive until I reach the area I know too well. I turn off the car and take a deep breath. This never gets any easier, nor will it ever. I grab the towel, the umbrella, and the flowers. They're white roses, her favorite. I open the door, sliding my keys into my pockets. I open the umbrella and step out. The rain begins to fall even harder sending a bone chilling cold throughout my body. I begin to walk up the slight hill until it flattens out. I walk to their grave and set the towel down on the rain soaked grass. I sit down on top of it and cross my legs. I sigh as I read their names. Howard Stark and Maria Stark. I choke back my tears and wipe their names with my sleeve. I put the flowers into the small vase and stare at them as the rain forms perfect droplets on its petals.

        "Hey mom, hey dad." I say quietly to them. "I'm... I'm in a really rough place and I, I don't know what to do and I really need you but you're- you're kinda go-" I can't finish the sentence, my tears limiting my voice. "I really messed up dad. Jet's gone, and she's hurt beyond repair, I was supposed to protect her! I promised her that the day she was born and I failed. I got too caught up in my own needs to not see that Jet wasn't the same girl that she was when I left her. She was in pain and needed me and I failed! What kind of a father does that?" I sniffle and wipe my tears off of my face. "Mom, what should I do? I'm so lost and- I- I just can't do this! I need you guys... so much more than I have ever needed you.... mom, dad, I need you." I use a few seconds to compose myself, wiping the tears off my skin with the heel of my hand. I take a big and shaky breath.

        "Just, if you could help me out somehow, that would be great. I really need it right now." My eyes look over their names again. They're six feet under me, but gone too many years. I remember back to when I first lost them, the pain, the depression, the loneliness. I run a hand through my hair. I imagine that Jet went through the same thing that I did. I can't believe that I could have been so blind, so shallow. I begin to get lost in my thoughts, wanting my mind to be still and quiet like it was only a few minutes ago. I just want everything to be back to the way it was, to have my parents here with me even if it's just my dad yelling at me to put something down in his lab. I hate Bucky for being the one that killed them, that caused the crash that took their lives. I hate Hydra for the amount of shit that they put me and my family through. I hate myself for never being there enough for Jet, for never noticing the cuts and scars that covered her skin. But then again it's not my fault that she hid it from me. But I should have been there for her so she never even had to think of that as an option.

        I think back to when Jet was just a little girl, running around on her tiny legs and bumping into things. She had always been clumsy, never the most graceful person. But when she danced, oh when she danced. She suddenly became the most graceful and beautiful person that I have ever known. She did things I never even knew was possible, conveyed emotions that many people try to hide, brought out the bad side of things but made it so beautiful. Told a story through her body, created a work of art with nothing more than her arms and legs. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I take it out and unlock it. My phone seems to be freaking out, notifications blowing it up and phone calls blocking the system. "What the hell..." I ask. I answer a call from Coulson.

        "What is going on and why is everyone freaking out?!" I ask him, not wanting to leave my parents.

        "We have a serious situation you need your ass down here now!! Suit up and get ready to go!" he says. I can barely pick his voice apart from the shouts and sirens in the background of the call.

        "WHAT IS GOING ON?!" I yell.

        "An Avenger has fallen!!" he yells back.

        "Who?!"

        "Steve."