[TW: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, ATTEMPTED]

scattered around the world, located on every continent, waiting patiently for their mission. They have no immediate mission when they're sent off. In fact, they're specifically given orders to not make a move at all. They're told to blend in, gather intel, and wait. Sleeper agents are only used as assets when it's time for them to be activated. She had been waiting for months, it was time to wake up. She had her mission.

The brunette exited the old Volkswagen Beetle, shutting the door behind her. She observed as the driver of the blue car, Steve Rogers, spoke to the driver of the white van parked two spaces away. They then addressed a female that had gotten out of the passenger side of the van. During the whole exchange, she said nothing, standing next to her companion. She simply gathered intel.

The sleeper agent had spent a year researching the Avengers, she knew who all of these people were. Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, trained marksman. Wanda Maximoff, aka Scarlett Witch, magic. However, she did not know the man stumbling out of the back door of the van.

The man appeared to be just an ordinary citizen, someone she would see on the streets of the city. Maybe he was just a person Clint grabbed from the sidewalk. Rogers addressed him as a new recruit. Apparently anyone could join the legendary superhero team. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and these sure were desperate times.

The new recruit ecstatically shook Steve's hand, "It's an honor. I'm shaking your hand too long. Wow! This is awesome! Captain America." He turned to look at Wanda, "I know you, too. You're great!" Overwhelmed with the situation, he went through the motions of touching the super soldier's shoulders, practically tripping over his next sentences. "Jeez. Ah, look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people, so thinks for thanking of me."

Sam exchanged a few words with the flabbergasted man while the agent exchanged a look with her friend. Steve cut the conversation short as there was no time to waste. "They tell you what we're up against?"

"Something about some... psycho-assassins."

This caused the silent woman to laugh, drawing the attention of everyone. Her giggle echoed through the empty parking garage, her cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment.

"I don't know who you are," The new recruit admitted. Wanda nodded in agreement, an expression of curiosity on her face.

"Her name is Iris. She's a double agent," Clint explained.

"It's always good to see a familiar face," Iris smiled at him. "Until a few hours ago, I was a sleeper agent waiting for my mission. I've been working for the Joint Counter Terrorist Unit for the past six months."

"Scott Lang," the recruit introduced himself, a nervous expression passing over his feature. "Doesn't the JCTU want to like... arrest Cap?"

"Like Clint, I owe a debt," her hazel irises glanced over at the man that stood next to her. "I know where my loyalties lie."

of the Avengers stood across from one another, an argument over Bucky Barnes unfolding. As it progressed, more members of the divided team revealed themselves, their sides chosen.

"I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart." There was an undertone of pain weaved into Tony Stark's voice.

"You did that when you signed."

"Alright, we're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. Now! Because it's us!"

Iris placed a hand on her friends shoulder, flesh meeting metal. Standing in one of the abandoned airport terminal, Sam and the pair of friends watched the heroes quarreled. The world's mightiest heroes, the team that symbolized hope, was slowly unraveling in ways that couldn't be undone.

Wilson located the quinjet which signaled that it was time to move onto the next part of the plan. The two friends were going to be torn apart once more. "Give them hell," she spoke, nodding her head in encouragement.

Bucky took one last look at the only other person he had beside Rogers, "See you in Siberia." With that, the two men ran off, preparing to join the others on the battlefield that had been made of the runway.

The skilled agent easily maneuvered around the fight, remaining hidden in the shadows of the abandoned terminals. The others were too busy making enemies out of friends to discover that an unidentified person was roaming the area.

She passed the last row of windows that gave her a view of the divided team. They stood opposite of one another, six on each side, ready for war. Those who had fought together, side by side, were now fighting against one another, on opposing sides.

The people of Earth had a habit of spinning tragedies into poetry. In reality, nothing ever ended poetically. Blood had never been beautiful when it was spilled. It had only ever been red. Iris had seen enough red. More importantly, Bucky had seen enough red. Everything he saw was shaded with red, the blood of his past seeping through the sockets of his eyes, staining his pupils. She refused to let him see anymore red.

It was time for her debt to be payed.

The divided heroes were rushing towards one another, soon to become one as they fought. The agents eyes rolled back into her head, darkness creeping into her vision. Summoning the power of Oblivion, she let out a blood curdling scream. The cries of the damned spoke through her, shattering the rows of glass with their tormented pleas.

The twelve people froze, their eyes locked on the the figure emerging from the destruction. It seemed that a cyclical pattern was continuing. Iris always emerged from destruction.

"No!" Bucky yelled, frustration threatening to overtake his body. "That wasn't the plan!"

"Lady, who the hell are you? This event was kind of invite only." Stark voiced, his face revealed as the mask of his suit retracted into itself.

"Iris." Natasha softly spoke, her heart threatening to break as she saw another one of her friends on the opposite side. Clint, Steve, Iris. She was losing her family all over again.

Vision scanned the woman, all available intel loading into his system. "Iris, a sleeper agent inserted into the Joint Counter Terrorist Unit by Nick Fury. S.H.I.E.L.D. files suggest she's not from Earth and has special abilities related to death."

"How is shattering dozens of windows death related?" Stark asked.

"The screams of the tortured," Iris answered, now joining the dismantled team on the runway after scaling the cement building. "Your voice will join them if you don't stop fighting."

"What are you doing here?" Natasha pressed, coming to terms with her grim reality. She was about to lose everyone she loved.

"You mean to tell me you knew about this witch and didn't find it important to bring it up at any point?" Tony countered, scolding Romanoff.

"I have seen empires fall. I have watched as kingdoms crumbled to dust. I have walked the valley of death, bathed in a river of blood. The divide of the Avengers is bound to cause the same for Earth."

"What she says is true," Vision commented, his feet finally touching the ground. He approached Iris, holding out his hand for her to touch. She hesitantly took it. The A.I. titled his head in wonder. "You can't kill me for I have no life source to take, no soul to steal." Vision turned to address Stark, "She knows our fate. Not the details, only the outline. The dead tell her such things."

Tony's mask became whole once more, shielding his face. He was once again Iron Man. "Whatever happens isn't our fault. It's his." He pointed directly at Steve.

"You are making a mistake," the girl warned him, taking a position next to Bucky.

"The only mistake I made was trusting America's star spangled boy.

"I don't want to kill you," Iris spoke, practically pleading with Tony. She was constantly surrounded by death, lived off of it, but did not crave it.

That would be her undoing, her hamartia.

"You won't." With those two words, the opposing forces regrouped, ready to face off once more.

Bucky grabbed his friends hand, pulling her close so only she could hear him. "Slip into the shadows when the fighting starts. Become a ghost. You have to get to Siberia and execute the plan."

"What do we do, Cap?"

"We fight."

The two teams started towards one another, picking up speed as they grew closer. Grim determination was etched into their faces like stone carved statues. She heard the chants of the dead, ready to add more to their ever growing collection.

"They're not stopping."

"Neither are we."

surrounded by the deceased soldiers embalmed in hazy, yellow liquid. There was a bullet hole placed directly between their eyes. Each and every one of them had the matching wound. Even in death, they were unified. The lights overhead flickered, not having been in use for decades. In the flickering light, she took in her surroundings, familiarizing herself with the building as much as possible.

"I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized... there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw."

That voice. She had heard it before.

"You're Sokovian. Is that what this is about?"

Sokovia.

"Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise."

"You lost someone?"

Debris. Dust. Destruction. Death.

"I lost everyone. And so will you." A grainy video began playing on the ancient screen. "An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead... forever."

Stark watched in horror as the death of his parents unfolded before his eyes. His parents had died at the hands of the Winter Soldier. Bucky Barnes had died at the hands of HYDRA. Bucky hasn't killed Stark's parents, HYDRA did.

As Steve and Tony's friendship was torn apart at the seams, the Sokovian disappeared, becoming one with the flickering lights. The three men hadn't noticed, another fight was brewing. "Go!" Bucky insisted upon seeing the girl whirling around in circles, her eyes searching the room.

She sprinted out of the building, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was a sleeper agent. She was now awake. She had a mission. This was her mission.

Mission. Mission. Mission.

In the snowy mountains outside the compound, she found her target. His black jacket contrasted with the fresh snow cover. He was the evil piercing the landscape trying to recover from the evil that had taken place in the compound.

He held a phone to his ear, staring off into space, remembering a time that once was. The voice of his wife played through the speaker, the subject being their son. Once the message cut off with an "I love you", he deleted the voicemail without any hesitation. This was his final declaration of love.

T'Challa was slowly approaching him, stealthily placing his mask in the snow. She ran faster, her lungs constricting as she forced the frigid air into them. "T'Challa, no!"

The man stood up, spinning around with his finger on the trigger of his gun. She reached the Wakandan, forcing herself between him and the terrorist. Her eyes fell upon a familiar face. She knew him. He knew her.

"You..." he mumbled, his voice falling off into the winter landscape. A silence ensued that would envelope them in the moment for the rest of their lives.

She finally spoke, "You're not going to shoot me."

His eyes slightly softened as he took in the sight of the woman who had located the bodies of his family. He had thought about her almost as much as he had thought about them.

"Stand down," she told the Wakandan, slowly closing the distance between her and the man. The Black Panther did as he was told, keeping his distance from the two.

The Sokovian lowered his weapon, his finger still hovering over the trigger. The woman grabbed his hand, leading him back to the jagged rock he had been sitting on before. She pulled him down with her, huddling close.

It was just the two of them at the edge of the world. No one else existed. They were merely dancing on the line between life and death. Together.

"I understand how you feel," she whispered, her voice not able to speak any louder in the moment. "All I've ever known is death."

"How did you know where to find them?"

"They told me."

Silence.

"Necromancy."

The two stared into the white abyss, contemplating life, looking death in its face.

"I would have brought them back to you but I could have only brought one. A life for a life."

"They didn't deserve to see the world in such a disarray."

"Your grief is not permanent," Iris told him, her eyes flicking over to him. "Even I, one born from destruction and decay, have been able to find beauty in this lifetime."

"It's overwhelming." She could barely hear him. "I'm drowning in it."

"I know."

"What is after this lifetime?" He asked her, a solemn look on his face. He looked like a man that had accepted his fate.

"Truthfully, I couldn't tell you. I am reincarnated over and over again. My master has made it that way. I do know that our souls live on. Those can't be destroyed."

"Have you ever taken a life?"

Silence.

"I have the Touch of Death. I have the ability to drain the life force of anyone I touch. Their force makes me stronger."

His eyes finally found hers.

"Why haven't you killed me?"

Her fingers still lightly touched his. She was his anchor to this life. Ironic for someone who brought death.

"I don't believe you deserve to die."

Her mind had been made up. She could no longer repay her debt.

"There's a memorial in Sokovia," she spoke, needing to fill the void of silence which allowed him to contemplate the end. "We could go there."

"Enough!" T'Challa interrupted, never allowing the man to answer.

The two were brought back to reality. It was no longer just them at the edge of the world. It was them, along with the other desolate souls, amid the decay of life.

Hands grabbed her from under her arms, ripping her away from the man. "No!" She fought back, ramming her heels into the ground as the Wakandan began to forcibly remove her.

The Sokovian grabbed her hand, their connection stronger than the Wakandan. "Promise me you'll visit the memorial," he rushed out, time not on their side.

"I promise!" Iris swore, grabbing for him with her other hand.

She was too late. He let go.

T'Challa threw her into the snow, his patience worn thin as he too grieved for someone he lost. "Go find the others," he commanded.

Her boots left footprints behind her as she walked away, a piece of her feeling as if she was dying herself. This wasn't normal death. No, she had experienced normal death thousands of times before. This was the breaking of a heart. This was a much more tragic death.

"Justice will come soon enough."

A pause.

"Tell that to the dead."

Iris turned around, her ponytail whipping in the wind as she stopped. In a blur of motion, the man pulled the trigger of the gun, barrel aimed at himself. T'Challa stopped the bullet just in time, grabbing ahold of the Sokovian, and restraining him.

Tears threatened to fall down her wind flushed cheeks as she watched the suicidal man struggle against the Wakandan. If they fell, they would be frozen, a permanent reminder of her loss. Their eyes met for a second.

"The living aren't done with you yet."

Iris could raise the dead but she had never been able to save the living.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*