"Kill him!"

A little boy was sitting on a metal chair in front of me - innocent. A spongebobsquarepants hat was placed onto his blonde curls and the same bright yellow character on his shorts and shirt. His parents had been killed in the bombing in Vienna at the UN conference for the accords. They had been S.H.I.E.L.D agents. My enemies.

The boy - he was a warning to the rest of them, those who were to keep  coming for us. A warning that HYDRA would prevail - chop off two heads and two more will take their place.

"Kill him!" Sounded through the room again, the speaker vibrating in the wall.

I shook my head, hair falling into my eyes as I stared at the boy. My mask concealed most of my face, apart from my eyes. The glass across the room reflected them - a dead green which quickly looked away from my reflection back to the child.

The boy looked at me, his big brown eyes wide - pleading. "Friend?" He asked. He couldn't have been older than four. The spongebobsquarepants hat had now fallen down his head, hanging over his eyes, threatening to fall off.

"No," I muttered, my hand reaching for my gun. "I'm your foe."

I had no control over what I was doing, my conscience having long gone. I had to kill him. I had to follow to my orders. The boy had to die.

The little boy scrambled against his cuffs. "Friend," he whimpered, small waterfalls beginning on his cheeks. His bottom lip wobbled and his brown eyes stared into mine, questioning. Why?

"Foe." I loaded the gun, pointing it at him.

The boy began to scream. I couldn't stand it, the high pitched, innocent noise. Something deep inside of me rattled, told me what I was doing was wrong. It made me flinch for a second before I held the gun tighter. I didn't care he was innocent I had to follow orders.

A red circle appeared in between the boy's eyes. The spongebobsquarepants hat fell to the floor in front of my feet. His body had become limp. I'd shot him. The innocent scream still echoed in my ears...

I sat bolt up right. Sweat made my pyjamas cling to my body. I pulled at my shirt, trying to make the tight sensation in my chest fade away. The boy's scream still echoed in my ears. "Just a dream..." I muttered, heaving myself out of bed. At least I didn't scream this time.

Matthew Christopher Thompson. That was the boy's name. I remembered all of their names. How could I forget them? He had been four, not the youngest of my kills.  I gripped the bedside table, resisting the urge to punch the wall. Monster. The word circled around in my head - a deafening chorus. A hot tear fell down my cheek, hitting the wood below. I could remember everything - it had come back in dreams, nightmares - piece by piece my memory had come back to create a horrific masterpiece.

I wiped the tear trail from my cheek, heading the bathroom. I paused. Laughter sounded from the direction of the living room. Oh dear, today was... I gulped down bile as I made my way to the bathroom. My watch glared up at me from my wrist, it was already eleven; I'd over slept quite dramatically.

My little escapade last night had ended with an ambulance and me running through the streets of Manhattan hopelessly lost until I found the tower and returned. Hopefully Friday hadn't noticed my disappearance. Or the news hadn't captured my face. Then again they wouldn't know it was me anyway as they'd expect me to be on crutches. Another lie amongst many. I tried to shrug off the feeling of guilt, grabbing some clothes...

Minutes later I was dressed and ready. Not that I was leaving my room today. I picked up my crutches, heading for the mirror.

"Gonna quit hiding and join us in the living room?"

I kept walking to the mirror, setting my crutches down and ignoring the voice.

"Open up, doll."

I ignored him again.

"Play the hard way then," sounded outside my door followed by a thud. "I'm breaking the door down, doll."

"For god's sake just come in," I mumbled, tying my hair up and putting my crutches near me.

"Hey, doll." God dammit with the nickname.

"Hey, Barbie." I tried to say whilst the hairbrush was still in my mouth.

"You know there's brunch in the living room, you don't have to eat that." I felt him take the hairbrush out of my mouth and holding it.

"Thanks," I muttered, twisting the final part of my hair band. I took the hairbrush from him and dumped it on the side.

"She's here," Bucky said, crossing his arms, watching me. "Fury hasn't told her yet, that you're here... She knows you're alive though."

I looked at Bucky with pleading eyes. "Any chance of escaping?"

"I'm actually here to make sure you get there, direct orders from Fury." Bucky smirked at me, flexing his bionic arm.

"You and your stupid crooked grin." I turned away from him collapsing onto my bed. "Well have fun with that, I'm not coming out of this room," I mumbled into the duvet.

I heard a laugh before something heavy landed on top of me, someone landed on top of me. "Bundle!"

I buried my face in the covers. "James Buchanan Barnes, get off of me."

The weight disappeared. Hands circled my waist. I was being lifted.

"Let go," I yelped, clawing at his arms. It looked like some bizarre reenactment of The Lion King, I half expected the circle of life to start playing.

"Ow," Bucky growled, glaring up at me. "And no, I won't let go."

"Why?" I stopped clawing, hanging there.

"Manners."

"Please put me down, Barnes," I asked politely.

He lowered me down so my feet touched the floor. "Of course, but my name is Bucky, doll."

"Okay," I sighed, slipping on my crutches. "Let's do this. I have one escape route."

"You're not going to war," Bucky laughed, holding the door open for me.

"Might be," I argued back, swinging into the corridor.

"I'm on your side." Bucky gripped my shoulder.

"Thanks," I stopped.

"Only because I don't want you as an enemy." Bucky smirked at me, cockily walking past me.

"Asshole," I muttered.

He moved out of the way to go and sit down.

There she was in her chair, hair plaited on her right shoulder. A blue blouse on her petit frame and a smart grey skirt. My big sister. She was happily talking to Bruce. "And the super soldier serum lasts in female blood and not male, that's how I found out about it. It's more powerful in the female bloodstream."

"Incredible," Bruce scribbled down some more notes.

I ignored them, choosing to get a drink instead, my crutches making a soft tapping sound on the floor.

"Zoe? Oh my god, Zoe - you're alive." Becky seemed to choke on her own words, they were full of shock, relief, happiness, anger.

The room fell silent.

I poured the juice into my glass, turning around with it in my hand. "Yes?"

"I thought you were..." Becky's grey eyes filled with tears. "They told me you were missing in action, I didn't think you were ever coming back... Fury told me you were alive." Becky shook her head. "How can this be real?"

"I'm real, this is all real - we're not in the matrix." I pinched my arm.

Becky's eyes fell to my legs, widening. "Why do you have crutches?" Of course, she hadn't seen me since enrolment.

"For fashion, I like the edge they give me." I rolled my eyes, draining the remnants of the glass and placing it a little too heavily on the side.

"I didn't mean for it to come true I was just angry." Becky was rolling towards me.

"I don't blame you." I shrugged, swinging past her.

A small hand grabbed my arm. "Please give me another chance."

"So I'm not dead to you anymore then?" I pulled my arm away from her. "I distinctly remember you saying I was dead to you forever, you can go die in war like the coward you are. You can't take that back Becky, it's not that easy." I started swinging back to my room.

"Okay, okay so I can't take it back. I know I can't take it back but please just hear me out. Zoe, please."

I stopped but I didn't turn around.

"I need to make this right before the end of this week."

"Why?" I sharply spun round. "What can you possibly say that will reverse everything that's happened between us in the space of seven days?"

Becky kept my gaze, her bottom lip wobbling. "I have terminal cancer."

Everything felt heavy. Black dots clouded my vision. Everything was swaying. Becky was going to- no. No. Not the one person who actually cared about me. The word cancer was burning my brain. I felt like my head was floating, and the sea was in my ears. I felt sick.

"Zoe?" I heard a panicked Becky say. "You look paler than normal."

I swallowed trying to open my throat, trying to breath. "Cancer?" The word seemed foreign, distance.

"Yes." Becky smiled at me. How could she be happy at a time like this?

"Nothing much -" I swallowed again "- Nothing much fazes me, but this... This has." My crutches were the only thing keeping me up right now.

"I have a week to live, to laugh, to cry." Becky seemed very far away now, at the end of a dark, narrow tunnel. "And I want to spend those seven days with you, trying to make you forgive me even if it doesn't work." She sounded like she was underwater, slowly being dragged further away from me.

The black dots were now mostly in all of my sight. My head hurt. The ground was getting closer. My legs gave way. My crutches made a crashing sound as they hit the floor. I closed my eyes waiting for my head to make the same sound. Nothing. I was in someone's arms. Safe. The dots crowded my vision, darkness swamping my vision...