Away We Go. (Avengers Fan Fiction)

Chapter 21

*PLEASE READ: This is the second to last chapter and it is relatively short... The next one will be the final chapter my fellow wattpadians. (Unless I add a little something-something). Your comments and votes have really been the only thing keeping this story going and I thank you all for that. So, read on and I hope you enjoy the rest of this Avenger Fanfiction.* 

 

Black Widow’s a.k.a Natasha Romanoff’s P.O.V.

We were winning. 

We were actually winning. 

Some of our sharp shooters had taken down the two jets that had pursued us, but not without the price of one of the fans. The carrier still wobbled beneath our feet, more susceptible to the air currents. 

“Get us over water!” Fury shouted from somewhere nearby. We were fairly close to the coast and this time it would be no problem. 

“Ugh!” Fury exclaimed, just after a bout of gunfire. I saw Clint look around, face going white as a sheet as he spotted something on the floor by the far entrance. I poked my head above the edge of the table, newfound rage surging within me as I saw Fury lying on the floor, gun held loosely in a limp hand. He wasn’t moving. 

“No!” Thor roared, charing the culprit. 

I sat back down, completely still, the shock nearly debilitating. Nick...

Only six men remained, and we were wearing them down. I cursed, gripping my leg as a bullet flew by my head, imbedding itself into the far wall, throwing me back into the action. I loaded another round into the chamber of my pistol, trying to quell the trembling in my fingers. 

I watched as Clint took down enemy number five, before taking cover next to me, behind an over turned desk. 

“We’re going to make it,” he said, reaching over to take my hand, just as he had in Budapest. Sure there was possibly dozens of the enemy back at base but we could only focus on the people here. 

One step at a time. 

“We are, aren’t we?” I laughed, my fingers beginning to go numb from the amount of blood loss I was enduring. “Where’s Calypso?”

Just as soon as the question left my mouth, her earsplitting scream ripped through the air, followed by a harsh boom. I launched into a standing position, completely forgetting about the gun fire. All I managed to see was a giant whole in one of the front windows leading out to the deck, and two men clambering through it with guns at the ready. Steve and Calypso were no where to be found. 

“Take the others out, Stark!” I growled, the sudden rush of adrenaline pushing away all thoughts of pain as I launched myself over desks and chairs to reach the outside. I didn’t stop to acknowledge Tony’s confirmation of the kills, or to hear Clint barking out orders to the paramedics. 

Nothing mattered but saving her. I couldn’t let her down again. 

Steve Roger’s a.k.a Captain America’s P.O.V.

I didn’t actually see her jump through the hole in the glass. 

I’d turned to tend to a fallen agent, my attention diverted for a minute at most, and by that time she was gone. I briefly wondered how she could have moved so fast but with adrenaline coursing through one’s veins almost anything was possible. 

It seemed that no one else had seen her go out onto the deck, except for the last two men in suits. 

My breath caught in my lungs as they loped after her, firing off shots left and right. I was chasing after them before my brain could even register why. Her pained scream only pushed me to go faster. Glass crunched beneath my feet as I catapulted myself through the window, immediately spotting the scuffle that was taking place. 

A red patch was blossoming across her left leg, barely visible through the black of the pants. One man was already on the ground, shaking off what must have been a hit to the head. 

Abruptly Tony’s voice filled the feed as he broadcasted to everyone that Fury would indeed make it. I hadn’t even been aware that he was injured. 

“Steve!” Calypso shrieked, terrified as the man forced her back to the edge of the deck. I recognized that when she was panicked she seemed to forget about her bending. She shoved him backward, raising her arms to protect her face as he lifted the butt of the gun to strike her. 

I’d tackled him to the ground before he could blink, wincing as he socked me in the jaw. From the corner of my eye I saw Natasha hobble outside, relief dominating her expression as she spotted Calypso nursing the nonfatal injury. 

The man squealed as I wrestled him across the ground, his weapon sliding across the asphalt. We rolled, throwing punches, until I managed to get him in a headlock, effectively rendering him unconscious. As soon as he fell limp beneath I was instantly searching for Calypso, wanting nothing more than to hold her in my arms again. 

But there was one thing I forgot. 

There had only been one man left.

Just one.

He lay on the ground, smirking, hugging his rifle to his chest as the last sounds of the battle fell silent.

The Widow saw what he was planning to do mere moments before he did it. With his shot already lined up, I should have known we’d lost, right then and there. Calypso, already teetering on the edge of the HeliCarrier, locked eyes with the gunman, watching as his fingers tightened around the trigger.

Her blue eyes filled with unshed tears, the diamonds shining in the first rays of sunlight. 

In a moment of panic, Natasha drew a knife from her belt, hurtling it towards the armed devil. The piece of steel flew from her hands, slicing though the air as it honed in on its target.  

The jarring gunshot was deafening, the weapon clattering to the ground as the knife finished its slow burial into his skull. 

It had moved his shot just a centimeter to the right, the little piece of lead jetting through the air in a slightly altered course.

A scream was wrenched from my throat– a dry, heaving sob of agony. Calypso’s head turned in my direction, eyes capturing mine for what was to be the last time. 

A stream of crimson trailed down her nose, the wound in her forehead a ghastly chasm of gore.

She blinked, then tumbled headlong off the base, into an endless expanse of sky.