The door opens. Jack immediately lifts his gun. Dixon falls out.

– Brock!

You say, before crawling back inside Pierces office. A gunshot sounds from over your head, you look up and see a guy falling down on the floor, before you continue to make your way over to Brock. Blood pouring out from the wound on his right side.

– JACK!!

You scream!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

More gunshots, before Jack kneels down next to you. Placing two fingers on Rumlows neck, checking his vitals. Then he looks at you. You know it’s only for a second, maybe not even that. But for you, it feels like years.

– Still breathing. Dixon, can you walk?

Dixon manages to sit up. Takes off his west.

– I took one in the west, And one in my arm. I can walk.

– They came by helicopter. Roof!

Jack spits out orders, before he grabs Rumlows arms, and drags him out of the room.

– My gun! Take it!

He orders you. He doesn’t have to say anything else. You know what to do.

Up on the roof, you fire two rounds up in the sky, to get the pilots attention, before you point the gun directly at him, as Dixon and Jack, gets Rumlow inside the helicopter.

– TAKE OFF!

You yell to the pilot. You don’t know if it’s your yelling, the anger in your eyes, or the two guys in the back with Rumlow. Either way, the pilot does as he’s told.

– North General Hospital!

Jack instructs.

– Pierce is the only one who can tell me where to land!

The pilot tries. Jack points his gun to the back of the pilot’s head.

– Pierce is dead. I’m your boss! North General!

You punch in 911 on the helicopters emergency display.

– 911 what’s your emergency?

You take a breath. Try to remember what to say.

– Incoming SHIELD helicopter. Agent down. Stab wound right side, bleeding internally. ETA 2 minutes!

Please help… You think, before you can’t hold your tears back anymore.

———————————————————

Rumlow’s pov:

The happiest day of his life. Days. The day he met you, the day he found out you were pregnant, the day you found out it was a girl, the day Abigail was born, the day you told him you were pregnant again, the day you found out it was a boy, the day babyJack was born, and now, today, having Thanksgiving dinner. Placing that ring on your finger. Having a family of his own. The privilege of being a dad.

Yes, he could easily admit it, it was scary for a while. Not having a fatherly figure growing up. Not knowing what to do. But, you took it so easy. Made everything so easy. And when he held Abigail for the very first time. The first time she grabbed his finger with her small hand. The first time she said “daddy”. He couldn’t even describe it.

You were the ones keeping him alive that day. His will to get to know that little miracle growing inside of you. His love for you. Without you, he would have died that day. You saved him, in every way possible.

He moves closer. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close. Places a kiss on your shoulder.

– Mmmmm.. Brock..

You say, leaning your head back. The noises you make makes him all warm inside.

– I love you!

You turn around. Kiss him. He pulls you even closer.

– I can feel that…

You say, in that teasing way only you can. As you let your hand glide down his side. Letting it stop for a second over his scar. Carefully caressing it. As you keep looking at each other. He knows what’s coming. This have almost become a daily routine. It’s almost like that scar holds you together.

– I love you too, Brock!

You say, before he leans in for a kiss, that smile he feels against his lips is all the encouragement he needs.

– Come here!

He says, as he gets on his back, and drags you up on to him…