Destruction ━ Bucky Barnes [2]

19 ━ SURVIVAL INSTINCT

DESTRUCTION.
( chapter nineteen.)

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  ANDREA'S CONCEPT OF TIME swayed in and out of focus.

  First, she was a girl, young and held by the comforting arms of her father. Then an assassin, drowning in blood. Weapons for limbs. Those recollections lingered longer than most.

  Lastly, she was a wife— loved, if only briefly.

  Then Andy was on her back, gasping for air forcibly removed from her lungs. Her back ached with what could only be the impact of hitting the ground. Luckily, the pain from before was gone; save for her far-too-vivid memory of it.

  She writhed, forcing her muscles to move as fear quickly set in. The ship was silent, and that was more terrifying than waking up to chaos. There was no shouting as men evacuated, only a lingering quiet, devoid of voices or fighting.

Andy got to her feet quickly, ignoring the way her muscles smarted and ached. What happened? Was her only thought and it raced through countless possibilities.

Her brain worked quickly, scouring through the moments before she passed out. The power she was becoming so used to relying on had failed. Not the worst part.

The worst part was knowing that it had backfired in a horrifying way.

Andy groaned, overcome with sudden nausea. She leaned over a crate, retching until she could only produce a dry heave. More blood.

She wiped her mouth, eyes darting around the ship. There was enough evidence to conclude that the fight had continued on without her. Where everyone had gone to was her question.

A quick glance upwards confirmed that Andy had effectively destroyed the platform above. It wasn't a shield she conjured (meant to protect Tony), it was an explosion. One she had no control over.

Had they failed? She fell to her knees. The thought made her weak.

"Looking for someone?"

Andy didn't hesitate. She turned and lunged, grasping at the collar of the Maximoff boy's shirt. "Where are they?!" She demanded, spurred on by rage.

Pietro's eyes were wide, but unafraid. "They're still alive." 'For now' lingered in the silence.

  The message was clear. She choked back a sob. This was her fault, she should have been watching their backs. She failed.

Andy released her grip, too weak to catch herself as she fell to the floor. She hadn't felt this exhaustion in so long. It made her sick— and tired. She was so tired.

Gasping, she forced back a dry heave, inhaling deeply to force air into her lungs. Pietro watched on with cautious curiosity. If he thought he had the upper hand, he wasn't showing it.