Ion Heart

Chapter 14: Mistakes

I wince in pain as I sit up on Sam's couch. The last three days have taken a tole on my body. My wrist hangs in a sling, waiting to reset and for the bullet hole to heal, but the scar on my face has faded away to become another distant memory. 

Sam brings in a plate of blueberry pancakes. 'I made breakfast.'

'Thank you.' I reply, eagerly taking the stack. I haven't eaten in ages. 'I'm guessing by your smile everything went according to plan?' I ask between mouthfuls. 

'Yes. SHIELD is no more.'

'And Steve?'

'Still in the hospital. I was going to visit him this afternoon, you're welcome to come.'

'Well, I only have a few days until dad picks me up, marches me back to New York and grounds me to my room for the rest of my life so I think I will.' I force out a laugh. 

'Then you'll probably need these.' Sam grins, handing me my sunglasses and leather jacket. 

Oh how I have missed these! I think, sliding the dark glasses onto my face.

Steve lays unconscious on the hospital bed. I pull up a chair and Sam plugs in his iPhone so Steve can listen to music whilst he sleeps. For a while all we do is sit in silence. There's nothing to say. I actually enjoy the quiet. I'm not being shot at, I'm not being blown up, I'm not being chased down the highway by a maniac and my dad's not screaming at me until the veins pop out of his skull.

When I woke up, I was in Sam's house. A doctor had patched me up and instructed me to rest. All I knew was Pierce was dead and Steve was in the hospital. Nat called Dad who is now on his way. He'll pick me up soon but at the moment he's striking a deal that will hopefully keep me hidden for a while longer. I am a bit disappointed, I was ready for the world to know me. I guess I will still be a shadow to his flame for a while longer. 

I exhale loudly. Hospitals are weird. I'd never been in a hospital until Fury 'died'. It's best if I avoid them. They'll ask for a name and next of kin and now the issue is if I come in and magically heal in an hour, it would be suspicious. Looking at me now, you would never have guessed I was punched by metal, shot and nearly drowned. How on earth will I explain this to dad? Maybe I should plan my funeral now. 

The blinds are down but through the cracks, I can see another body being pushed into the elevator, ready to go up or down. I stare at my hands, stained with invisible blood. Hands that have killed. I remember killing the chitauri, but that felt different. The idea never haunted me. Nor did the extremis people. I don't know why the Hydra agents have made me think. I can see that dead man's face in the back of my mind. Listening to his menacing laugh. Smelling the burning flesh. His body hanging limply on the stairs. I squeeze my eyes shut, as if that can get rid of the image in my mind, and I weigh up the options in my head: 

- I have killed; I have saved more.  

- The weight of death holds heavy on my shoulders; the weight of the living lifts me up. 

- My sparks may be deadly; my intentions are not.

- With victory comes sacrifice, it always does. Some of us have to live with that sacrifice, and make the decisions that need to be made. 

And just like that, I can push away those creeping thoughts to consume me another day. It's another game I'll have to play, going around in circles reminding myself  of the good things I have done.  

It's how I move on, I have to. 

Next to me I can sense Steve stirring. 

'On your left.' He smirks. Sam's lips twitch into a smile and mine do too. He's awake. He's ok.