"Kristina, please, don't do this," I plead, my voice cracking as the flames licked my skin. My old friend, the one I cared about, didn't even know who I was. Her lifeless eyes stared at me. I couldn't do anything. I didn't want to do anything. "It's me! Bucky!" I yell, grabbing the frail metal bars that offered no support. Everything was going to go down in a minute, and she couldn't be caught in the heart of it. Then, Kristina spoke the five words I wish I didn't ever have to hear.
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
18 hours earlier
"This deserves a drink," Stark exclaimed, grabbing a Jack Daniel's bottle from Kristina's counter as we all sat at her kitchen table.
"We didn't save Kristina," Brent mumbled as Stark started pouring the alcohol into a glass.
"And we will save her, just not right now, because we obviously need a plan. Or we can wing it, that always works."