"I don't think of all the misery, but of all the beauty that remains."

Anne Frank

          Ophelia was no stranger to death; she knew each symptom that arose from believing that she was going to die. The heightened senses always struck her; it was as if everything in front of her became so clear. Ahead the Quinjet sat, untouched and untarnished; the brilliant grey-silver seemed to gleam in the small amount of light that was let in. The crash of the rubble all around Ophelia boomed louder than Scott Lang's voice when he grew to immeasurable size. Each slab of concrete thundered down, each metal beam clattered violently; so loud that it felt as though it were crashing down upon Ophelia's head. In the air there was dust, and it dried the inside of her mouth, making her tongue feel numb, as though she couldn't call out and cry in pain. A combination of dust, sweat, smoke and a faint hint of gas filled Ophelia's nose.

          But these were not the senses of death; when Ophelia focused on what was actually happening instead of all the little things around her, she realized that she was on the ground, with her hands in front of her face to prevent her from hitting her head against the concrete. As she mentally studied each part of her body, she realized that she was not being crushed by the building, but half of her was underneath someone. A shuffle and a groan quickly followed, and she was released from someone's grip. She knew that it was Bucky; she knew that he had been aware that she wouldn't make it passed the falling building in time and so he turned back and grabbed her, and then pushed her ahead. He clambered over her as she rolled onto her back, feeling injured just enough to groan as she moved. But nothing was broken, and she was alive.

         "O." Bucky slid his hand underneath her head to ensure that there was no damage, his knees were on either side of her hips. "Are you okay? O, please."

          Ophelia tightened her eyelids, and then opened them to see Bucky above her. "Just a little bruised."

          He let out a sigh of relief, and grabbed her hand to pull her up. She winced, something was bruised on her left side, but she had suffered worse, and so she straightened up to appear as though she was indifferent to the pain. Ahead of them the Quinjet sat, but even closer to them, Natasha stood. Her arm was held out as it had been before, the electric bracelet pointed towards them. Ophelia knew that Natasha was going to use this against her; panic and fear mingled in her heart.

            But she was fully aware of what Bucky was willing to do to keep Ophelia safe, and if Ophelia was stopped, so was Bucky. She swallowed nervously, and watched as Bucky took a protective step in front of her.

         "You're not going to stop, are you?" she asked Steve as a friend, but there was disappointment in her voice. Whether it was in Steve or in herself, Ophelia didn't know.

          Steve shook his head, and Natasha sighed. "I'm going to regret this."

          The blast rippled from the bracelet, but it went beyond Steve, Bucky and Ophelia, and instead her shot hit T'Challa. The man was right behind them, and everyone was startled upon seeing him there. As he fought the pain of the electricity, but was forced to stop his pursuit to kill Bucky, the trio quickly rushed to the Quinjet. 

         Steve gave a thankful nod towards Natasha; she had seen both sides, and understood when to stop the fight. No one needed to die, no more people needed to suffer, and she saw that. A great swell of respect for her filled Ophelia as she rushed towards the jet. Just because they had fired it up and had punched in the coordinates for Siberia, did not mean that they were in the clear. Everyone else was still fighting out there, but if they were quick and smart about it, they could get out of range before Tony or Rhodes caught up. Once they were out of range, no one would know where they were going.

          Steve was in the front, the Quinjet rose from its resting spot and they were able to navigate through the small gap over the rubble. Ophelia fumbled slightly as she tried to clasp her safety buckles on. Bucky crouched in front of her and helped her, his smooth, flawless movements assisting her as her hands suddenly shook. Things had not turned out the way she expected them to when she got up that morning, and after Bucky had gotten her buckled in, he placed his head upon her thighs for a brief second. It calmed her right down, her heart rate lowering, but her hands still shook. Leaving behind all those good people while she, once a HYDRA weapon, a woman with blood on her hands, got away. She breathed in through gritted teeth and ran her hands through Bucky's hair, comforting him as he comforted her.

           "Buckle up." Steve glanced behind him. "We've got two tails."

            Bucky rose to his feet, unshaking despite the shudder of the Quinjet. He placed his hand upon Ophelia's chin, looking in her eyes and she saw the pain inside; he was feeling the same thing that she was. He took the seat beside her, both of them were sitting behind Steve, the cloudless sky ahead of them the only thing they could see. Steve pushed the accelerator and took off faster, escaping the battle below without knowing what was occurring; he put his trust in Sam and the others to take care of Stark and Rhodes, but he did not know at what cost it came at.

           Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff and Scott Lang had sacrificed their freedom for them to get away. Driven by their loyalty to Steve Rogers, they risked their lives to fight against people they cared about. It did not sit right with Ophelia that she was able to escape, knowing that she should be right next to them in their cells, wherever they ended up. Thinking about what Clint had said, that they wouldn't let someone like her ever get another chance at life, they wouldn't think twice about anything she had to say to defend her position. But someone like him, someone like Sam, they had a shot at redemption. Lawyers, courts, they had credible backgrounds to defend their actions. And yet, when Ophelia thought about Wanda behind bars, it made her squirm.

          It was as if Bucky could read her mind, because after a half hour of silence, he finally spoke. "I'm not sure I'm worth all this."

          Ophelia dipped her head, because she felt exactly the same. She flexed her fingerless-glove clad hands and took a breath that lifted her chest up against the buckles that Bucky had put on her. Once again, she felt helpless. Even with the powers that she had recently discovered she harnessed, she had no control over them, and she was hardly able to use them to win the fight. It was hardly a fight considered won, because so many had lost. 

          Lifting her head up again, she turned it against the headrest and looked across over to Bucky. Halfway through reaching out her hand to comfort and console him, she reconsidered, and placed her hand between her thighs to stop her jittery nerves from getting the best of her. She hadn't realized that the underlying reason behind her nerves was not because of the fight that was behind them, but the one that was coming up.

           Ever since she had woken up in that motel, dingy as it was, she hoped that she would never find herself back here. Having sat across from the very man who had tried to kill her on those Helicarriers, and having him slowly regain control of his own mind, she had known in that moment that she would be free. Of course she worried HYDRA would come for her, but after their existence went public, they had to back into the shadows once again. All those years ago, when her body was riddled with bullet holes, but Bucky slowly found himself within the Winter Soldier, Ophelia had known that when their greatest weapon that had shaped the world for HYDRA's benefit had broken from them, so would she. But now she was going back into that cave of a HYDRA base that she had lived in for so many years.

           Steve was always good with his words, especially when it came to his best friend. "All those years, it wasn't you."

          "I know." The words were supposed to comfort Bucky, but it was beyond that now. "But I did it."

          "Bucky," Ophelia sighed, "the things you did- the things we did- they don't define us to the ones who matter."

           He tried to smile, but Ophelia knew better than to believe it was authentic. He was giving it for show, but there was a tightness in his jaw and lips that she could pinpoint. Even blindfolded, she would have known; there was something so powerful about knowing every last detail about the person you loved. Sometimes it was painful to know everything, to be able to see everything. If either of them wanted to lie about how they felt in order to spare the other of suffering with them, it was no longer possible. But that in itself was something marvelous, something Ophelia wouldn't ever change for anything in the world.

         "No..." His voice trailed off.

          She could not mend him, and yet it was her who felt broken because of it.