Phil looked at the woman across from him, on the small bus. He didn't even know her name, yet he knew about her, he knew enough. Just the sight of her was enough to make him upset. He didn't need to take the bus anymore, he just felt he needed to keep an eye on her.
She looked up, and tossed him a fake grin, as she let her long coat loosen a bit, and Phil silently shook his head. He wasn't that type of person.
As the bus stopped, he saw it was his stop. As he got up, he realised she'd already began walking off the dark blue bus. He grinned a small grin, and watched her walk away before he headed the opposite way.
That was how their days usually went by.
He learned her name, a few days later, though. Beautiful name, for a girl like her. He got off the bus with her, as they usually did. But this time, he continued her way. He doubted she knew, but he kept no secret of it. She stopped on a corner, by a cheap apartment on the first floor, and sat down while she stared at the road.
She took a small pack out of her long coat's pocket. Phil saw a glimpse of white before her long hair covered his view.
A car stopped by, and Phil saw the man. He didn't know why, but he recognized him. That made his explainable, yet not, rage become even worse. He barely even knew the girl. But that didn't mean he didn't care.
She got up from her seat on the bus. She didn't make any interaction with Phil on this ride, which was very unusual. He'd gotten over his anger at the man. He knew what she was to begin with. She'd even offered him. But he said no, always. Her coat had changed from the night he followed her. Thicker, and more to keep the common rain, and snow away. It was getting cold lately, and the weather was bad. Phil knew his stop changed to later in the ride, but he got off the bus anyway, to follow her. It went on pretty much the same way as before, except before some trash could stop to pick her up, he walked up.
He kneeled next to her, and offered her his hand. He reached into his pocket, and payed her one hundred dollars, to talk to him. That was it, just talk.
He didn't know that offer, would change his life the way it did.
They stayed up late in her apartment, she'd shrugged off her wet raincoat, and old gloves, and threw them across the room to a laundry basket. The coat made it half-way in, and the gloves didn't even touch the basket, but she didn't care.
She sat across from him on her couch, and they spent hours talking about their interests, mainly hers. He wanted to know the girl, behind the screwed up life. He saw how worn out the drugs, and job made her look.
He wanted to change this. Everyone deserved a second chance.

They fell asleep on the couch, and Phil woke up to her, crouched over, with a pipe, he closed his eyes, eye brows furrowed as he allowed his head to fall back onto the couch.
He knew she wouldn't quit, just because he'd thought about it last night, and they spent the night talking like they did, but he hoped she would at least wait until he didn't know.
He pretended to sleep, for however long it took, until he felt her get up off the couch. He slowly opened his eyes, and let out a loud yawn, before getting up, and looking around for her.
He looked down the hall, and saw her putting on her high-heeled boots.
He looked back behind him, and saw the pipe on the table.
After shouting a quick goodbye, he left upset, but decided to let it go. It was what she did. It was addictive. He looked behind him as he heard the door opening. She crossed her arms, and let a foggy breath out as she noticed it was snowing today.
The white, that she saw daily, but more pure.
Phil saw a small tear fall down her cheek, and felt the sudden urge to comfort her, but she walked inside, deciding not to go outside today.
He knew that if they didn't work it out soon, it would end badly, but the thought made him sad. So he stopped thinking of it today, and went to find Fury.

It had been a year since that day, and they had been close to getting her completely away from the drugs. She'd decided she was finished with her job.
They were great friends, and knew everything about each other. And Phil was supporting her, until she could find a decent job.
Phil went back to her place, one day, after the Avengers got together. He knocked on her door. He knew he didn't have to knock anymore, and that she thought of him as a very close brother, now a days, but he did it anyway, and she usually came to the door immediately. That was what bothered him at first, but he shrugged it off, and sat on the steps, watching as the small snowflakes fell. It was mid Winter. The color always reminded him of his Angel, and her problems. He'd come to hate the snow, in a way, but then love it all at the same time.
She called it their weather.
He grinned, and held his hand out as memories of them popped up in his head.
Her face, it was looking terrible lately. He blamed it on the drugs, as it obviously was their fault. But he thought she would get better, health, at least.
He looked back to the door, and became upset. Why wasn't she opening the door?
He knocked once again, before slamming his way through the door.
It fell, and he noticed the door had been unlocked. Could have gone through without having a bit of pain in his shoulder, but oh well.
He called her name, as he rushed through the house, and saw her bathroom door closed. It stood out, because it was always open, same with every door except the front one.
He tried turning the knob, and rolled his eyes angrily when he noticed it was locked. He burst through the door once again, to find her laying in the bathttub.
He refused to except it.
And when he heard a weak voice say his name, he rushed over. He carried her out, and to her bed. He layed her down, and lied down next to her. He grabbed her hand, and discovered it was the drugs. As he felt tears rising, he tried to push them back. An overdose, after all this time. He'd came right in time to be there with her.
Her final moments, he didn't want her to see him cry, so he tried his hardest not to.
And, he choked out her favorite story. She'd heard it probably a million times, and it was one of the most stupid stories Phil had ever heard, but he told it to her, and held her hand through this. Halfway through the short story, he felt her hand go limp in his. He looked and saw her eyes were closed.
He let the tears fall freely now, and wiped away a bit of the devil's powder, that was on his dead little angel's terrible looking face.
A few days later, as he was still mourning, he was called in once again to meet the Avengers. Nobody knew of his angel, let alone her death, and he wouldn't let them. He decided a long time ago, he would always be his happy self around them.
That afternoon though, as everyone was panicking, he went to the rescue. Loki had gotten out.
And, Loki had made it possible for Phil to be with his Angel, once again.

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