Whatever It Takes

1.5

I look up at her and she meets my gaze. "Pochti desyatiletiya, a ty ne khotel menya nayti?"

I'm not sure what persuades me to say it. It comes out of my mouth without me recognizing I have been in pain by her abandonment. My years of hiding in Sokovia and Novi Grad were to get me off the grid. It was crucial for me to remain elusive from the KGB. But Natasha had become a mighty Avenger within that time. She has a team and resources and people from the government at her disposal. Couldn't she have gotten me out? Couldn't she have tried to get me back?

At my words, her grip on me tightens even more, face softening at the look in my eyes. She knows she's hurt me. She knows there's been too much time between us. She knows she's failed me.

"Sloane," she starts, but I don't let her finish.

I pull my hand out of her grasp, snatching the gun strapped to her thigh and pointing it toward the end of the hall, firing just over the archer's shoulder and embedding bullets into the bot that rises in front of him, not giving him enough time to retrieve an arrow. It drops from where it floats, and the archer looks down the hall at me, amused.

"Aren't you the bad guy?" he calls.

"Aren't you?" I smirk, and the corner of his mouth turns up. "I owe you a favor."

"For what?"

"Not killing this one," I say, tilting my head at Natasha, who gives me a curious look.

At his expression, I can tell he understands what I mean. Both of us are brought back to that night in Budapest, when we met at the street and I pleaded with him not to shoot.

He gives me a nod, and the gunshots and gnashing of metal from below make me advance on him. He stiffens a bit as I draw near, but I simply look over the edge, seeing Pietro's blur get pulled off the second level into a mess of crates when he snags the god's hammer out of the air. The Captain then approaches him when he tries to get up and shoves him back into the crates.

Ultron and Stark throw each other into the walls of the fragile ship, denting and making holes, until Stark pushes Ultron out of the roof, the two metal men fleeing into the air to give chase.

I catch Wanda slinking back near the vibranium, a bot tuned into Ultron whispering her orders. Then she slips away down the stairs, her magic unfurling along her fingers.

I step away from the archer, making my way along the catwalk around the ship, following Wanda from above as she falls into the shadow of the god, expelling her magic into his head. A few henchmen come into view and I put them down, throwing them over the rails. Below, Pietro knocks the Captain into a pile of pipes, Wanda emerging from behind them and flicking a swirl of scarlet into his temple, making him wince.

She disappears into the shadows once more and I lose sight of her, searching along for her until I catch the flash of red across from me. Natasha stands stiffly in the hall as Wanda twists her wrists and bends her fingers, sending darkness into her mind.

"No!" I bite, voice hushed because I don't want to reveal her position to anyone, yet hoping she hears me. And she does.

She glances up as she slips back against the wall, seeing my face and my feared expression. She slumps lower, looking at me with apologetic eyes. She creeps up behind the archer, who has resumed his fire on bots and henchmen down below. But just as Wanda slinks up from behind, hands raised to woo him, he pulls an arrow from his quiver and embeds it into her forehead.

For a moment, I think he's killed her. But an electrical impulse shoots through her body and I realize it's a unique arrow, not one with a pointed head. I dart forward but he quickly raises his bow with an arrow knocked, aiming at me. I freeze, fists clenching and jaw grinding.