When the avengers came to visit, the kids’ reactions could have brightened the building. Those who could get up bounced and hugged them, and those that couldn’t bombarded them with questions. It was always like this when the avengers visited the kid’s area of the hospital - but that didn’t make the experience any less amazing.
A little blonde girl was currently braiding Natasha’s hair, smiling and giggling to herself. Clint was spluttering for his pride after a question, leaving Nat snorting with laughter and the kid giving Clint a sympathetic hug. Wanda was floating a stuffed toy on her red power for multiple kids, Tony was being Tony, Sam was making jokes with two little boys, and Vision was letting the kids walk through him. Even Bucky was there, sitting in a corner with a little girl who was drawing with washable markers on his metal arm.
Delighted gales of laughter and joy wafted from the kids, and Steve’s lips split into a wide grin.
This is what we fight for every day - this happiness.
“Having a good time, old man?” Tony’s voice breaks his train of thought, and Steve casts a side-long glance towards the billionaire. Every motion between the two glints with humor and the fond annoyance that comes from doing all they have together.
After what people had taken to calling the superhero “Civil War”, Tony had gathered up the courage to call Steve and… well, try to work something out. Steve had answered, as he promised he would.
And they talked.
Tony told him that he knew that it wasn’t really Barnes who had killed his parents, though he couldn’t promise that it would be easy to be near the man. He had said that they needed each other, all of the avengers did. And of course, Steve had agreed.
So Team Iron Man had used what influence they had to make some arrangements - made easier by that fact that much of the public had been sympathetic to Cap’s cause. Tony, with a lot of help from Natasha, had even released some files to the courts of Bucky’s time in Hydra - the torture and brainwashing that took place over the years he was held captive and the 20 years it took for him to break. The official avengers gave point after point and reason after reason to explain everything and make sure those who didn’t sign The Accords weren’t put in the wrong. Obviously, these things shed a lot of light on the matter of the ‘rouge avengers’ and, in the end, led to Team Cap coming home.
It had been a rough start, to say the least. Tony had invited them all to stay at the Stark Tower - now the Avengers Tower :) - which they accepted. (Except for Clint, who stayed most of the time, but went home to his family on the weekends, and Scott, who stayed with his family almost all the time.) It was… awkward at first.
Everyone had walked on glass when Tony and Bucky were in the same room, though they pretended they didn’t. Vision and Wanda had kept sharing glances that Steve didn’t need telepathy to know the meaning, Sam had been out most of the days, and Nat had been a bit more silent than usual.
But then Bucky broke the ice by asking Tony to tweak something in his metal arm, Wanda asked Vision out - relieving all of that tension - and Clint, Sam and Nat began cracking jokes or playing little pranks of the rest of the avengers. And it was as back-to-normal as it could be with all that had happened, but with a little more understanding on all sides.
A little, black-haired kid grabbed Tony’s hands, and began determinedly pulling them towards the pile of blocks in the corner.
“We’re gonna make the best tower in the world, Mr. Stark!” The girl announced, giving a challenging and honestly quite adorable little grin.
Tony laughed and flashed Steve a smirk, before sweeping the kid up and running to the blocks. The two of them sat, devising a plan for their “best tower”.
Steve had just started to walk towards one of the kids who was alone when the building shook.
Immediately, the avengers shot to their feet.
The alarms started blaring their high-pitched song.
Nat placed a comforting hand on the shoulder of the girl who had given her a new hairdo, while her eyes scanned the walls, the floor, the ceiling, trying to find the source of the shaking. There was a flash of wild fear in her eyes, but then it was gone.
Bucky planted a sweet kiss on the head of the girl in his arms and thanked her for the drawing before gently setting her down and heading towards Steve, along with the others.
“What the hell was that?”
“I don’t like this…”
Clint and Sam’s voices were somewhat strained - showing what all of us were feeling.
There was no way we were gonna let anything happen to these kids.
“I don’t know.” Steve hardened his resolve. “But we better go find out. Nothing is going to hurt these kids if we can help it.”
Determined nods all around.
Then, just as Steve was going to divide them up to get the job done, the building rocked again.
Cracks spilt and stretched from one side of the roof.
The wall to Steve’s left groaned ominously.
Concrete and chunks of things Steve couldn’t name tumbled from one side.
In the split seconds they had, each avenger dove for the kids, wrapping as many as they could in their arms and shielding them with their own bodies.
Steve curled around his group of kids as one side of the building collapsed, leaving half of it open to the sky- and their attacker.
Floating - no, flying - on a creature of metal and deformed flesh sat a man.
With blond hair and beard, brown eyes, glasses, and casual clothes, the only enemy they’d ever fought that seemed like him had been Zemo - who they hadn’t exactly fought anyway.
Still… Steve recognized that look in his eyes - that same look had been in Loki’s eyes, in Zemo’s, and many other villains - and knew they had to be careful with this one.
Natasha stands, brushing off dust, her poker face firmly in place. “Get behind me,” she tells the kids in an illusion of calm before smirking at the blond man.
The rest of us follow suit, albeit without the smirk.
Surrounding the man were some sort of twisted creatures - like artificial life gone wrong. Metal and warped flesh created some mix between a dog and a dragon, with wings of silver and things similar to the parts of the iron man suit that made it fly - Steve had no idea what they were called. Either way, they looked dangerous, with their dark, menacing eyes.
The man on one of those things stared coldly at us, surveying both avengers and kids. Nothing and no one moved.
Until Clint tried to shoot the guy.
The archer had an arrow nocked and ready in seconds, and set it loose.
As it flew towards the man, he lifted a hand, in a signal of some sort.
A blast of fire incinerated the arrow.
The creature that the flames had come from turned towards the children, an ominous red burning in the back of its open mouth.
Tony, nearest to Clint, shoved the archer’s bow down, not willing to risk the kids. And the red power that had collected in Wanda’s palm faded.
Bucky glanced at Steve, worry and determination swimming between them in their silent, quick conversation.
“This-”
The gazes of the avengers snapped to the villain at the sound of his voice. Sophisticated, but there was a cold resentment beneath that.
The man lifted the corner of his white shirt, revealing a stomach of plated metal, not unlike Bucky’s arm.
Part cyborg then? Steve guessed.
“-Is from an incident with SHIELD. One of their wild, uncalled for investigations led to a crash and a shooting. This was what followed.”
A strand of hatred had begun to creep into the man’s voice at the name of the organization that had fallen shortly after the incident at D.C.
Sam, of course, had to point that out. “S.H.E.L.D.’s gone, man.”
Dark eyes shifted to him. “So it’s on you then.”
Sam threw his hands in the air. “Woah, dude, no. That’s not what I…”
“I don’t care.”
Bucky and Wanda, at those words, pushed the kids, gently but firmly, farther back.
The man motioned again, and tapped at some sort of controls and, rising from it, came two more deformed dog-dragons. It was like he was a scientist experimenting with creating life- and like he figured it out but everything about that life was so fundamentally twisted and wrong.
There were tanks full of greenish liquid on the backs of the creatures that just came into view, and a wicked, icy smile twisted the man’s lips.
“This,” he started, waving towards it with a hand like a student would do with a project they were proud of, “Is a gas of my own creation. It…” He began to go on about science things that Steve knew he had no hope of understanding, but he tried anyway.
It was, as far as Steve could understand, a gas that attacked the systems of the body that are used in fighting. Not the movement part, but the… endorphins and the adrenaline? And the other things that came with the impulse to fight?
So ultimately, fighting = dying.
Steve looked to Tony, trying to figure something out.
Every instinct in Steve recoiled at that. Words, of course, were always the best course of action, but with this guy? That was never going to work. Oh, and along with that, if Steve was hearing correctly, if someone like Vision tried to fight, every part of them was shut down. So there goes that option. But the kids- the sweet, loving kids who were already going through too much...
“I give you ten minutes until I release the gas. You can choose to come with me - and leave the kids to their fates.” On that word, the building shook again.
The whole building’s going down.
“Or die with them.”
A sudden repulsor blast shot at the man - and he fell, though the blue light of some sort of
a shield pulsed around him.
Steve whipped to Tony, “He was going to give us at least a little time.”
“He was giving us options that we can’t pick.” Tony snapped back.
Both Nat, Sam and Vision stepped in:
“We have to make a decision now, then.”
“Cool down, guys. What’s the plan?”
“I believe we need to make a plan quickly.”
Steve and Tony stepped back from each other, and nodded, willing to work together.
“Someone needs to fight.” Bucky's voice, so familiar to Steve, had a resigned tone in it that made all the avengers turn to him with wide eyes. “Someone needs to fight, and the rest need to get the kids out, clear the building, and then, if they can, come back to help.”
Vision, seeing the logic, gave a slow nod, but couldn’t raise his voice to agree to condemn one of his family to what might very well be death.
The rest of them weren’t so quiet.
“I’ll do it, I have the suit, maybe it’ll help.” Tony.
“No, no, there has to be another…” Wanda.
“Buck, not you, I can go, I have the serum..” Steve.
“You guys get the kids. It’s okay. I got this.” Nat.
“I’ll do it, just go.” Clint.
“Dude… I’ll go.” Sam.
They all breathed out for a moment, and their love and fear for each other swam in their gazes.
Because how could they ever… these were their friends, their family. They teased and argued and fought together; they had done everything together, always together. Yes, some days they didn’t think they’d make it out. Some days they fought with only shreds of hope. Some days someone made a split-second decision and made the sacrifice play, but they’d never- how could they ever condemn one of their own.
Steve’s heart was clenching and twisting as if it was trying to tug his thoughts downward, away from this choice, but he spoke, ever the leader. “Vision, Tony, you can fly and get the kids down faster. You’ll be needed with that.” Tony began to protest but Steve stopped him. “Our toppriority is to get the kids out. We need you to do that.”
“I can get my suit too.” Sam put in.
“Good, you’ll be with them, then.” Steve couldn’t even give Sam a small smile.
Sam couldn’t either. None of their humor, their jokes or winks. Just nodding, and grim, hurting determination.
“Steve, you are not putting this on you.” Bucky cut in before Steve could start again and continue with his plan. Bucky knew exactly where this was heading.
“Buck…”
“No, Steve, no. You are one of the best leaders we have, the team needs you. You can carry a lot of kids, too. You are not going to be the one to fight. I can’t…” His voice broke, “You’re not dying on me. On us.”
All of the rest of the avengers nodded.
Nat grabs the hands of the two next to her - Steve and Clint - and squeezed. “He’s right.” She spoke for them all.
“You’re not going either.” Clint said, almost frantically, letting go of her hand to face her. At her raised brow, he continued, “You’re still human, as far as I know, and you don’t have anything to protect you. I’m not saying you couldn’t beat them. Hell, I bet you could. But the chance of that gas killing you is a lot higher than anyone else’s. You’re not doing this.”
A ominous hum was growing from where Tony had blasted the man, and the creatures seemed to be growing restless.
“I can go, maybe I can filter it with my power or-”
“No.” A firm word from both Vision and Bucky.
Wanda looked offended, and immediately Vision tried for reason. He knew she could do it, was strong enough to, but he wasn’t willing to let her take that risk.
“You can hold up the building as it falls, keep the kids safe, lead them out. We need you doing that.”
A low roar started below them.
“Guys…” Clint’s hands tightened on his bow.
“I’m going. The rest of you are needed-”
“Buck-” Steve’s voice was laced in desperation.
“No, I can handle it. I have a serum, even if it’s not as strong as yours. And, I-” He glanced away from Steve, not wanting to bring up his friend's guilt from so long ago, but also needing the logic. “I’m used to pain.”
No one knew what to say to that. It was so true and yet…
Another roar, louder this time, was building up over the first. And then faint, greenish has rose into the air, shrouding the whole building.
Getting the kids out wouldn’t harm the avengers, but it would hurt the one left to fight.
They all glanced at each other, love and fear and frantic thoughts swimming through the air between them, but there was no time to voice it.
There were nurses holding the kids back, whispering to them little, useless comforts while they waited for the avengers to make the decision that could save or kill them.
Bucky didn’t wait. “Just go! You can help me when everyone’s out!” He turned, not giving Steve another chance to argue, and ran towards where their villain was now rising on a bigger creature than before, a look of barely held back rage on the blond guy’s face.
For barely a second, they all looked to Steve, who, with eyes full of anguish, nodded.
And then they were off.
———
Standing on the ground, surrounded by rows and rows of ugly, distorted creatures, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if he would make it out of this one.
Not thinking like that. He chastised himself and shoved the thoughts down, down. Into cracks and crevices in himself where all the other unwanted fears and pains went. I just have to make it till everyone's out of the building. As long as everyone’s safe, it doesn’t matter what happens to me.
So, when the first creature came his way, he smashed its face in with a punch, sending it reeling back.
A breath of pain swept through every part of him with the motion.
He had been expecting it, but that didn’t change the wild, fearful reaction in him to the pain that reminded him of dark chambers, of chains and needles, and equipment strapped to his head.
Tony had lent him a gun, but at this close of range, he didn’t know how well he would be able to use it. So all he could be sure of was a knife and his own body- and maybe not even that.
The creatures converged on him, and his body reacted, the movements so familiar he barely registered it. His knife buried itself to the hilt in flesh. A bullet flew straight through the skull of a farther creature. One from behind, though, barreled into him, shoving him to the ground. Pain from the gas was beginning to make him light headed, but Bucky shoved that into a dark little nook with the rest of it. Still grappling with the creature on top of him, Bucky used the gun to shoot one that had got past him. His hand shook as he did.
Bullet through the eye, it just crawled farther.
What the hell?!
The kids they had been with earlier played across his vision as he struggled. The one braiding Natalia’s hair, the dark haired one making the tower with Tony, the girl - Farrah - who had been drawing on his arm.
So, despite the pain and black spots in his vision, he kept fighting. And, despite his fear and hate of what he had been before Steve had found him again, he let his training kick in. He clawed the walls in his mind that he had placed there, tore parts away of the thing he had prayed to never fall. Let the whispering, the hate, the frozen calm creep by.
And Bucky Barnes let the Winter Soldier out to play.
It lent him a wild, lethal strength he hadn’t possessed before. Cutting through creatures faster, with no filter, no registering the pain because that’s all the world was for the Soldat.
He kept punching, kept kicking, kept fighting.
But a strength, a steadiness that was purely Bucky Barnes lined the Soldier’s movements as it fought. And it knew that as long as the kids got out, the doctors, as long as his newfound family was safe as well, it didn’t matter what hurt.
———
Screw you, Barnes, what have you gotten yourself into?
Sam didn’t know why he cared - the guy had tried to kill him and broke his car, even if he had been brainwashed. But, he did. Sam cared. And no one was going to die today, if he could do anything about that.
So Sam hoisted the smallest two kids on his shoulders, told them to hold onto the back of his suit, and hurried kids down the stairs along with the doctors, down, down, down and out of the back of the building. If push came to shove he would fly them down. Do whatever it took for these children to be safe and more. And he knew the rest of the avengers would too.
When he set a little, red haired girl down, she clung to his hand, looked up at him with big green eyes and said: “Thank you, Mr. Falcon.”
Sam smiled, despite everything, and fist bumped her. “You were very brave. Can I ask one more thing?”
She nods eagerly.
“If you think someone is missing or still in the building call for me or another avenger, okay?”
“Okay!” She turns and hurried after the other children, red hair bouncing. “I will!”
Sam turns back towards the building as it shakes.
———
A whole side of the hospital was crumbling, and so Wanda stood with her hands outstretched. Her red power wrapped about crumbling chunks, holding them in place and allowing any unlucky people caught there to get out.
Hurry, hurry, her mind begged.
It wasn’t just because there was only so long she could hold it, but because someone was running out of time. And then, they all would be too.
The frantic wails of a little boy caught her attention, accentuated by the calls for help of a woman in doctor attire.
Shifting a corner of her attention, Wanda cleared away dust and debris with a sweep of crimson tendrils, until she could see them. The woman was hunched over the boy, as if to protect him with her own body, and the walls and ceiling around them were
collapsing, leaving them nowhere to go.
Bit by bit, Wanda pulled away and rearranged debris, creating a staircase for the two of them. It wasn’t sturdy, but it would have to do.
“Come here, down the stairs.” She called out to them.
Hesitantly, the woman stood, taking hold of the boy's hand.
They started down the ‘stairs’.
Then part of the ceiling creaked.
With her concentration stretched, Wanda had forgotten to pay attention to what was over the pair as well as under.
The child screamed.
Just before it hit them, Wanda’s power caught it but the multitasking was starting to be too much.
“Go!” Her voice had filled with a fervent desperation.
Immediately, the woman swept the boy into her arms and, with what had to be a rush of adrenaline, sprinted down Wanda’s stairs.
When they were safe, Wanda let all of it drop, her head pounding as she turned her attention back to the rest of the building.
I hope they are getting everyone out.
We need to do this quickly.
Hurry everyone, please hurry.
———
Natasha couldn’t help the fear coursing through her. But she could help how she responded to it. She was afraid for Barnes, for the kids, the doctors, the workers, for the avengers, and for herself. If it all went wrong and she couldn’t fight, she wasn’t sure how far her words could get her. But even so, she didn’t let any of that anxiety show. It’s not that she shoved it away, she knew better than that - she’d learned so in the Red Room. She simply morphed the fear into productivity, used the fear to fuel what she needed to do.
And so, as the building crumbled around them, Natasha was herding both children and doctors to the main levels and out and then heading back up, again and again. When chunks fell, she made sure everyone was safe. She was every bit the cool, calculating spy she was trained to be, but she was also every bit an avenger.
We won’t fail. We can’t fail. It was a mantra in her head, pushing her on.
Earlier, while still ushering out children, she and Tony had quickly figured out who exactly was trying to kill them. Matthew Benson. Biological scientist and engineer. An accident with S.H.I.E.L.D left him part cyborg, along with killing his wife and children - which, most likely, was the source of his anger. And these creatures, apparently, were his own creation. But the information, if Natasha was being honest, helped them with nothing.
Presently, a wall collapsed as she hurried by with a kid in her arms, a nurse with them pulling along IV stands with whatever the hell the kid needed. She cared, of course she did, but it was all she could do to keep her pace - as close to a sprint as she could get without hurting the sweet boy in her arms.
The nurse, at their sudden view of the ground four floors down, made a strangled sound of alarm, but didn’t scream. She was used to crisis - crisis in an emergency room or doing surgery, but crisis all the same.
The building rocked, the roars of those mutant things reverberated through the air, and screams and crying were a constant noise in her ears.
At least they're alive to scream. It was a dark thought, but she was too focused on the task at hand, too focused on even just putting one foot in front of the other, to care.
Then, when they reached the second floor, the ceiling started to fall above them.
Sh*t.
The boy buried his face in her neck, brown hair soft against her cheek.
She held him closer, hunching over him to protect him from any debris and called out to the nurse, “Hurry!”
The girl kept pace beside Natasha, even though her fear shone wildly in her eyes.
Natasha kissed the head of the boy in her arms and hurried on, dodging debris to the bets she could and protecting the boy and nurse from it when she couldn’t.
They just had to keep going.
———
Steve couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder. Couldn’t stop glancing backward, straining his advanced hearing, couldn’t stop trying to get a hint on how Bucky was doing.
He had left his best friend, the person who had sat and played games with him when he was little and sick and couldn’t go outside instead of playing with the other boys, the person who didn’t want to go to the war but did his duty anyway, the person who had always had his back in battle when he was reckless, the person who called him out on his flaws but loved him anyway, the person he joked with and had done everything with, the person he had thought he’d lost and after that loss he crashed a plane into the ice, the person who he and had just found, had just started trying to understand and trying to help him find himself after everything.
He’d left him.
Deep down, Steve knows it was the best option, the only choice.
But that doesn’t stop worry from tightening it’s growing vines around his throat as the time stretches.
As he runs into a crumbling room on the one of the last levels they have to clear, he spots a doctor and five children huddled in the sturdiest part of the room. One little girl, with dark hair that reminds him of Bucky’s sisters, of Peggy, of his past that he can’t be thinking about now, looks towards him with wide, awe-filled eyes and points, “You’re Captain America.”
Steve gives her what he hopes is a grin but probably comes out as a grimace, and hurries forward.
“Come one, we have to get you out of here.”
He motions to the doctor, who nods determinedly, gets up, and begins to usher kids out. Steve, letting the doctor lead, trails them, making sure no one’s left behind.
Hurry, hurry, hurry. His mind can’t stop the chant.
As they pass rooms and halls full of this new age’s technology, Steve’s brain flits through and shoves aside wonder and questions faster than he, even with his serum-enhanced brain can really register.
The building creaks and sways, and another wave of green gas through the air makes him cringe. As long as they don’t fight, the gas does nothing to them - but knowing what it can do gives him the urge to hold his breath. He can’t though, he reminds himself with diplomatic words and shoving, straining and hurry, hurry, hurry in his mind, he needs the air to get these children out.
The hallway collapses and Steve uses all he has to shove the children and the doctor out of the way.
A chunk of ceiling hits him and he goes down, though the shield strapped to his back protects him from the brunt of it. He pushed himself up.
Something slams into his shoulder, forcing him down again.
So he crawls.
Forward, forward, forward, one limb in front of the other because the kids need him, his friends need him, Bucky needs him.
Somehow, he makes it out.
Dusty and bruised, but he’s standing now, and he still can’t stop.
———
He smirked at the red-haired woman that hurries out of a crumbling level with a kid in her arms and a young, wide-eyed nurse at her side - Clint knew she’d get them out.
He was just about to start forward when he sees it, and his instincts drilled into him by years of training have one hand already grasping an arrow. The action forced the air from his lungs in a rush - the stupid gas - but he only tightened his grip.
One of those ugly creatures flew straight towards Nat, maw gaping, flame building in its throat.
Fire breathing uglies. Clint can’t help it, even as his brain files through every option, every scenario where he does or doesn’t do anything.
It gets closer, the boy in his best friend’s arms lets loose a scream, and Clint makes his choice.
He fires.
Arrow hitting straight through the eye, exploding seconds after contact.
Bingo.
Natasha, immediately seeing the arrow and taking in what had happened, yells out Clint’s name in fear.
Another breath of the gas-filled air that surrounds him, and Clint stumbles.
Sh*t.
Um… I’m not fighting, I’m not fighting… Clint tries to tell himself that, as stupid as it feels. Tries make his body stop readying for a fight, because in the mode or whatever the hell it’s in is only making everything painful.
He lets go of his bow and it falls at his feet with a thump, close enough to grab if needed, and the pain that was like a lick of fire in his veins subsides.
Nat is at his side in seconds, already having directed the nurse to a safe space for her and the children, and her firm hand grabs Clint’s shoulder.
“You дурак.” There’s an anxious anger in her eyes.
Clint gives a half sarcastic laugh at the name she called him - idiot. “You would’ve done the same.”
She narrows her eyes at him in a glare that would’ve sent even the most experienced criminals running. Behind it, though, he could see the fear and worry in her. He was always the person who could see at least some of what she hid behind her masks.
He took pity on that worry, and told her in as steady a voice as he could muster: “I’ll be fine.”
A doubting look.
But then an agonized cry echoed from the front of the building, and both spies froze.
Bucky.
And, again, Clint knew immediately what he had to do.
The guy he couldn’t help but think of as his “Sniper Bro”, along with being Captain America’s best friend, needed help. Clint had already ‘activated’ (if that was even the right word, he had no idea) the gas in his system. It would probably continue its work, albeit more slowly if he didn’t fight. But he had to do something.
“Clint…” Natasha’s voice forced him to meet her deep green eyes that seemed to battle with what to say. Don’t you dare, be careful, help him, don’t get hurt, let me do it, fought with fury in her gaze, but he didn’t give her a chance to say any of it.
He just said, “Get everyone out.”
And began to sprint toward where Bucky fought the hoards of creatures, somehow keeping the majority of them at the front of the building.
Amidst the deformed creatures of gray-pink flesh and sizzling flames, the man caught Clint’s eye, using his metal arm to land a bone-crunching punch on one of the creatures. Blue gray eyes flashed with something like relief, followed by a wave of guilt and an emotion he couldn’t name. The pain, though, that part was clear. Clint knew they’d have that at least in common in just a few moments.
But Clint simply nodded to him and proceeded to find a spot where he could pick off the creatures with his arrows.
Their fight began to go by in somewhat of a blur after that. Clint found his next target, twinge of pain, loosed an arrow, gritted his teeth, blinked his vision clear of black and found another target.
This time, though, when his hand went back, he found himself completely out of arrows.
He reached back again, wondering if the gas was making him hallucinate.
Nope. He’d run out of arrows.
I swear I didn’t use them all. They shouldn’t be gone this fast.
But maybe that was just him not paying enough attention.
Below, Clint strains to see past the black in his vision to watch Bucky stumble. His frantic thoughts tried to break through the haze as the man below was immediately tackled by one of the creatures.
The villain hovering on one of those creatures - Benson, Nat had said - was grinning with wicked delight, but his expression suddenly morphs to shock then fury. Clint, as fast as he can through the fog of pain to see Bucky struggling with the creature on the ground. But his flesh hand is free- and sticking up a certain finger defiantly.
That snaps Clint out of the pain, and he, changing his hold on his bow to use it as a staff, races from his spot towards Bucky.
He lets his training kick in and beats the hell out of the creature - pain coursing through him, but he uses it to fuel his blows - and the other ones pause to watch him and Bucky with hungry eyes.
When the creature is dead, Clint turns to Bucky, who is pushing himself off the ground. The man’s flesh arm is pressed tightly to his ribs, where crimson trickles out, and he’s swaying in his feet. But he’s standing, and that’s enough to be grateful for.
“Thanks.” Bucky grunts out, and Clint nods, not having enough breath to give a worded answer.
Then the two of them sink into the stances trained into them, and begin to fight together, watching each other’s backs. Clint, in the back of his mind, has to admit that Bucky’s saved him in the time they’d been fighting more than Clint had for him, but he swore to himself that he would never admit it when they got out of this. If they get out of this.
Don’t you dare think that way. Natasha’s voice in his head. Echoed by Wanda’s, Steve’s, Sam’s, Tony’s, Vision’s, and even Bucky’s. Echoed by his parents’ voices, his brother’s, Nick Fury’s, his mentors’ over the years, and voices he couldn’t name.
His mind was messing with him, he knew that, and yet he couldn’t help but take strength from it.
And he kept fighting.
———
They had gotten everyone out. The children, the nurses, the doctors. The building was demolished, but everyone was safe and accounted for.
Now, all they had to do was get Matthew Benson into custody, destroy his creatures without dying, and save Clint and Barnes - and yes, Tony knew it was stupid to still be on a last name basis with the man, but with everything that had happened, he just wasn’t ready.
Along with that, Tony still had no idea how the gas worked. Yeah, he hadn’t been able to study it, but he should still have at least an idea.
He shook his head.
Let’s just take down this guy first and save Legolas and our second fossil.
Yes, “our”. As much as Tony held a grudge for what he had done, Barnes was part of the avengers now.
So, Tony turned to said team and, with their help, figured out a plan.
“Alright, guys, lets go.” Tony, the rest of them on his tail, sped to the front of the building.
The sight there filled Tony with something that never ended well when it came to following plans: red, burning rage.
Attempting to hold off the twenty or so creatures still alive, the two avengers below are fighting with practiced efficiency - but both Tony and the rest of the avengers can see that their friends are struggling. Clint sways on his feet as he wields his bow as a staff. Barnes knocks one down, only to fall to his knees and struggle to rise.
Their pain, their struggle, even if I wants to hate Barnes’s guts, I just can’t-
F*ck.
“You know what? Screw this.”
Tony doesn’t wait for the reactions or consent of the other avengers, though he can’t say he thinks Steve would stop him by the anguished look on the man’s face.
So he blows the plan.
The Ironman suit files over his profile and immediately - oh yeah, because I’m stupidly planning to fight when I have no idea what it’ll do to me - he grunts.
“Barton! Barnes! Get back!” Natasha calls out, because - yep, I forgot to warn them.
A missile fired from the back of the suit - straight at Benson’s creatures.
Boom. Deadly, mutant creatures gone? Check.
Breathless, Tony lets the suit disappear into the arc reactor once more.
Vision, nodding towards Tony, flies to where Benson still hovers on his last creature, a look of pure shock on his face. Before the man can pull a gun, Vision’s on him, cuffing the man’s hands, killing the creature with a blaze from the stone in his forehead, and heading with Benson towards the police who had just arrived.
Back on the ground, Clint had, it seems, immediately plopped down onto the ground, out of breath and still in pain, but alive. Steve was hurrying towards Bucky - nope, not ready for that, it’s Barnes - who was standing shakily with a half smile on his face. That man’s eyes met Tony’s, blue-gray to Tony’s brown, and flash with both wry humor and gratefulness that both dare and welcome him to join him and the rest of the avengers.
So Tony does.