Ross says something, and she wants to react to whatever order he's giving her, to be the quickest, the best, the most efficient. Everything he's counted on her to be, since he made her his right hand. All that comes out is a strangled, wheezing whimper that she can't even hear herself make.

She's so sorry she'd disappointed him. She's so sorry she won't get a chance to make it up to him. She's so sorry she's going to wind up disobeying him, again, two seconds after he reinstated her.

But worst of all is Bucky, who sounds desperate and broken, his voice rough with anguish. His shadow falls over her, blocking what little she can see of the wrecked room. She badly wants to hold his hand, but she can't move her fingers and everything seems to be shutting down in a horrible, final sort of way. Her thoughts are dust, her head full of a hollow, rushing sound, and it takes more than she has left to try and form anything comprehensible. She's simply filled with a deep and terrible sadness at the thought of leaving him, and even that is getting fuzzy around the edges as her vision begins to tunnel.