When Home is Not a Home Anymore | Captain America X OC |

Chapter One *Annabel's POV*

Trying to get up from the ground I watch as the others fight the mutants. I tried to stand up to help my friends but watching helplessly as many try to take this one mutant was hard. I look around to see my friend Mystique helplessly lying bleeding a few feet to my right.

After trying to get up I start to crawl towards Mystique to try and heal with the stuff that was on me. I could barely make a few feet when a dagger was thrown at me. I dodged it and looked over towards the fight.

What the hell guys I am trying to heal Mystique. I telepathically messaged the others.

Sorry. My bad. I couldn't tell who sent it but I kept on crawling over. As I made my way over I could see how ghostly blue skin of Mystique.

I whispered, "Please stay alive not for me but for everyone here."

Once I make it over I looked all over her body and noticed blood seeping out. I grabbed her hand and checked her pulse. It was faint but I could tell I can somewhat save her but needed to get her out of there. The issue is nowhere safe to bring her to without causing a distraction but everyone is so focused on fighting the monster to help them.

I could faintly hear in my head, It is okay Annabel. I know you are trying but I do not know if I can be teleported or moved without losing more blood.

I silently cried, What do you want me to do? I do not want to lose you. I already lost so much in my life.

Mystique reaches out, gently clasps her hand over mine, and faintly smiles at me. It will be fine. I know you are trying your best and there is nothing really you could do right now.

I look over at my friends who were fighting and then back at Mystique and watch as the others fight. I thought to myself how am I supposed to protect everyone when I need to heal a friend? Why isn't anyone else helping us out? I am not the team healer but everyone expects me to be.

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*Time Skip*

I walk off the helipad and headed towards the door while people were rushing to get Mystique to the hospital bay of the mansion. Charles was rolling over to me. I kept on walking but he followed. I did not want to talk to anyone.

He starts to say, "Annabel what happened..."

I snapped, "I do not want to hear anything from you. You should pull us when you both me and Mystique blacked out. SHE IS DYING CHARLES. But no we had to take down whoever we are fighting."

Storm looks over at me when I snapped at Charles and shakes her head at Charles. Charles did not respond and I headed towards the door. I rushed down the stairs and passed by many students. I rushed to find my room and slammed the door shut. I sink to the floor covering my mouth and sobbing into my hands. I looked across my room to the photos hanging along the edge of my window. Each photo was a friend/teammate of mine and I. Mystique, Hank, and I was some of the remaining people on the original team when I first joined X-Men.

*a Few hours later*

I hear a knock on my door. I grumbled and didn't move. I sat still in front of my door slouched

"Annabel, it is me, Hank. I just want to check up on you."

I sobbed, "I am not okay Hank. But I do not want to talk about it."

"It is okay. It is not your fault just know that. I am sorry."

I sobbed heavily, "I have to ask how's Mystique?"

He sighs, "Not doing well sadly, but you did not have the proper equipment and no one was being careful about sending it toward you. I know others will say otherwise but I can tell you are in pain for what happened."

I sob and silently say, "What should I do? The mansion is becoming less and less like a home."

"You can always leave you know. I understand that. You are not the first one to leave under circumstances like this."

I whimper, "Is it really that safe Hank? I don't want to be tracked or found and brought back."

I hear a chuckle from the other side of the door, "Two of the previous mutants who left here have not been found or tracked. Whatever they did make to leave no trace before disappearing worked for them. It is up to you Annie. I'm not forcing you to do anything."

I hear movement outside my door and the footsteps growing quieter. I sit contemplating whether I should go or not. If I leave I leave behind everything I know of or stay behind and be set aside after a failed mission. I sigh and look around the room I lived in for the past twenty-something years and the haunting memories of those whose pasts linger. I look over to the photos on the window sill.

If I leave now will no one even notice? This place has not felt like home. Where should I go? Where should I hide? Who will care if I am gone?