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( avengers: infinity war )
★
COLD.
CHLOE WAS cold.
Barely registering the concerned looks she was receiving, the woman sat alone in the Quinjet, her eyes staring off into space as her―
―Were they her friends? Gone for two years, with little contact in the beginning, and none in the end. Only showing up when they felt it necessary or convenient, and not even able to save the lives they swore to protect.
(It's not like she was any better, though.)
No, as far as Chloe was aware, being a friend meant to comfort and support, and while she had been giving― she sure as hell wasn't receiving. Her cold eyes grew to ice as her fists clenched. Looking around the Quinjet, the Assassin saw her... kidnappers pilot the vehicle up the coast to where she assumed the Avengers base resided.
A puff of fire escaped her nostrils as she stood, drawing the attention of the two females. Wanda watched with a pained expression, and Natasha sat idly by with narrowed eyes and twitching fingers, shuffling slowly to the control panel in the front.
Natasha lunged at Chloe as she tried to take control of the panel.
The entire jet sprung into action: Sam slammed the plane into auto, Steve joined Natasha in restraining Chloe, and Wanda's eyes flashed red in case, standing with red mist flowing to the ground.
Chloe struggled against the Captain and the assassin, her red and puffy eyes glaring at the people she used to call friends. "Let me go, Steve!"
"Not going to happen," he said, adjusting his grip in half a second in order to gain a tighter hold. "This is for your own good, Chloe, trust me."
"Since when have you cared about my well being?" she screeched, clawing at his arms and kicking out at Natasha. "Let me go!"
"Listen to me, Frye," Natasha said, clasping her hands around the girl's wrists. "Alex is gone. There's nothing you can do about―"
"―Bullshit!" she cursed, wriggling around in Steve's tight hold. "Take me back! The other Assassins―"
Natasha's tone turned bitter. "What will you do, huh? Go into the fire to drag out his lifeless body? Their burnt, lifeless bodies? Try to kill the person who did this? What would Alex say―"
"―Don't you dare talk about him like you know him," Chloe said bitterly, stopping her struggle. She didn't notice when Steve released her to the point where only her wrist was being held. "Alex was my only family. He was my best friend."
"And what, we're chopped liver?" Sam questioned, his tone snapping.
"At least he didn't give me almost two years of radio silence!" she screamed, silencing every thought in the cabin. "He was worth more than all of you. You're probably here because you need something from me, like the leeches you are."
Chloe stared down all of them, her green eyes hardening and turning cold. She spat out the acidic words, hoping to tear down the self-appointed heroes and make them see the "real world", or at least her world.
"I waited two years for you all, and got nothing." she fumed, silent tears working her way down her flushed cheeks.
"You only came when it was convenient for you, and it was still too late."
★
The next two hours in the jet were tense and anticipatory like the Rogues were waiting for Chloe to finally break down. By the time they had touched down at the Avengers compound in New York, Chloe's nerves had steeled, her stomach had hardened, and the walls that crumbled years ago returned.
The Avengers had never seen Chloe break down. They had never seen her snap. And the only person who had was gone because of her.
When the ramp opened, the Assassin practically ran out of the jet and towards the woods, her hands shaking and already reaching for the ancient sword attached to her hip.
(She didn't see both Wanda and Natasha hold Steve back when he tried to go after her. A past Chloe would've rolled her eyes and poked fun at him, but both women knew they were stuck with The Assassin, as the media had decided to call her.)
A scream tore at her throat as she slashed the nearest tree next to her. Steel met bark with a harsh vigor, tearing up the tree and the sword at the same time. She could feel a presence scolding her, but that didn't matter. Nothing did anymore.
Next was the quiver and then the bow, followed closely by the knives, guns, and more she had gathered with her fight against that blue monster. A pile she made of everything that had defined her for the past four years or so, thrown to the ground to be discarded. Her hand froze at her wrist, the shaking appendage hovering just over the straps of her hidden blade.
"You did say you wanted to help Romanoff and Rogers, right? This is a way to do it, using your vision for the greater good."
"Chloe Frye don't you dare hang up your phone."
"Just promise me you'll be safe."
"Is that why you look like an idiot nowadays?"
"Don't die."
The next piece added to her waste pile was herself, a harsh sob releasing from the very depths of her soul.
Chloe hadn't just lost her last piece of family, her best friend, her anchor. She just lost her home, her ideals, her morals, her people― the Assassin Order was already stretched too thin, and by allowing her past self to allow Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, and the others into her life signed the only people who truly knew her up for an early grave.
Who else was she to blame but herself?
Pathetic, was what she was. Crying over a blade that had claimed more lives than she cared to count. Crying over an organization that was close to death. Crying over just another lost family member in the line of those that had left her.
God, what an idiot he was. Why in the hell did he think he would come out alive? A boy with asthma and a fear of heights, trying to save a trained Assassin who lived for the fight, who reeked of blood and―
―Two arms wrapped around her, light and long hair filling her vision along with a blond gathering the discarded weapons.
Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff let a little light into her dark and constricting cave, and a boy with warm green eyes and healthy brown hair and a soft sweater smiled at her, leaving her with one last message.
Love you.
★
wow i love angst
100% honest here, i cried writing that. i have no idea what it was like reading that.
sorry it hasn't been really avengers-y, but i am building up to that. trying to establish a thorough motive here, and i'm realizing i might be taking it a little too far, whoops.
(stages of grief? who's she? i only know anger sorry)
