1.11

I saw red behind my eyelids, and the tears began to pour uncontrollably. I sat up, grabbing the fire blanket and shoving my face into it. I breathed in deeply, trying my hardest to stem the flow.

"Damn it....." I whispered into the blanket, clutching it tightly between my fingers.

I continued to breathe deeply. I continued to shove my face into the blanket. I needed to calm myself down before the guys came back.

"Jamie, are you okay?"

My whole body tensed up. I pulled my face out of the blanket, and I swallowed thickly when I saw the guys looking down at me in concern - Tony with two coffees and Bruce with some hot tea in hand. I still hadn't responded, tears silently slipping down my face. Tony stood back, watching in silence as Bruce set down his mug. Bruce gently laid his hand on my shoulder, shocking me out of my silence. I shook my head quickly, glancing between their faces and Bruce's hand.

"Talk to us, Jamie," Bruce said gently. "Are you alright?"

I forced a smile onto my face, trying to seem as put-together as possible as I balled up the fire blanket. "I'm fine."

"Sunshine..." Tony said softly, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

"No, really," I set the blanket to the side, using my other hand to wipe my tears away. "I'm fine, I promise. Just a really messed up nightmare."

Bruce took his hand away as I moved to stand. Tony, on the other hand, put his cups down and took some steps towards me, putting his hands in his pockets. By the movement underneath the fabric, I could tell that he was nervously fidgeting with his pocket lint.

He met my eye, somehow managing to hold my frazzled gaze. "You wanna talk about it? It might help."

My smile eased into a new place. Although it was still worn and weary, it was changing into something much more genuine than it was before. I had a feeling that this was not something he usually offered.

"Thank you, Tony, Bruce. That really means a lot, but no." I stiffly crossed my arms. "I just need to take a walk, give myself a minute to breathe, you know?"

Bruce's face began to match my own, and he nodded. "It's alright. I understand. Just let me know if you change your mind."

I nodded right back to him. Then, I turned to Tony. His hands had stilled, and his expression had fallen into a stony frown. I met his eye, and I knew; he recognized that excuse. He'd probably used that excuse. He'd probably let that excuse leave his lips more than any man ever should, and I just used the same one.

Nonetheless, he nodded softly. "Alright." He turned to where he'd put the cups, grabbing one and holding it out to me. "Here, maybe this'll help you feel better."

My smile softened as I took the cup from his hands, wrapping my own around it and soaking in the warmth. "Thank you..."

"You're welcome." He smiled back at me.

"For the blanket, too."

Tony didn't respond, but I could see the rush behind his eyes.

"It was really sweet of you, Tony, really."

I didn't wait for a response, turning to the door and walking out of the lab in silence.

----------------------------------

I'd been walking for around ten minutes. My coffee cup was bone dry. My tears had run out, only to be replaced with a raw, violent rage with Loki, the situation I'd found myself in, and my own failings. I threw my cup away in the nearest trash can, starting my trek towards the bridge. As I walked, agents seemed to naturally walk around me. I didn't take notice, though. I didn't care if I scared them at that moment; this was a throw-away loop, anyway.

I entered the bridge in silence, but my presence was known in an instant. Agents looked back at me and instantly looked back at their screens. People were shifting awkwardly in their seats. I could see in his stance that even Fury knew that something was wrong, and he hadn't even turned to face me yet.

I stopped behind him, standing on my tip-toes so that I could tap his shoulder. "Director Fury."

He turned to face me, looking down at me with a strategically placed, curious expression. "Yes, Ms. Breaux?"

I met his gaze evenly, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Could I have a word?"

He was silent for a moment, but ultimately nodded. "Of course." He held his arm up, gesturing to one of the hallways. "Right this way."

I followed him down the hall. I took note of every inch of the hall, how many rooms there were, how many agents we passed, how many steps it took for me to get there in comparison to the director - anything to lessen the force of my anger. Finally, Fury led me to an empty room. He opened the door for me, and I entered in silence. He closed the door behind us. I looked around; it was a kind of conference room. The two of us sat down at the table - Fury in a strategically enacted, comfortable slouch, me in a tense, straight-backed posture with my hands curling in and out of fists on the table.

"So, Ms. Breaux," Fury began. "What would you like to talk about?"

I forced myself to take a deep breath so that I could meet his gaze with a level head. I moved my hands from the table to my lap, gripping onto the edge of my shirt to keep my hands busy.

I met his eye, getting straight to the point. "Coulson is going to die today."

I saw apprehension flash behind his eye. His face didn't so much as flinch. He sat up, leaning on the table.

"Is there anything we can do?" He didn't bother beating around the bush, either.

"I was hoping you could answer that. I've seem multiple outcomes - my getting there before him, my taking his place entirely, my helping him get through the fight - but nothing that I can think of will save him."

Fury had been silent through the whole exchange, nodding his head to show that he was listening.

"You know Coulson better than I do. Heck, you know our enemy better than I do. You've been fighting much longer than I have. Please," I leaned on the table as well, not caring as my hair hung in my face. "Help me save him."

I had never asked for help when it came to my time loops. It'd been eight years, and I'd never once let anyone else get involved. No one got even the slightest taste of the burden on my shoulders. I didn't want to do that to anyone, regardless of whether or not they would remember. But I was desperate. This enemy was much more than the typical armed person or mugger; I had no idea what I was dealing with.

Fury just stared at me. I recognized the gears turning in his head, the dread, carefulness, calculation, and resignation flooding his mind.

His expression never changed as he said, "Well, if what you say is true, then perhaps he needs to die."

I froze, and it seemed that even the world had frozen around me.

"Excuse me?"

Fury linked his fingers together on the table. "Maybe the universe knows that it's his time."

I felt heat in my face, in my chest, and my face contorted in fury as I stood up, my chair screeching on the floor. "Hell no! That answer is a bullshit excuse, and you know it! I thought Coulson was your friend!"

"Ms. Breaux," He calmly addressed me, gesturing to my chair that lay on its side. "Sit down."

"No! I will not sit down." I slammed my hands on the table as angry tears spilled over. "How can you let him die? How can you look me in the eye, knowing that your friend will die a painful death, and not do anything about it? How is that okay?"

"Ms. Breaux, I understand that that thought is not a reassuring one, but I need you to trust me."

I scoffed, taking my hands off the table and taking a step back.

"Trust you?" I smiled, chuckling scornfully. "Why in the ever-loving hell should I trust you?"

"Because I trust you."

The only sound I could hear was my own heavy breathing. Fury's chair creaked as he stood up. He walked around the table in silence, moving to stand in front of me at a comfortable pace. Soon enough, I found myself looking up at the man as his eye bore into me.

"I know about what you can really do." He stated. "I put false information in your file. I'm the only one in all of S.H.I.E.L.D. who knows the truth."

I shook my head, taking a step back. "How could you possibly know that?"

"How many times have you woken up this morning?" He avoided my question, posing his own.

"How many times have you died? How did you die?"

"Please, stop..." I barely even recognized my own voice; it was far too fragile to have come from me.

Fury let the silence ring for a moment.

"You're afraid." He stated. "How easy would it be for someone to take advantage of what you can do? You can't let someone have that kind of control over you, because you barely have control yourself. You don't have power over your own death. You hope that you're not truly immortal, because how could you go on?"

I crossed my arms tightly, as if the action would bring me some form of comfort.

Fury continued, "I trust you to tell your team when you know you can trust them. I trust you to do the right thing, and to make the right call, when there are things going on that the rest of us cannot comprehend.

"Now, trust me when I tell you: you have to let Coulson go."

I heard a boom in the distance. The entire ship shook, but the two of us managed to stay on our feet. Fury turned to the door, his face hardening in resolve. I stood there in stunned silence; how was I supposed to respond to that? He pulled his gun from his holster. He grabbed my hand, turning it over and placing the pistol in my weak grip.

He met my eyes. "Think about it." Then he left, the door closing behind him.

I stared at the door, listening to the muffled chaos on the other side and down the hall. I looked down at my hand. I gripped the pistol tightly, seeing a tear fall on the barrel as I bit my lip.

"God damnit...."

I placed the pistol against my forehead, taking a deep, shaky breath.

I pulled the trigger.

Then everything went dark.