Steve's up and fighting. The noise of it sends a jolt of urgency through her, and she groans softly as she rolls forward onto hands and knees, shaking her head to clear it. The whole world seems to spin around her, and then slides into slow focus: the crushed remains of the sink and counter; the body slumped against the partition wall; Steve in the dining room with the second intruder; the gun on the kitchen floor, dropped by the first man Steve took out.

Olivia clenches her jaw against the wave of nausea that rises as she moves and dives for the gun. Once it's in her hands she rises to her knees, teeth gritted, all of her focus on one thing, aiming steady and giving Steve just one moment to press the advantage.

"Steve, get d-"

She missed the man in the living room. The dart hits her in the neck, and the gun drops almost immediately from nerveless fingers. She starts to fall, catches herself with one hand braced against the floor before she crumples entirely, but the room's going dark already.