TWENTY ONE. ten is xi's unlucky number

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          ━━ THE AGENTS SAT AROUND XIOMARA'S BED, eating the breakfasts on their plates. It took a few minutes for Xiomara to eat her food, considering she had to use her non-dominant hand. Nat wanted to help, but she couldn't reveal what happened between her and Xiomara. So, she could only focus on her own plate.

"Monica, how's your mom?" The tanned woman looked to Monica. She needed to fill the silence with something. "She's... she's a bit disturbed. She's been kidnapped for weeks, and we all know HYDRA wasn't giving her or anyone else a hot plate. She has a psychiatrist appointment later on. I think it's a group thing, for all the kidnapped agents."

"I talked to her this morning." Dominic offered with crossed arms. He laid back in his chair before speaking again. "She was acting like she was fine, but I can tell she wasn't. Same with Fury. As a matter of fact, Clint and I visited him together. They're both trying to convince us that they're fine. They said 'fine' so many times that it didn't sound like a word anymore."

"What are we- what happens now?" Jimmy let out under his breath before looking at the other agents. "This is one of the most personal blows any of us have received in a long, long while. What happens now?"

"I'm taking a break," Monica stated shakily. "I'm not doing anything agent-like until my mom is ok. I suggest that you all do the same."

"I say this begrudgingly, but I kinda agree." Xiomara nodded before spooning a bit of egg into her mouth. "We all need to heal... some of us physically, all of us mentally."

"We're agents. Our job is to fight and get back up again. That's our job description. We go on break until we get another mission." Nat defended, which got everyone to stare at her.

"Dude..." Dominic's brows furrowed. "I think you need to take a break more than all of us."

"I agree with Romanoff." Maria sided with the redhead. "We get paid to work. Most of us enjoy what we do-"

"Yeah, and we can all agree that we don't need to collapse on the job." Jimmy argued, speaking in a confrontational tone. "Who said we even need to agree?" Clint sat up, placing his spoon on his empty tray. "You take your break, we won't. Some of us have children to support."

"Yeah, and your children would be real upset when they find out Daddy passed out while fighting in Lisbon, or Montevideo, or wherever S.H.I.E.L.D took him." Xiomara's eyes narrowed.

"I'm the villain for caring about my kids? Seriously?"

"We're all the best in our organizations! Rambeau and Fury would be generous with paid leave!"

"Yeah, but Clint is right. We don't have to agree with other people's choices." Monica gave in with a sigh of defeat. "All I can say is that I'm taking a break." She stood up before exiting the room, and Xiomara assumed that she was visiting her mother.

One by one, the agents filed out of the room, leaving Nat and Xiomara alone yet again. "I still think you should take a break." The injured woman insisted, her eyes locking on Nat's emerald green ones. She would've stared into them all day... if that wasn't creepy. "You took, like, eighty punches to the stomach. That's not healthy."

"I'm fine. I don't need a break." Nat's body seemed to tense up ever-so-slightly, and Xiomara noticed that Nat's right pointer finger was picking at her thumb cuticle. "Please, cariño terca. You need it more than I, and I just had a radioactive bullet in my knee."

"Hearing you speak Spanish is so pretty. You know that, right?"

"Then translate this; Sé que estás tratano de cambiar el tema con cumplidos, pero eso no funcionará." I know you're trying to change the subject with compliments, but that won't work.She raised a brow while giving her an enigmatic smile. Nat could only give her a blank stare.

"Something about a compliment?" She shrugged, Xiomara chuckling. "Yes, Nat. You're trying to change the subject by complimenting me, and I'm telling you now, it won't work."

"I don't have to listen to you," Her head tilted to the side. "I'm an adult."

"I know you don't, and I know you probably won't. I just hope you will."

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"How long should recovery be?" Xiomara looked to the doctor, who held her charts in her hand. The doctor, whose nametag read 'Helen Cho,' seemed to hesitate momentarily. To the untrained eye, it was unnoticeable.

To Xiomara's very trained eye, it could mean life or death.

"Miss Dominguez..."

"Oh God, how long?" She put a hand to her forehead. "Nothing ever good comes out of the 'Miss,' so is it that bad?"

"Well, do you want me to start with the good news?" Dr. Cho inquired politely, Xiomara nodding. "Well, the good news is that everything is healing nicely. You should be able to walk again. Also, the radiation hasn't caused any damage. Not any that we can see."

"And the bad news?"

"Your knee could take up to six months to heal, and your hand could take up to four months."

"Ten months?! Ten months in total?!"

"Your injuries are extensive, Miss Dominguez. We're working on technology that should speed up the healing process, but for right now, you're looking up to seven months of healing time." Dr. Cho explained, Xiomara shutting her eyes as she processed the information. "Fine. So that's ten months of life wasted. Got it." She nodded before opening her eyes. "Can you get Stark in here, please?"

"Are you sure you want Mr. Stark? You know more than I do that he isn't very... sensitive when it comes to these types of things. Are you sure?" The doctor doubted. She wasn't wrong to be cautious; Tony Stark is a very self-absorbed man.

"I'm sure, but, uh, thanks for caring, Doctor." Xiomara thanked her shakily, hastily wiping the tears that had sprung into her eyes. Dr. Cho gave a singular nod before turning and exiting the room. If Tony had technology as Torres said, Xiomara had to find out what he could do for her, and how fast it could get done.

After all, her entire job is running around and using her body as a weapon. How is she supposed to do that with a singular leg and arm?
















{ AUTHOR'S NOTE }

sorry this chapter
is shorter than normal!

- V

SUCKER FOR PAIN ▹ N. RomanoffWhere stories live. Discover now