Issac forced himself to stand straight, tightening the grip on the knife in his hand. He wondered if the scrawny kid was the boss, if it was the big man who was cracking his knuckles, ready to beat him to a pulp, or if they were both working for someone bigger. He didn't need to find out. He suddenly lunged at the man, slashing in several directions with his knife. The man easily blocked the attacks, throwing heavy and ruthless punches that would definitely leave more than a mark if they collided with Issac. Thankfully, he was smaller and faster, able to duck and bend away from his large fists easily. He used his weight against him, harshly kicking the side of his knee and giving him a light shove to send him to the ground, relishing in the sound his skull made as it collided with the metal dumpster. He then turned his attention to the boy, whatever confidence he had earlier faded as he began trying to shakily reload again, having missed all sixteen shots that his gun held.
Issac couldn't waste any more time. His eyes shifted to purple and suddenly the boy stopped, his own blue eyes matching Issac's color as he pointed the gun downwards and fired a bullet directly into his foot. He kept the boy under his control as he quickly slipped out of the alleyway, waiting until he was far enough to finally let go. He heard the boy cry out in pain in the distance, breaking out into a run knowing that people would soon be moving to investigate.
He finally slowed when he was far enough, moving to take a brief glance around as he continued walking. He needed to figure out how to get back to the safehouse from here, genuinely having no idea where he was. And then he needed to pack his shit, and leave, fast, before whoever was after him could send more people to try and kill him. Looking back on it, he should have knocked the boy out as well and taken his gun, but it was too late to turn back and do so now.
Issac should have looked both ways before crossing the street, really he should have. Then again, it may not have done anything to prevent the car hurtling down the road at 40 miles an hour, especially since it seemed as though the driver was actually trying to run him over. He landed on the ground hard, momentarily stunned by the pain. He could barely register the sound of tires screeching to a halt followed by the door opening as the driver quickly climbed out of the car. He remained still, feeling the toe of a boot poke at his ribs to see if he was still alive. He resisted the urge to cough, waiting to see what the person would do when he heard them begin to walk away. He was under the impression they were just going to leave his body there before he heard the sound of the trunk open, followed by the rustling of a large bag.
As the footsteps began to grow closer, he conjured energy in the palm of his hand, waiting until they grabbed him to turn him over to blast whoever had decided to run him over. They flew into the display window of a nearby clothing store, shattering the glass on impact and colliding with several shelves and mannequins that were on display.
He closed his eyes and groaned, forcing himself to his feet. He felt guilty for a moment before pushing it away, stumbling towards the car. The front was seriously dented, but the windshield was surprisingly intact, which was all he needed. His ankle throbbed with each step, he sure as hell wouldn't be able to hobble all the way back to the apartment and still fight off people in this state. He took one last glance at the destroyed display window, seeing no movement come from the previous driver before starting the car once again and pulling back onto the street. He ignored the looks from pedestrians and other nearby drivers as he broke the speed limit, running red lights and stops signs as well. He managed to return to the apartment building after an impressive fifteen minute drive, resigning himself to his fate and taking the elevator up to his floor. Taking that many flights of stairs would be suicide.
He more or less fell into the apartment, shutting the door quickly behind him before leaning against the wood, taking a moment to breathe. Thankfully, nobody followed him back to the building, but it would only be a matter of time before they found him here. The last thing he wanted to do was put Yelena in danger.
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Over The Edge. | Steve Rogers.
Fanfiction"if I told you about darkness inside me, would you still look at me like I'm the sun?" "always." "then you're an idiot, Steve." sequel to On The Edge.
