Get Back Up » Quicksilver

chapter eight

08 x catastrophic encounters

>>

"Steve?" I asked, shifting over beside Pietro and in front of Evangeline. 

"Yes?" they both answered at once, looking toward me, before facing each other and giving the same hard, annoyed look. 

"I'm Steve," plainclothes Steve insisted first, stepping up toward us and looking between Pietro and I with a look of concern in his eyes, before jabbing a finger toward the other guy. "This one's an imposter."

Captain America Steve scoffed, glaring at plainclothes Steve. "Yeah, right, like I'm falling for this again. I bet you're just wearing a face mask. Y'know SHIELD has those?" he asked, looking over to Pietro and I for encouragement. "This guy's a fake. And a pathetic one, if you ask me."

"This'd be easier if one of 'em had come in with the shield," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for Pietro to hear. 

"Would it, though?" Pietro asked quietly in return, not looking down at me.

When we actually turned our attention back to the two Steves in front of us, they had resorted to a "I'm Steve," off, each looking like they were going to take a swing at the other any minute now. If it wasn't so confusing, it'd be kind of funny.

But it was mostly terrifying, because it meant we had an imposter among us.

"Hey!" Pietro said then, loud enough for both of them to look at him, each still side-eyeing the other irritably as they did so. He stepped toward them, looking between each of them warily, before, "Who wants to tell me what happened when we first met?"

They exchanged a look, neither of their expressions changing, before plainclothes Steve spoke up. "You punched me in the face, Maximoff."

Pietro smiled smugly, and in an instant he was in front of the farse. "Sorry, but it's tradition for me with meeting Captain America--" he began to say, right before he punched the imposter in the face.

Unfortunately, the other recovered quickly, and the next thing we all knew he had a gun and was firing at random. Pietro had whizzed me behind one of our obstacle structures in the room before I could so much as blink, and soon enough Peter, Evangeline, and Steve were back there with me. 

I wasn't having 'let the bad guy get away,' though. Not today. "Road Runner!" I shouted, right before he appeared beside me. I could hear the sound of the shots beginning to fade as the man -- was he even a man? -- got away.

"Yes, dear?" Pietro asked calmly, giving me a cautious look.

I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket, and moved toward him. "We're going after him."

"Megan--" Steve started to say.

"Nope," I stopped him, as Pietro picked me up in a blur, "if he still looks like you, it'll confuse the public. We'll be right back, Cap. Don't worry."

Then Pietro and I were off, following the man down the stairs. We caught up to him right as he was running out of the Tower's lobby, and that was when Pietro chose to put me down. I didn't give myself any time to readjust to moving at a normal speed; I leapt into flight, and rushed after the false Captain America, shouting "Everyone out of the way! Avenger coming through!" 

As you can imagine, that made a path.

As you can also imagine, the fact that there was both myself, and a person who looked like Captain America running, it helped for him, too.

Which was the exact opposite of what I wanted.

I landed on the ground only a few yards behind him, forcing myself to maintain a steady speed as I ran. I was entirely prepared to reach a hand out and telekinetically force his legs out from under him, when all of a sudden, there was a flourish of a red cape in front of me, and I came to an almost instant halt.

My heart slammed up in my throat. I recognized that cape. As it fluttered back to normalcy, I saw the familiar face that paired with it; dark, devilish eyes peering at me with a cocky smile, before he and the false Captain America were invisible. 

And there I stood, rooted to the spot, fear and bewilderment and anger galore rioting within me. I could feel the heat from my light beginning to rise rapidly, my hands clenched to fists without my knowing, sparks flying, my eyes burning. The windows of the store beside me shattered with a telekinetic blast I hadn't even realized I'd let out, and I could feel my chest rising and falling with my hyperventilating, but I was no longer aware.

How did he find me?, was playing over and over in my head. I'd tried so hard to get him off my tail, I'd done so well, I'd lost him, he had been gone, he had been crazy but I had gotten rid of him and never looked back--

"Megan! Megan," Pietro's voice came from somewhere, but I couldn't see where, my eyes hurt too bad and everything just looked white. White and painful and utterly confusing. A hand that felt cold in comparison to my current state firmly gripped my shoulder, then slid down my arm, forcing my fist to an open hand, fingers tangling with my own. "Look at me, please, come on now, love," his accent resounded in my ears as he spoke in a low tone, urging me back to reality, even as my head spun like a top. "Come on, Megan, come on . . ."

I blinked once, then twice, my heart feeling like a stone in my chest. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I felt like I couldn't move. I blinked a few more times. I felt like I was choking. A few more times, and I could see him, electric blue eyes gazing into my own golden ones, concern was scrawled across his face.

"There you are," he breathed, his other hand coming up and gently holding my cheek. "All right, okay-- we are going to go back to the Tower. Please do not freak out."

Then my world became a blur again, but not because of my own power-fritz. I felt his strong arms around me, and for that instant my terrified mantra changed to 'safe.' I was safe. Pietro was here, he understood, I was safe.

But he didn't understand.

None of them would understand, not yet.

I had some explaining to do.

We came to a stop in a room and I focused in on Pietro as I tried to bring myself back down to normal, down to calm, watching as he urged JARVIS to call all the Avengers to our location, watching him as they arrived, and he addressed each one of them. Watching as he glanced at me for a second at a time in concern.

Then he was by my side for just a fraction of a second, out of my sight for just that long, long enough to whisper, "Everything is going to be fine," a promise he no doubt intended to keep.

And then he was speaking to everyone again. And I was watching as he spoke to the real Steve, who was now sharing in his concerned looks. I knew if I risked looking away from Pietro long enough, I'd see my entire team looking at me the same way. But I couldn't do it. I just focused on him, because he was always there, and he was the first one I'd need to get to understand. 

But I had to tell all of them.