Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 5 - Shattered Peace

The explosion rocked through the air, a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very ground beneath my feet. I stood there, frozen for a split second as debris rained down around me, the acrid smell of smoke filling my nostrils. My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic rhythm that drowned out everything else.

I turned sharply, scanning the scene in front of me. Civilians were screaming, scrambling to escape the chaos. I caught sight of Wanda, her face pale and eyes wide with horror as she held up her hands, still trying to contain the blast. My stomach dropped as I realized what had happened.

We had made a mistake. A terrible, devastating mistake.

"Emily!" Steve's voice cut through the din, pulling me back to the present. I turned toward him, my mind struggling to catch up with the reality of the situation. His face was set in grim determination as he assessed the damage, his gaze sweeping over the wreckage.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes locking onto mine.

I nodded numbly, my throat too tight to speak. My gaze drifted to the burning building behind us, to the people sprawled on the ground, injured or worse. My chest tightened with guilt and dread.

"We need to help them," I managed to say, my voice strained.

Steve was already moving, barking orders to the rest of the team as we rushed to assist the emergency responders. I threw myself into the task, helping to clear debris and tend to the injured, but my mind was elsewhere. It was back in that split second when Wanda had lost control, when the explosion had been redirected, and when everything had gone horribly wrong.

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Back at headquarters, the air was thick with tension. The room was filled with people—Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives, government officials—all speaking in hushed, hurried tones. I stood to the side, my arms wrapped around myself as I watched the others. Steve was at the centre of it, his face a mask of anger and frustration as he argued with the representatives sent to assess the situation.

"We were doing our job," Steve was saying, his voice tight with controlled fury. "We were trying to prevent something worse from happening."

"Your job is to protect people," one of the officials shot back. "Not create more casualties."

I felt my blood boil at the accusation, but I held my tongue. They weren't entirely wrong. People had died because of their actions, because of a situation that spiraled out of control. I glanced at Wanda, standing quietly in the corner, her eyes downcast and her shoulders slumped. My heart went out to her. She was barely holding herself together.

"Emily," Tony's voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to see him walking toward me, his expression grim. "We need to talk."

I nodded, following him to a quieter corner of the room. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking more exhausted than I'd ever seen him.

"They're pushing for the Accords," he said flatly. "They're using this... incident as the final straw."

I swallowed hard, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut. The Sokovia Accords. We had known it was coming, but this? Using this tragedy to push their agenda? It made me feel sick.

"What are you supposed to do, Tony?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Sign away your right to choose?"

He gave me a weary look. "It's not about choice, Emily. It's about accountability. We can't keep making decisions with this level of power and no oversight."

"And what happens when that oversight is used against you?" I countered, the frustration bubbling up inside me. "What happens when you're told to stand down when you know you can help?"