She knew time was running out. Thirty five seconds. That was all they had left, give or take, and with every number it ticked down by, the harder she found it to keep still. She didn’t know how the others could manage it, just standing there, waiting behind the hood of the car, when Isobel was still inside, at serious risk of leaving behind nothing of herself to bury if the trust she'd been forced to put in Vargas fell through. The thought made Maggie sick to her stomach, dizzied with worry, like she was the one standing beside a live bomb, and even though it was antithetical, she could only wish that was the case.
After all, she'd never wanted to leave Isobel there in the first place, and while she knew the others had felt the same, Maggie doubted they could regret going through with it more than she did, Isobel's fear burned permanently into her mind. She'd never seen her look so scared before, even as she'd tried to hide it, her voice trembling with every word, tears building in her eyes like she already knew she'd never see them again, and still Maggie had abandoned her. She'd let herself be herded blindly outside to safety with everyone else, so stricken that she'd lacked the wherewithal to protest Isobel's command when she should've. Now, it was too late.
Thirty seconds. She felt like someone had her lungs in a vice, winding the jaws tighter until she could barely breathe. Her every cell was alight with panic, concern so strong that it was rewriting the little self-preservation she possessed, quickly erasing any instinct still keeping her at bay. Maggie stepped forward, then stopped, her entire being at war with itself, urging her both to run and stay put, to save Isobel and save herself.
Twenty five seconds. She turned on her heel, reluctantly taking back the movement, devastated eyes meeting OA’s, worried in the warning look they gave her. Don’t do anything stupid, they said, as though reading her mind, but it was already too late for that, and Maggie had never been the best at listening to him, looking back towards the building. The waiting was killing her slowly, and she couldn’t do it; she couldn’t just stay back and let this happen. She couldn't just do nothing.
Twenty seconds. If she stayed still for a moment longer, something in her was going to break; her bones were going to snap under the pressure, her muscles pull themselves apart, her veins close up on each other. With zero looming closer like a reaper, skeletal hand reaching for her just as much as it was Isobel, she couldn’t stop herself from running, and so at fifteen seconds, she ran like her life depended on it because she couldn't keep pretending that it didn't.
Immediately, OA’s voice called after her, ripping through the air, shattering the eerie silence that had been hanging over them, anticipating the end. “Maggie!” Somewhere under all the panic and desperation that drove her, she felt guilty, but the feeling was nowhere close to being enough to stop her as she raced back towards the building she shouldn't have left to begin with. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve, but success now only amounted to trying, even if she never so much as made it, and her heart impelled her without pause, having just as much to lose, cracking every rib and drowning her in adrenaline.
She was almost a third of the way there when one of the glass doors suddenly flew open; when the entire reason she was willingly rushing towards certain danger emerged from the building. Isobel’s feet collided bare against the concrete as she ran breathlessly for her life, heels abandoned at the impending epicenter she'd been stood in, only good for slowing her down when she couldn’t afford it. For a beat on the depleting timer, Maggie forgot how to breathe at the sight of her, and then she strained to move faster than she ever had before, knowing they had only seconds, just not how many. She'd forgotten to keep count, losing track of the number somewhere in the desperate thump of her boots hitting the ground.
Less than ten, panic told her, but whether it was three or seven, the number was dropping quickly, and yet the distance between them seemed insurmountable even as they hurried to close it. In the midst of the inevitable, their wide eyes met for what they both knew could be the last time, confusion joining the terror on Isobel’s face, and Maggie's head was too much of a mess for her to work out if she would make it far enough for survival to be likely, let alone guaranteed. Tears burned in her eyes as she cursed herself for not moving sooner, for wasting time there hadn’t been, and a split second later, as if they hadn't been expecting it, the bomb they were running in opposite directions of finally detonated.
The building’s glass exterior shattered in a deafening blast behind Isobel, the force throwing them off their feet and out of each other’s sight. Maggie crashed back into the concrete, the air knocked violently out of her lungs, neck cracking with whiplash, spine bruised. She grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut, knowing the pain would be almost intolerable if not for the adrenaline already coursing through her blood, the copper taste of it nauseating on her tongue. She blinked the sky into view, cloudy blue swimming hazily above her, and immediately, maybe unwisely, rolled onto her side, struggling to sit up. Her chest was tight, aching like someone had slammed a bat into it, and in the settling dust, she could faintly hear voices, but the persistent ringing in her ears refused to let it come through clear.
Maggie braced a hand against her head, pounding from the impact, fingers brushing the blood congealing in her hair, squinting slightly as she looked towards the destination she’d never reached. There was a gaping cavity in what remained of 26 Fed’s entrance, but it wasn’t quite done falling, debris still tumbling loose from the floors above the foyer, ripped open and exposed by the explosion. Maggie could only stare in dismay, torn eyes following the devastation lower, to the mountains of masonry, of plaster and concrete, the crater in the floor she’d spent years walking across, the splintered glass coating the ground outside, and-
Maggie scrambled to her feet, ignoring the way the world spun in protest, how she stumbled and almost careened right back down to her knees. The shrapnel that had been launched far enough to reach her hadn’t done much harm, impeded by her coat, only tearing at fabric, but suddenly it felt like glass shards and wooden splinters were buried in her chest, twisting in the gaps between her ribs. In the distance, just ahead of where Maggie had seen her last, Isobel lay motionless, face-down in the same rubble that pinned her, the only other visible victim of the bomb’s wrath, and Maggie staggered hurriedly in her direction, silently pleading that the worst hadn’t come to pass.
She dropped at Isobel’s side no sooner than she reached her, too little, too late, eyes wide with dread as they surveyed the damage. Ash clung to her short hair, hardening with blood at the deep gash in her head, and the back of her blazer was torn between her shoulder blades, ripped open by glass that at least hadn’t been enough to reach further through the shirt beneath it. Maggie’s breath wavered, cut hand shaking as she reached out to brush Isobel’s hair behind her ear, uncovering the rest of her face, streaks of blood stark against her skin, and bile burned at the back of her throat as she forced herself to feel for a pulse. Time ticked agonizingly by as nothing happened, and she pressed her fingers harder, desperate, against the underside of Isobel’s jaw until she was finally met with a feeble thump that sent relief rushing over her.
She blinked back tears, shoulders slumping as she drew her hand back, deliberating what to do next while her gaze wandered aimlessly along Isobel’s arm. It was clear she’d tried to break her fall with them when the blast had thrown her forward, one resting beneath her head, as though she’d fallen asleep on it, the other slightly outstretched. Her hand was still cradling her broken phone, where she’d been waiting for Vargas’s message, blood trailing down her fingertips and gathering in the fresh cracks in the screen. Maggie had to wonder if he’d actually sent Isobel a code at all, or if he’d given her a fake one instead, intended to taunt her further when she entered it and the countdown simply continued.
Either way, she was going to make him wish he’d never so much as considered setting foot in New York, and she turned her anger at him to the debris trapping Isobel in place, channeling it into something that could help. Her energy was quickly fading, adrenaline wearing off and unleashing upon her the pain it had been holding back, but she didn’t let either stop her, fighting every protesting muscle, every aching bone, every stinging wound as she grasped at whatever she could reach. Fragments of stone clattered to the ground, falling loose as she frantically pulled away plaster and masonry, clearing a path to the support beam hiding underneath, the real obstacle between her and freeing who she should've tried harder to save, even if it had meant trading places with her.
Maggie had already uncovered it when she heard sirens in the air, nails and their beds caked with dirt, marks grooved into her palms, and she looked up, pausing in her endeavor. For a brief moment, she questioned what had taken them so long, but then she realized that what had felt like eternity to her had likely only been minutes for everyone else, and she turned her head at the growing sound of hurried footsteps. In all the turmoil, she’d forgotten that she wasn’t the only one nearby, almost surprised to see OA and the others rushing towards her, wearing the dust of the aftermath but unharmed as far as she could tell, and in light of their arrival, her body discerned without her that it didn’t need to fight anymore.
Fatigue was already beckoning when OA reached her side just seconds later, falling to his knees, worriedly looking her over as Jubal and Scola picked up where she’d left off, one of them on either side of the wooden beam. “It’s alright,” OA assured gently, taking in her disheveled appearance before his eyes flickered to Isobel, undeniably worse off. “We’ve got her, okay?” Maggie nodded wordlessly, but even that was a struggle, her body urging her to give into exhaustion.
She felt like she'd been up for days, her eyelids weighing heavy, and no matter how much she tried to keep them open, bloodied hand inching across the concrete towards Isobel's, she ultimately couldn't manage it. They fell shut against her will before she could stop them, as all the fear, all the panic and all the shock, finally caught up with her at once, and before OA could say another word, Maggie suddenly slumped forward into his arms, passed out cold, forefinger curled loosely around Isobel's in a final silent hope that she'd make it.