Destruction ━ Bucky Barnes [2]

19 ━ SURVIVAL INSTINCT

DESTRUCTION.
( chapter nineteen.)

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EDITED 08/14/2025 @1:40 AM

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 the air that had been winded 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. Only the pain of her landing remained.

Andrea writhed, forcing her muscles to move as fear quickly set in. The ship was silent and that was far 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. What the hell happened? It was the only thought circling her head as she 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 upon had failed her. Somehow, that wasn't the worst part.

  No, the worst part was knowing that it had backfired in such a horrifying way. Andy groaned, overcome with sudden nausea. She leaned over a crate, retching until all she could produce was 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 now her only question.

  A quick glance upwards confirmed that Andy had effectively destroyed the platform above. It wasn't a shield she had conjured (intended to protect Tony), it was an explosion. One she had lost complete control over.

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

  "Looking for someone?"

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

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

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

  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.