Old Soul (Captain America/Steve Rogers)

26

<Avalie's Pov>

I sigh in stress, ringing out the cloth before returning it to Steve's forehead. Then I resume my duties as putting pressure to Natasha's still-bleeding-wound. I had stitched Steve up once he stopped bleeding, I trick I picked up on with the help of my sewing sessions with my mom as a child.

I was starting to worry. They were both still unconscious, Natasha as bleeding too much for me to stitch it up, and it's been at least 20 minutes since we unleashed the Hulk and I still heard gunfire.

Having been captivated while they created the attack, I desperately hoped that they prepared a plan C.

I was rinsing the blood out of Natasha's rag when I heard footsteps behind me, my hands dropping the cloth and reached for my gun.

"Relax, its just me," Clint says, marching up the ramp and coming over to where we were. "How is she?"

He bent down next to me, his brows stitched together in fear and concern. I pursed my lips, not knowing whether I should tell him the good news or the bad news.

When I didn't reply, he glanced over at me, and seeing my indecisive expression his face fell. "Oh," he says, the singular most depressing and sorrowful thing I've ever heard.

He strokes his thumb-covered in soot and ash-across her forehead mournfully, making a streak of dirt on her forehead. I looked down at the two, wondering what lied in their past together.

"We need to get back to headquarters," Clint says, standing after a long, solemn moment.

My eyes widen in surprise. "We can't just leave! And Banner is out there, we will gain the upper hand soon."

"Not if they keep calling in reinforcements," Clint says. "And he's not going to last for long."

I furrow my eyebrows at him. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Clint says, his voice raising in anger. "Look at them! Natasha, Steve-she's getting into our heads, and it's not going to be long before she tears us apart."

I sigh in defeat, not knowing how to respond to that. He was right-the shapeshifter was going to ruin us, and I didn't need to travel ahead to know that.

"Don't you guys have a plan C?" I ask desperately.

Clint shakes his head before correcting himself. "Well, it was just an idea we toyed around with. Not that it would work..."

"What is it?" I press, at least wanting to know if we could make it work.

"Er, well," he says, scratching the back of his neck. "Not long ago a humanoid was made, he fought next to us in battle and he was pretty powerful. After the battle he left saying he wanted to explore the world in his new life. We wouldn't even know how to contact him."

I raise my eyebrows, glad that we have something. "We can try, can't we?"

Clint looks down at me for a moment while thinking, chewing the inside of his cheek. I knew what he saw-a girl who had no experience in these types of situation and no insight. But she did have hope, and I think that's what reached out to him the most.

"Yes," Clint says, a small smile on his face. "Yes we can."

•••

<Narrator's Pov>

Wanda was defending floors on her own, using her power to wipe out dozens of attackers.

She didn't find herself having any problems. She had practiced her powers and trained for long enough, and she was starting to see all of it pay off.