THE FALL OF THE DESTOYER
Their victory against the Kri army came with many casualties. Coulson should have shown up with the reinforcements hours ago, the few hundred S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that where in the battle field didn’t even stand a chance against the large numbers of the enemy. And there she was. The great Destroyer. Fallen to her knees in the hard ground. Wounded Kri soldiers surrounding her for miles. Her, in the center of distraction. She felt it was fitting.
There was a piercing pain in her left side and her right hand didn’t do a good job at covering the bleeding in her stomach. A Kri sword still stuck to her body, she was afraid that it was the only thing keeping her alive at the moment, a sly movement and the bleeding could get worse. She just had to wait for the team that’s all, the team and Jemma. The extraordinary Jemma. If anyone could save her, it would be her. She has already saved her so many times. She can hear the team’s jet landing in the distance. Maybe her prays had been answered. Maybe she will make it out of this after all. Make it out just so she could go risk her life in another battle. In which ever battle the agency asks her to throw her life into. She owed her life to them of cource. She shouldn’t think like that.
A flash of red catches her eye. Soft hands touch her hair trying to get the brunette strands away from the wound in her forehead.
Her voice came out low and raspy. "That’s not the wound you should be worried about." she wanted to say but she opted to keep her limited energy for some more needed words. A thank you or even an I missed you.
Where the words that finally came out of her mouth. The hope on her voice was evident even in her state.
“Of course I did love. I am so so sorry I didn’t manage to be here sooner.”
Sweet poor Jemma, with so much need to protect the ones she loved. With the hunting guilt of Fitz’s end following where ever she when’d. How ironic it was. The fastest woman in the multi universe and still somehow always too late to save the ones she loved the most.
“Do you think you can get up honey?”
Said the scientist with softness in her voice. It was there usual conversation after something like this. An injure in battle. Jemma could come, help her up, take her to the jet to get patched up and then continue on with their life. Mission after mission.
She had not yet realized that this was not just a flesh wound. Not something so easily repaired. Or maybe she did know. Maybe she just did not want their last moments together to be filled with tears and worry. Maybe it was easier to pretend that everything would be okay. Just like all the other times.
The fallen girl nods negatively. The pain to unbearable now to even voice her state. She just looked up at the other girl, hoping that her eyes could translate all that she felt. The pain. The worry. The love. Blood pulling from her left brow was closing up the vision in her eye but still she though that the girl in front of her was as beautiful as ever. Her head was pounding. Maybe it wasn’t the blood that was limiting her vision after all. She looked down. The soil around her stained with dark blood. A blue sword was protruding from her stomach. Jemma’s hands softly pressed to her cheeks.
“It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry, I will help you up.”
Oh Jemma, I don’t think you can help this time, thought the Destroyer but still she smiled for the beautiful woman in front of her.
“Thank you Jemma”
She whispered softly with the little power she still had, before finally losing the battle with the sweet darkness that was after her and closing her eyes. The agonizing scream of the woman she loved fading into the back of her mind.