Marvel Oneshots (X Reader)

Avengers - Fading

You had never been more glad to get inside the Quinjet. The last of the adrenaline buzz from the fighting had just about worn off. Exhaustion weighed in every inch of your body in a way that made your limbs feel unbelievably heavy. Plopping down in one of the seats, you watched as the other avengers boarded the aircraft. They seemed tired as well, except for Thor and Banner—but those two rarely broke a sweat even after fighting over at least two hundred aliens, as you'd witnessed in New York. Although, that was because the Hulk technically fought for Banner and, well, Thor was a god.

"After this, it's drinks on me!" Stark yelled gleefully as he strode over to the pilot seat.

Lifting your eyes to look at where he stood in the front of the Quinjet was unbelievably hard for such a simple task. Your vision was blurring and clearing periodically, in a way that left you disorientated and drowsy. Then there was the moments where it felt like the world was spinning. And unless Stark was flying the Quinjet in flips, which you were sure the others would notice, there was something that was severely wrong.

"Drinks on you? Well in that case I might order that five thousand dollar red wine," Clint joked as he appraised his leftover arrows.

Breathing was once so easy, but now every breath was a difficult challenge. How were you meant to breath normally again? Why was it so hard to draw a deep breath? It was probably just the confined spaces. That, or you were paying too much attention to your breathing. That happened sometimes, like you had switched it from automatic to manual mode.

Stark pointed a finger at Barton menacingly which the archer replied to by sticking his tongue out.

Was your shirt wet? It felt like it was. In fact, your whole chest felt wet. It was probably sweat. The fighting had been pretty intense today, and the weather was unbelievably hot. It was like you were burning up. So why did you have a jacket on? You wanted to remove it, but when you touched your shirt your hand came away red.

"Red wine?" Thor's voice boomed. "Nonsense. We drink mead tonight, like true warriors!"

Was that blood? Maybe you were hallucinating. You hadn't been shot or hurt today—you would have noticed if you had been. There was no pain to suggest an injury. Maybe you should tell the others, just in case. Wait, were your hands shaking? They were so heavy.

"I change my announcement. Drinks on me for everyone but the Katniss Everdeen ripoff." Stark amended.

A nap sounded nice. Just a quick one. Long enough to reach the Avengers tower. Stark was paying, and you didn't want to miss out on that opportunity. For a billionaire, he sure could be stingy with his money.

"Hey!" Clint jabbed back, his arrows forgotten as he glared at Stark. "I'm better than Katniss. And aren't you a billionaire? Five thousand is nothing compared to that."

Maybe you would buy the bottle of red for Barton. Or maybe you would buy a cheap one instead and pretend it was the five thousand dollar one.

"You don't even drink red wine," Nat stated.

The colours were gone and your sight was filled with darkness. You had closed your eyes. When did that happen?

"Maybe I want to try something new. I know your favourite is red. We could share."

Was that Tony speaking? Or was that Thor? What did their voices sound like again?

"What do you think, Rogers, Banner? Should we..."

You were freezing cold now. Hadn't you been unbearably hot just before?

"...can you...open your—holy shi-"

You could hear your name. Who was calling your name?

"Have to...bleeding out...stay with me..."

"...how...Stark—"

"...I'm trying...Jarvis?"

"Heart rate...rapidly...losing...."

You were tired—so, so tired.

"...don't..."

"...go..."