Echoes

Scarlett sat, eyes closed, forehead against the steering wheel in front of the loft by the beach. The door to the car hung open and she could hear the car beeping annoyingly to warn her that the keys were still in the ignition. Each warm breeze from the ocean sent a chill through her like it were the tundra. She couldn't quite remember the ride home from Tony's Malibu Mansion but she knew it had been a struggle. What was she going to say to Natasha when she finally met up with her?

Scarlett didn't regret what she'd done the night before. MedCo and the assholes they worked with got what they deserved.

Gingerly touching her side, she checked to make sure she wasn't bleeding and was relieved to find nothing on her hands even through her soiled shirt. As she leaned back in her seat, a wave of nausea flooded through her, rising into the back of her throat. Her skin was cold and clammy, uncomfortable to say the least. Taking slow deep breaths, Scarlett grit her teeth, turned off the engine, and got out of the car.

All she had to do was get changed and then head to S.H.I.E.L.D. There had to be some peppermints or ginger in her loft somewhere. She used to keep them in every room after her treatments with Dr. Ganter but admittedly she'd let her health slip in the weeks past. It had felt nice to be normal with someone, even if it was just an act. Turned out the only person she'd been fooling had been herself.

Now she was paying the price.

It took a frustrating amount of time for her to unlock the door to her loft. She dropped the damn keys three times and then getting them in the lock was a far more tedious task than it should have been. Inside, she tossed the keys onto the couch and shed her jacket onto the floor. Standing in the middle of her living room she took in the sight of the loft. She hadn't been there much, it was still unfamiliar.

Just a little longer and then she could rest. With a determined deep breath she started forward, but then stopped as her foot dragged beneath her. Had it been caught on something? Nothing, she looked down and saw just her foot. Starting again, she had to grab onto barstool next to the counter to steady herself. But it slipped on the tile floor and Scarlett with it.

She tried to grab on the counter, but her fingers slipped and thwacked hard against the stone and she and the three nearby barstools all clattered onto the floor. Her feet felt numb and dull. Trying to push herself back up, Scarlett found her breath short in her lungs. It was tight, hard to breathe, like her throat was closing. What the hell was happening to her? Every time she inhaled it was like she couldn't exhale anymore, her breath caught in her throat. Each desperate attempt made her dizzy and she clawed at the floor, trying to regain herself.

Coughing, she felt the pain rack through her chest, desperate to try to breathe. She couldn't and every time she coughed her side racked with pain, throbbed, spreading into her chest and stomach. Each cough blinded her. She couldn't see and soon she was simply collapsing onto her stomach on the cold tile. Ears ringing she stared through the mess of hair that fell in her face and the world spun. The cold felt good against her head even as the edges of her vision dimmed. Her stomach was on fire and vaguely she thought she should get her phone and call Natasha.

Reaching for her pocket, she instead touched the spot on her side where she'd been wounded. Her phone was in the jacket she'd discarded but as she pulled her hand away she saw her fingertips red with blood. As her vision faded, she saw the pool of red on white tile, growing steadily. She thought of crawling toward her jacket, but even as the thought crossed her mind, she succumbed to the darkness in her vision.

Then there was nothing.

No pain, no dreams, nothing.

Maybe it was finally over and she could rest. Nothing was ever that easy.

Hour later there was finally something again. A sound. Was it her heart beat? Her eyes wouldn't cooperate, lids heavy and body feeling weighted and held down. Still, she could hear. There were no voices, but she could hear footsteps nearby. Where from, she had no idea. Usually her senses were honed but everything felt muddled. Sounds came from too close and too far and she shifted. Whatever was beneath her was soft, but still oddly uncomfortable.

What had happened?

Scarlett didn't know. Part of her didn't care. Even the thought of moving was exhausting. For a brief few seconds she drifted off again but something nagged the back of her mind. She had to get up.

Finally she managed to open her eyes and she swore she could feel the bags under them. At once she closed them again when her head pounded in response. The sickly taste of metal hung in her mouth and throat and when she swallowed it only became worse. Saliva was caught in her throat and suddenly she was struggling to breathe. Coughing and choking, Scarlett was able to clear the obstruction in her throat but her heart was pounding so hard she swore she could hear it in her ears.

It was louder than she thought it should be.

The more she listened the less it sounded normal. That was because it wasn't her heart she was hearing. Scarlett's eyes snapped open at last and while her vision was blurry she found the source of the noise.

It was a heart monitor.

She was in a hospital.

Wheezing, she leaned up to take in her surroundings but even as she did she could feel the world spinning all around her. Coughing, she grabbed for what she could feel tugging on her hair. There was an oxygen tube wrapped around her and tucked in her nose to help her breathe. She wouldn't need it, she hoped.

Why was she here? Who had brought her to a hospital? Had she been in an accident? The details were fuzzy, nothing made sense. Irrational fears bit at her heels and though her hands were shaking and oddly numb, she still pulled free of the monitors on her chest. She grabbed at the IV in her arm and while it hurt, she grit her teeth and pulled it free of her flesh anyway.

The room was dim, she couldn't judge her location.

A terrifying thought struck Scarlett just then as she forced herself to remain sitting upright on the hospital bed.

Nothing about this felt good or normal.

Maybe the people in this hospital had done something to her. There was a chance it wasn't even a hospital at all but something far more sinister. It wouldn't be the first time she'd woken up in a horrid place under vile circumstances due to people with bad intent. There were voices on the other side of the door, voices she couldn't recognize. They swum all around her and Scarlett could barely focus on them to decipher even their gender. On the metal tray next to her bed there were various amenities, but no sharp medical tools that she could use in self defense.

She had to get out of there somehow.

It didn't matter who had actually brought her there or what had happened to her, the panic inside Scarlett was so fierce that she had given in to primal instincts. Digging in the drawer there with numbed, pained fingers, Scarlett found several packages of useless medical supplies. Cursing, she dug more frantically in the drawer below and was relieved to find scalpels. Removing one from the sterile plastic, Scarlett steadied it in her shaking hand.

Closing her eyes she tried to picture her last moments before she had blacked out but it was all a blur. She saw desert if she focused enough.

"Why…" Her throat tasted terrible again and she coughed, covering her mouth to stifle the sound. Those voices were talking again and growing louder. She had to get out of bed, she had to get near the door and regain the upper hand. God, she could really break out of here in this condition? Her stomach was sending terrible shocks of pain all through her entire body every time she shifted.

She had no choice.

Scarlett was tough, she could do this! There was no chance to hesitate, no way. She got out of bed and her feet nearly gave out under her, completely numb at first and then filled with pain that she swore radiated from her side. Every part of her was weak and her fingers trembled and went numb, but she leaned against the hospital bed and didn't fall. As the heart monitor alerted from the lack of signal, Scarlett shoved at the machine and searched for the buttons she knew would silence it.

The tiny words on the buttons blinked in and out of focus in front of her. Sweat dripped down her cheeks, and being unable to read the words made her nauseous. Scarlett closed her eyes and tried to recall a similar machine and pressed buttons she guessed would silence the noise. She must have gotten lucky because the sound stopped. Behind her eyes burned as she opened them again and her entire body felt suddenly cold.

She had to get out of there and get to help. Crouching carefully, Scarlett made her way to the door and leaned against the wall next to it, listening to the voices on the other side. There were people talking, three Scarlett thought but no voices she recognized. They sounded like they kept getting further away, but Scarlett was sure it was a trick of her own hearing. Without the oxygen tube she was finding it very difficult to breathe.

What had they done to her? The terrible, violent thought wouldn't leave her alone.

Her head and heart pulsed with danger. Crouching she held the side of her head, trying to silence the anxious trembling that had completely overcome her. She had to get it together, she had to get out of there, get fresh air, gather her wits about her and orient herself if she could.

This wasn't like her.

Her vision was blurring and lungs ached, praying for more oxygen but she ignored them, she had to. These problems could be solved later.

Later couldn't come soon enough.

Her side stung again and just as she felt her thoughts clear enough to recall the damage that had been done, the door swung open.

"Where…" A familiar voice began but Scarlett jumped to her feet and held the scalpel at arm's length, aiming straight for the woman's neck.

"Ah!" Jemma dropped the clipboard in her hand and leapt backwards in surprise, panic swept across her face.

"Move!" Scarlett's voice was scratchy, her throat raw from coughing. Jemma was trembling from head to toe in a panic, there were voices behind her. "Now!"

"Scarlett, please…" Her voice was shaking and her face had gone completely pale.

"Simmons, what is it? What's going on?" Leo Fitz called from behind her.

"I-I… Scarlett, it's all right…" Jemma tried to speak soothingly, confused, but the panic in her eyes didn't ease Scarlett in the least.

"I said back off!" Scarlett hissed, taking a step toward her, her feet dragging on the floor. Her body was shaking and she couldn't feel her fingers and toes, but she kept her grip as tight as she could on the scalpel. Jemma backed up as she was asked, moving into a dark room behind her. One quick glance around the room made Scarlett dizzy and she stumbled and nearly fell.

There were computers and charts, medical supplies. It looked like they were testing something.

Testing her?

The panic made her jump to conclusions immediately, there was no other explanations for how she was feeling. Her stomach lurched and she nearly tumbled to the floor. Jemma rushed toward her to try and catch her but Scarlett regained herself and held the scalpel at the ready, hunched and holding her stomach with the other arm.

"No!" She hissed and Jemma stumbled into Leo who seemed unsure of what to do. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"Scarlett, nothing, please… please calm down!" Jemma's eyes were brimming with tears and she turned her gaze to Leo.

"We have to sedate her…" He whispered.

"If you touch me you'll regret it." Scarlett growled and Leo took a step back.

"We're… we didn't do anything to you, I swear Scarlett. You have to calm down!"

"And you need to back up."

"Go get Natasha." Jemma whispered.

"I'm not leaving you with her." Leo immediately objected.

"I'm fine, go!" Reluctantly, Leo did as he was told, backing out of the room. "Scarlett, you're bleeding… please… you have to trust me."

"What did you do to me?" She whispered again and with a quick glance she saw blood dripping on the floor beneath her. The pain in her side was excruciating.

"N-nothing! Nothing I swear…" Jemma was trembling, but no longer in fear of Scarlett. The woman was growing weaker in front of her. "We're trying to help you, I swear! I swear… you keep bleeding and… and nothing I do is helping! Nothing!"

"What are you talking about?" Scarlett hissed. The door swung open again and Natasha rushed in with Leo just behind her. Turning toward Natasha, Scarlett kept the scalpel held weakly but she was fading.

"Scarlett, you've got to get back into bed." Natasha started closer than Scarlett was comfortable with.

"I want to know what's happening to me." Scarlett retorted, turning her attention away from Jemma.

"Your body is rejecting my treatment, nothing I do is helping you! Please, you have to believe me." Jemma pled and Natasha held her hand up to silence her.

"You're sick, if you just calm down I'll explain."

Scarlett loosened her grip on the scalpel. The sight of her friend lessened the panic, but the loss of blood was alarming. She dropped the scalpel and held her side instead.

"Okay." Scarlett spoke, but her lips were tingling with numbness. Turning, she started slowly back into the room, but her feet were still dragging beneath her. Coughing, she leaned against the door frame and as she took a step forward she couldn't hold up her weight anymore.

Desperately she grabbed for something to hold her up and an entire tray of medical supplies scattered across the floor. Natasha rushed to her side and made an attempt to catch her to keep her from slamming against the hard floor. Scarlett cringed as Natasha grabbed her around the waist but there was no way the shorter woman was holding her up for long.

Natasha slid to the ground, but kept Scarlett from slamming to the floor. Scarlett couldn't breathe, gripping her chest she coughed and gagged and tried desperately to get back to her feet. Sweat dripped down her forehead, over her cheeks and neck, her curly hair sticking to her skin. Natasha grabbed her arm and pinned her in place, to keep her from trying to move.

Her lips were moving but Scarlett couldn't hear anything but a high pitched sound of alarm in her head. Natasha was yelling now, looking panicked and Scarlett felt her lungs ache, begging for air. Jemma, pale, appeared in view and held a clear mask over her face.

Oxygen flooded her lungs, her breathing still labored in spite of the aid but the screaming in Scarlett's head finally began to subside. Each move sent pain through her stomach and back. She tried to readjust but each time she moved, Natasha pinned her in place.

"Stop."

"You stop." Natasha whispered and adjust Scarlett so she was resting with her head in her lap, pushing her sweaty hair away from her face. Reaching to touch her side, Scarlett felt the blood, she could feel as it dripped beneath her. "You have to let us help you."

"What did you do to me?" Scarlett looked up at her friend and Natasha shook her head in a negative response. "You didn't."

"We didn't."

"I can't…" Scarlett tightened her grip on her side, but her fingers wouldn't make the fist she wanted to make.

"Please, let me…" Jemma crouched carefully nearby and Scarlett didn't move or respond. Natasha nodded to let Jemma know it was okay. She pulled up Scarlett's hospital gown and began to address the bleeding on her side. Scarlett cringed and felt the pain nearly blind her. She could taste bile in her throat, and she gagged and choked. It was only then that she realized she was yelling in pain. Natasha pulled the oxygen away from her face and let Scarlett cough, stroking her hair all the while to help her. "Natasha, I don't know how to stop it…"

"Well figure it out." Natasha snapped. Scarlett grabbed at Natasha's wrist, the dark, sickly color of her blood on the woman's pale flesh sent a sudden jolt of clarity through her.

Panic still hung in her chest, she needed to breathe. Natasha guided the oxygen back over Scarlett's nose and mouth to help her get what she needed.

"I can't…" Scarlett wasn't sure how to say what she was feeling. The panic was gripping her too tightly.

"I need you to breathe." Natasha whispered soothingly, though even her voice seemed to be shaking, oddly maternal in a way Scarlett hadn't been aware Natasha was capable of. Scarlett nodded and closed her eyes, trying very hard to focus on calming the way that Natasha wanted her to. It wasn't that simple. Her thoughts kept drifting to hospitals past, waking up in danger, the desperate, animalistic need to get to safety still primal in her thoughts. Natasha grabbed her hand as she gripped desperately at the tile floor and held it close to her chest, placing it over her heart. "Just breathe with me."

"Tasha…" Scarlett whispered, though her voice sounded broken and haggard. Natasha squeezed her hand and this time she didn't close her eyes and instead stared up at the hand Natasha held. Her chest was rising and falling, but her heart was beating far faster than she would let on. Natasha was scared.

Natasha was actually scared.

Scarlett grit her teeth and focused on breathing, but even at her best, there was only so much she could do. Every so often her vision darkened, threatening unconsciousness, but she fought it as hard as she could. Her hand slipped from Natasha's and was gingerly placed against her side again.

"Shh…" Scarlett hadn't realized it, but Natasha had begun to whisper to her in Russian, whether it was a lullaby or just soothing words Scarlett couldn't make it out. She could barely think in English nonetheless other languages right now. The lullaby, the soothing words, they did nothing for the tense atmosphere.

"What's happening to me?" Scarlett finally managed, her voice sounding less broken, more like herself. Natasha stopped humming and her attention returned to Scarlett. Her eyes looked distant, dark, sad.

"You were injured." The woman spoke quietly, for the first time since they knew each other, Scarlett caught a hint of an accent there in her voice. "You shouldn't have left without seeing a doctor. It was foolish."

"Didn't know." Scarlett nodded carefully and Natasha tried to keep her from moving again. There was little to no fight left within Scarlett, she couldn't object. Everything hurt, the pain was so intense she was beginning to numb.

"You didn't know?"

"Had to save you." Scarlett smiled weakly and Natasha looked none too pleased by that response. "Didn't realize I was bleeding until Tony saw it."

"Stark?"

"Yeah." Scarlett exhaled and inhaled deeply. She could hear her breathing in her ears, crinkling, popping. "Must have been the adrenaline, Tasha."

"Do you know how it happened?" Natasha looked to Jemma knowingly as the woman continued at her side, trying to stop the bleeding.

"We have to get her back on an IV. She's going to bleed out." Jemma's voice was filled with sorrow and panic.

"Nasty knife." Scarlett closed her eyes, trying to remember what the piece of the knife had looked like that Tony had removed. "Must have been old and rusted, part of it broke. Had to pull it out."

Both women looked to Jemma who gasped in a sudden realization.

"I know how to help her." She nodded.

"Go." Natasha waved to her and looked back to Scarlett in her lap.

"Shouldn't have left." Scarlett nodded and Natasha nodded to agree. "How much trouble?"

"None." Natasha assured her. "No backlash. You're okay. Sorta glad you did it."

"Thought they might have killed you." Scarlett felt her stomach churn. The more she laid there, the sicker she felt. Please, if there was any sort of mercy in the world, don't make her throw up, not now. She was in enough pain, she didn't know if she could stay conscious with her muscles contracting enough to vomit. "Or worse."

"Worse?"

"Did this." Scarlett gestured lightly to herself and Natasha turned her gaze away for a long moment. Closing her eyes, Scarlett focused on the nausea in the back of her throat though she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold on. Natasha wouldn't let her go, her grip had tightened in her hair and her breathing was calculated. Scarlett could feel it in the way she breathed.

Natasha was coaching herself to stay calm.

Scarlett carefully placed her hand on the tile and Natasha objected but Scarlett managed to shove her off. Desperately she grabbed for something she could use as a bucket but there was nothing close. Sensing what she needed, Natasha leaned all the way back, grabbed a small plastic container, dumped the contents on the floor and brought it back.

The nausea was too intense, so intense she couldn't hold it back anymore. Natasha held Scarlett's hair back as she retched into the bucket. Scarlett kept her eyes closed, she didn’t want to see what was coming out of her when she was feeling this incredibly awful. For once, her curiosity didn't get the better of her. It was a wonder Scarlett didn't pass out as the wound at her side pulled when she threw up.

After all was said and done, Scarlett allowed Natasha to guide her back into her lap.

"You're bleeding again." Natasha whispered carefully, reaching to touch the wound to try and at least slow it. "Simmons needs to get back…" She drifted off when Scarlett grabbed her wrist and pulled it away from her side.

"What's happening to me? It wasn't that bad." Scarlett barely felt like herself at all. None of it felt real. It felt like a terrible nightmare, a nightmare where time was slow and the pain was so ungodly real it was indescribable.

Natasha's eyes were sad again and this time she made no attempts to hide her sorrow.

"Tasha."

"You're dying." Natasha whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her words. Scarlett felt a chill wash through her, a cold wave of realization. She let go of Natasha's wrist and placed her hand on the floor.

This couldn't be it.

There had to be more time.

Scarlett wasn't ready to die. She'd pushed so many things off, so many things that seemed so important now. Natasha had no soothing, comforting words, nothing at all to say. She wouldn't even look at Scarlett anymore. Instead she'd turned herself off emotionally and covered the wound again, trying to slow the bleeding. She was back to the stone faced woman Scarlett had known was feeling a river of emotions.

Scarlett had failed.

This was it. This was the end.

There was no point in fighting anymore. This was where fighting had gotten her. Scarlett closed her eyes and prayed for the first time in her life that unconsciousness would take her so she could stop thinking.

If everything could stop she would at least be in peace.