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Bucky Barnes

Who, in their right mind, pounds on someone else's door this late at night?

Apprehension draws in me at the knock and I stand slowly, making sure to grab my gun from the table nearby. I pray I don't have to use it.

It could just be a drunken neighbor, but one can never be too safe.

I walk cautiously towards the door when whoever's at it pounds again. I quickly bring my face against it to look through the peep hole and huff when I see Dawn. I can only make out her blonde hair, but it's enough to distinguish her. I toss my gun to the side, knowing I won't need it.

"Seriously, does she ever give up?" I grumble. I quickly open the door only to have the girl collapse forward. I immediately catch her, alarms ringing inside me as I take in her exhausted form. She lifts her head, her usually bright green eyes now dull.

"Help me" she barely even whispers before her eyes flutter shut and she goes limp. I furrow my brows looking down to see blood streaming down her body. I curse, quickly shutting the door.

"Dawn, Dawn can you hear me?" I call out, picking her up easily.

She doesn't respond.

I rake my eyes over her bloodied form, finding a bullet wound in her abdomen and one in her thigh.

"What did you do?" I grumble, placing her down on my bed. I pull the backpack from her shoulders, casting it aside before turning on a nearby light. I run to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit I keep on hand before sprinting back. I rip open the box, fumbling to pull out rubbing alcohol, gauze, and pre-sterilized medical tools.

"You just love getting yourself in trouble, don't you?" I announce, slight panic filtering in when I take notice of just how much blood she's lost. A part of me wants to take her to a nearby hospital, but I know that she would be anything but safe there.

Besides, she saved my life last week. The least I could do is return the favor.

I quickly peel the material of her shirt away to expose her bloodied stomach. I take a piece of cloth coated in alcohol and swiftly clean the area, preparing to pull the bullet from her. I pause, though, when my eyes take in the skin of her stomach.

It's riddled with scars.

My eyes widen slightly, taking in oddly-shaped puncture marks and countless slashes that have scarred over. I look away and back to the bullet wound, quickly getting to work. As I do, my mind whirs over the marks littering her skin.

It's no secret that Dawn is one of the nicest people I've ever met. I mean, she apologized after hitting someone in the fight last week. It makes me wonder how someone like this could ever piss someone off enough to merit what I've just seen. It simply isn't possible.

I guess we all have our secrets.

•••••

Dawn Beckett

I've heard it said that on the brink of death, dreams flash with memory.

If this is true, then I must be dying.

"Oh come on Dawn, please?"

I sigh, looking over to see my brother smiling hopefully at me.

"Fine, only because it's you" I give in. He jumps in victory, picking me up in a bone-crushing hug. I laugh, hitting his back until he puts me down.

"How did I get so lucky with a sister like you?" He asks, ruffling my hair. I hum, shoving him slightly.

"You can thank me for that" my mother calls out. We all burst into laughter, my dad hugging my mother and planting a kiss on her cheek.

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