Shortly after the conclusion of the strategy meeting, Valerie texted Anna asking her to come to the Avengers compound for "emotional support," and to bring Harry and Sadie, the latter of which had flown in from LA earlier that morning. Eventually, the three arrived, and soon after, they were escorted by Peter into the living room where Valerie and Bianca were snuggling on the couch.

As soon as they walked into the room, Bianca jumped to her feet. Anna halted in her tracks, Harry and Sadie following her lead. For a good three or four minutes, Bianca's friends simply stared at her and Bianca stared back, both parties teary-eyed. No one spoke until Anna broke the silence by loudly declaring, "I'm going to kill you!"

Bianca was unfazed. "Would you mind hugging me first before you kill me? Because I could really use a world-famous Anna Starling hug right now."

Anna didn't hesitate. She surged forward and threw her arms around Bianca. Harry and Sadie were quick to follow. The three squeezed the supposedly-dead girl so tight she started to suffocate, but she didn't mind. It'd been less than 12 hours since Bianca had been declared dead and she'd already missed the company of her friends. It was one thing to be alone when she knew she could reach out to them whenever she needed them. It was an entirely other thing to be alone with no access to them. 

Her friends had always been the best of her; without them, she would still be the girl singing songs at her favorite cafe to a tiny little audience.

Once the hugging and crying were over, Bianca and Valerie filled the newcomers in on the situation.

"So you have to pretend to be dead and we have to pretend to mourn you," Sadie summarized. She and Anna had claimed the seats on either side of Bianca on the couch. Harry had taken up residence in an armchair. By this point in the conversation, Valerie had had to leave to answer some phone calls and Natasha had slunk in to top up her coffee.

"Yeah, pretty much," Bianca laughed awkwardly.

Sadie took that in, nodding to herself. "Well, it's a good thing you're friends with such brilliant actors."

"Why do you think I picked you guys as friends?" Bianca joked.

Harry grinned. "Aw, she's so cute. She thinks she had a choice in becoming friends with us." Anna, who was braiding Bianca's hair, snorted. Natasha took a loud sip of her coffee, garnering the attention of the four young adults.

"Sorry." She smiled apologetically. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"Thank you," Harry said earnestly. "For saving us at the party, but more importantly, for saving Bianca." He reached over and rustled the singer's hair affectionately. She swatted his hand away and shot him a dirty look.

Natasha shook her head, her smile less apologetic and more mischievous. "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not the one who saved Bianca."

"Then who did?" Anna asked. She and Sadie entirely missed the rosy blush darkening Bianca's cheeks, but Harry didn't. He locked eyes with her and raised his eyebrows, silently questioning if her blush meant what he thought it meant. Bianca just narrowed her eyes at him. He knew what that look meant: "Say anything and I'll make you wish you were never born."

"Who did what?" Tony questioned, strolling into the lounge with Peter close behind. Bianca's cheeks grew even warmer. She ducked her head, suddenly finding great interest in the loose thread on her sweater sleeve.

Natasha took a sip of her coffee, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, then answered, "The kids want to know who saved Bianca."

Tony's expression changed to match the Black Widow's. "Oh? Do they now?" Peter looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Why does it feel like everyone is in on a joke we've never heard?" Anna remarked with a scowl.

"Relax," Harry urged. "They're the Avengers. Of course they know things we don't."

Bianca mouthed a quick 'thank you' to Harry, then rushed to change the subject. "So, uh, has any progress been made on the 'Why does HYDRA want Bianca dead?' front?"

"It's been less than two hours," Tony reminded her.

Sadie narrowed her eyes. "Is that a no?"

They heard the front door swing open. Seconds later, Daisy Johnson came running in. She was wearing her gauntlets under casual clothes and she looked like she hadn't slept in a couple of days. She sighed in relief at the sight of Bianca alive and well.

"Daisy!" Bianca exclaimed, rushing to greet the hero known as Quake with a warm hug.

Daisy wasted no time in wrapping her arms around Bianca. She pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm so glad you're not dead."

"Yet another thing we have in common," Bianca quipped. Peter watched them, feeling a pang in his chest. He wished he could hold Bianca in his arms like that and tell her everything was going to be okay, but he highly doubted she would be comfortable with that. Then he remembered the look on her face when she saw him leaving last night and the way her voice trembled when she said she wanted to sing him a song. He wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her. 

No, no, it wasn't possible. She was Bianca fucking Sinclair. She could have anyone she wanted. Why would she want him? What was so special about him? Nothing. For him and Bianca to get back together, he'd have to be the luckiest man alive, and well...Peter had always had shit luck.

"I need to talk to you," Daisy said, making eye contact with Tony over Bianca's head.

"Anything for you, Daisy," Tony replied. Daisy finally let go of Bianca and, after promising her she'd be back soon, took off towards the conference room at top speed. Natasha and Tony exchanged looks before trailing after her. Peter wasn't sure if he was supposed to go too, so he just stood there awkwardly until Tony looked back at him and asked, "Aren't you coming?"

"Right, yeah," Peter mumbled, rushing to catch up. Unbeknownst to him, Bianca watched him go, wishing that, for once, he would stay.

*

In a tiny apartment in Phoenix, Arizona, a man paced back and forth.

This was all his fault. He'd fucked up (again) and now she was dead. They'd killed her to punish him. He just about jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at his door. Hands shaking, he grabbed his gun off the kitchen counter and opened the door just enough to see a pretty blonde woman standing in the hallway.

"Leo Suarez?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. He looked her over. She was dressed like a businesswoman in black slacks and a blue button-down under a black blazer. He could just make out the bulge of a firearm holstered at her hip. She had a familiar face, but he couldn't place it.

He cleared his throat roughly. "Who's asking?"

"Agent Sharon Carter with the CIA," she answered. She held up a badge as proof of her identity. It looked pretty real, but Leo knew what these people were capable of. This woman might've been an agent, sure, but not with the CIA. No, this woman was here to kill him.

"With all due respect, ma'am, fuck off," he said before attempting to shut the door. She stuck her foot in the doorway and grabbed the chain of his lock.

"I'm here about your daughter," she told him. "Bianca Sinclair? I'm sure you've heard the news."

He narrowed his eyes, clicking off the safety on his gun. "Yeah, I've heard the news. I know exactly what you motherfuckers did to my daughter, and I'll be damned if I let you do the same to me." Through the narrow gap in the door, he aimed his handgun at her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide. She raised her hands in surrender. "Mr. Suarez, I swear to you, I'm not HYDRA. I'm with the CIA and on occasion, I consult with the Avengers. My great-aunt was Peggy Carter, you might've heard of her?"

So that's where he knew her from. He remembered now seeing her face in the footage of the Avengers' fight at the airport all those years ago. She'd been on Captain America's team. He relaxed ever so slightly and lowered his gun. If Captain America trusted her, he figured he should too.

"Why are you here?" he questioned, trying to sound intimidating.

She sighed. "I told you, I'm here about Bianca. We were hoping you might have some information as to why she was targeted and judging by the sweat dripping down your face and you answering the door with a gun in your hand, you do."

He looked down guiltily. Then he undid the latch and let her in. 

*

sorry if this sucks