Namara stared out the truck window, once again they'd been driving for hours. Steve taking her back to Avengers tower. Steve seemed to be driving in an usual solemn silence. His heartbeat was too loud in her ears. That was one part of her mutation Namara could live without. She could hear like a hawk, or a wolf. She could hear heartbeats sometimes, listen through walls, hear a mouse scuttling in a field. 

 "What's wrong?"

 Steve's grip tightened on the steering wheel, "Willow helped you, right?"

 "Yeah."

 "Good."

 "Are you mad because Willow fixed me?"

"Willow's sick."

  Namara took in a sharp breath, ice spreading through her chest. "What?"

 "Willow's sick, has been for a long time. It's getting worse, she's gotten so much worse. My best friend Bucky, they've been together for fifteen years. She saved him too."

 "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing you can do. I shouldn't have told you, don't worry about it," Steve said. He leaned back in his seat, staring out at the road. "She'll be fine. It's probably nothing."

 Namara hoped that was true. She hadn't known Willow for long, but she didn't want the sweet woman to die. But there was nothing she could do. So she stared out the window with those mismatched eyes, those eyes she hated, and watched as trees and mountains blurred by.