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“-ker…in…John! Co–in…”
John blinked and stood up slowly, staggering to the side as his ears rang painfully. Everything felt muted in his right ear, and he tilted his head to the side and flexed his jaw to try and fix it. He could hear a voice cutting in and out of his ear, but he didn’t recognize it. Russian accent, female voice. He blinked and caught himself against a wall with a low groan, blinking again and shaking his head. The area he was in was ruined. Rubble and debris was scattered across the ground, marble columns toppled over and burn marks scarring the ones that were still standing. There was a haze in the air and he coughed as he breathed in too deeply, whatever it was irritating his throat as soon as it entered.
“John!” a familiar voice shouted and he spun around, stumbling slightly as the world shifted around him. “Where are you?”
“Lemar?” John replied, coughing harshly and falling to his knees. He pushed himself back to his feet and looked around frantically. “Lemar! I’m here!”
“John!”
The world swam in his vision, and he groaned and grabbed the nearest column to keep himself on his feet. He couldn’t find his shield. His helmet was cracked, he could feel blood running down his face. He had no idea where he was or what was happening. But Lemar was out there, sounding like he was in pain, and John had to get to him before—before something happened. He stumbled forward one step at a time, the haze seemingly growing thicker with every passing second. Something moved out of the corner of his eye and he turned, relief flooding his veins as he saw Lemar.
“Lemar! Hey, hey, I’m here,” he shouted as he ran forward, only for Lemar to vanish into the haze. John’s hands slammed into a wall where Lemar should have been and he paused and looked at his hands with confusion. “Lemar?”
“Help me–”
John spun around, but the voice that had been right in his ear was gone before he had the chance to look. His eyes were burning and he blinked frantically in an effort to clear them. A nauseating crack echoed through the air and he felt the oxygen get stolen from his lungs. He sprinted in the direction of the sound, falling to the side and shoving himself off the column he had slammed his shoulder into. The haze cleared for a moment and he saw a body crumpled at the base of a column that was cracked down the middle. Terror made his blood run cold and he fell to his knees, grabbing Lemar’s face with both hands.
“Lemar?” John whispered, his voice breaking as he wiped blood away from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered before brown eyes met his eyes and stared at him with a glossy gaze. “Hey. I got you, you’re–”
“You didn’t,” Lemar mumbled and John froze as more blood ran from Lemar’s lips and nose. “You were too slow.”
“L–”
“You watched,” Lemar’s voice sounded wrong, broken and cracking as he leaned into John’s face, close enough that he could smell blood with every exhale that brushed over his skin. “You watched as they killed me and did nothing. I saved you, and you let me die.”
“No, I–I wanted to-I tried,” John said as he stumbled back, hands falling to his sides as Lemar remained slouched against the column.
He bared bloody teeth, “Trying wasn’t good enough, John.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered weakly. His legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees, barely biting back the scream that was trying to escape. “I’m sorry. I–I failed, Lemar, I’m sorry.”
Lemar coughed, a bloody, wet rattling noise, and went still. John stared at him as his eyes burned until he had to close them. He let out a weak sob and fell forward, barely able to support himself on his hands and knees as sobs shook his entire body. Hands on his shoulders made him lurch away from the unexpected touch, thrashing weakly as he screamed. He opened his eyes and searched for Lemar, but there was no one on the column. No blood streaked down it or on his hands. He screamed again and the hands on his shoulders tightened.
“Walker!” the female voice was back, in his ear but muffled strangely. He reached up and grabbed her forearms where they were looped over his chest, supporting his weight even as he struggled to get away from her. His fingers wrapped around her arms in a tight grip, squeezing firmly. “Come on, Walker. Open your eyes.”
His eyes were open already. She didn’t know what she was talking about. He opened his eyes and the world changed around him as he blinked away the residual burn, tears running down his face in more force than when he had gone through a gas chamber. He looked down where his hands were squeezing body armor – familiar body armor, black and covered in nicks and scratches and dust. He coughed and lurched forward as his stomach revolted against his body.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped when he managed to catch his breath enough in between retches. “I killed–I killed him. I’m sorry.”
“Walker, try not to breathe too much,” Yelena said cautiously. He twisted in her grip enough to see her out of the corner of his eye. She had a plastic mask covering her face, a respirator that was muffling her voice and protecting her from whatever the haze was that was still burning his eyes and lungs. “We don’t know what this is.”
“John!”
“Olivia?” John whispered and he heard Yelena say something, but it fell on deaf ears as Olivia screamed his name again. “Olivia!”
He thrashed against Yelena and managed to free himself, staggering forward as he looked around frantically. A baby screamed in the distance and he started to run, only to be tackled to the ground. He rolled and pinned the person under him, rearing back to punch her when arms caught him and pinned his arms behind his back. He let out a frustrated shout as the baby’s crying grew louder.
“That’s my son!” he screamed and strained against the hold. “Please–”
Something was pulled over his face and he continued his struggles. Yelena managed to get out from under him, wrapping her arms around him to help whoever was holding his arms in place. His head tipped forward and he screamed before falling limp and gasping for air. The world was still spinning around him, but it was quiet. He couldn’t hear Olivia or his son, he couldn’t hear anything but his own ragged breathing. He sobbed and lifted a hand up, catching the wrist of one of the people holding him. Thicker than Yelena’s, no hard body armor to protect it.
“We got you,” Bob whispered in his ear, his voice also strangely muffled like Yelena’s. John squeezed his arm tighter and Bob turned his arm until he was holding John’s forearm in the same grip, squeezing tightly in return. “We’ve got you.”
“I’m sorry–” John’s voice broke and he sobbed openly, even as the burning faded from his eyes and throat. “I’m sorry. I–I failed. I failed. I’m sorry.”
“No, you didn’t,” Yelena said firmly enough that John almost could believe her. She tugged on his arm and Bob did the same, slowly managing to get him on his feet. “C’mon, we have to get out of here.”
His chest was shaking, and he couldn’t take a full breath without a sob tearing out of his throat. He leaned heavily into Bob and Yelena, one arm around each of their shoulders. Each step was a fight, exhaustion weighing him down the more they walked. They made it outside, and Yelena climbed into the back of a truck with him while Bob ran to the front. He breathed in deeply when Yelena helped him pull the respirator off, coughing harshly and running his hands over his face. Yelena held out a towel and he wiped at his nose and eyes, wincing at the burn that was still present.
“Are…are you okay?” Yelena asked quietly, sounding just as uncomfortable asking the question as John felt having to answer it.
John cleared his throat and wiped at his face again, “Y-yeah. I’m fine.”
“You–we could hear you,” Yelena said, not meeting his eyes as she fidgeted with an oxygen mask for a few seconds before holding it out to him.
“I don’t nee–”
“You were inhaling that gas for thirty minutes and we don’t know what it is. Just put the goddamn mask on,” Yelena snapped and John held his hands up in a surrendering motion before accepting the mask and holding it over his mouth and nose. “We could hear you screaming.”
“I’m fine,” John repeated, and Yelena rolled her eyes. “Why would I not be fine?”
“You were screaming for us to kill you,” Yelena whispered and John paused, breathing through the mask for a few seconds. “You–you kept shouting for other people, and then told us to kill you. I–I know how…how it feels to think that–”
“I didn’t say that,” John said slowly. “I never said that.”
“You did,” Yelena replied with a shrug. “You might not remember, but we could all hear–”
“I’m sorry,” John said for what felt like the millionth time that day. “The mission probably went to shit because of me, didn’t it?”
“No. No, Walker, that’s not what I meant,” Yelena said before cutting herself off with a harsh exhale. “We were worried about you.”
John stared down at his hands, still able to see Lemar’s blood on his fingers even though he knew logically it had never been there. He shook his head slowly and took a breath, finally able to inhale fully without coughing even once. His hands were trembling, but his voice was steady, “I’ve killed and let down…so many people. I don’t–I don’t know how any of you can trust me.”
“I’ve killed over 300 people,” Yelena said so flatly that it startled a laugh out of John. She shrugged and tilted her head to the side, studying her nails like she had any interest in them. “I don’t remember most of them. Some were my teammates. I don’t think any of you should trust me.”
“That’s different, you weren’t in control of those situations.”
“And you were? You can control everything, all of the time?” Yelena shot back and John paused, his jaw snapping shut with enough force that he could hear his teeth clack together. She studied him for a few seconds before shrugging and stretching out over a bench. “We trust you and care about you because you’re part of this team whether you like it or not, Walker. Get with the game and get out of your head.”