We'll Fight Together (Romanogers / Steve X Natasha)

HYDRA's Game

They bolted into the chaos, soon enough finding themselves standing in the midst of a shootout. A line of 20 black-suited criminals stood with machine guns, firing aimlessly at the buildings on the opposite side of the street. Innocent bystanders shrieked as they collectively hid behind cars and inside buildings. Clea looked a little closer at their masks, recognizing a familiar skull emblem. However, there was no time to make an announcement.

"PROTECT THE CITIZENS," Steve barked as he tossed his shield at one of the gunmen. It struck them in the neck, sending them crashing into the lunatic beside them. Both of them went down, though one was struggling to stand again.

Natasha analyzed the situation as she was running into the line of fire. She thought, Shouldn't the guy with the shield be, I don't know, shielding people? Yet again, as she glanced back, she saw that although the fight had hardly started, an impressive chunk of the gunmen were already down. So, ignoring every bullet that zoomed passed her face, she did everything she could to rush the citizens to safety. Clea, however, may have been the only reason that they all survived.

Standing in the center of the street, she was stopping bullets in mid air as if they were flies. Round after round fell to the cold, cracked concrete, and after a few minutes, every gun was focused on her and her alone. It had no effect, of course. If anything, it only made controlling the leaden ammo easier; knowing that every blast was aimed at a single entity was much easier than guessing when and where the next shot would be fired. This didn't stop Steve from panicking, though, and so when he had decommissioned the last gunman, the first thing he did was hurry to her side.

"Clea, are you alright?"

She looked up at him, her eyes colder than usual. Clearly, Steve understood, she was thinking about the HYDRA emblem that he too had seen painted onto the operatives' helmets. "Not a scratch, though if I can survive a plane crash, then I doubt a bullet could do anything."

Nodding, Steve blew out a hot breath of relief and looked around. "Where's Natasha?"

"Up here!" Natasha's voice sounded from inside one of the buildings and she stepped into view, peering out of one of the shattered windows on the structure's second floor.

"Damage report?" Steve asked.

"From what I can tell," Natasha replied confidently, "These gunmen are worse than Stormtroopers. We've got zero injuries."

"No injuries?" Steve thought for a moment, secretly proud of himself for catching the Star Wars reference. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would HYDRA launch an attack on innocent people and leave all of them unharmed?"

Clea guessed, "To create fear?"

Natasha launched herself out of the shattered window, landing on the sidewalk on her feet as if she was a cat. Walking over, she replied, "If you want to create fear, you make examples. This isn't an example, it's a game meant to attract players."

"And if I had to guess, we're the players." Steve squinted in the sunlight, eyeing the downed operatives. He could hear sirens in the distance and estimated that they were about four blocks away. As long as every criminal stayed down, they'd all be arrested. "That means they know we're here."

A small, round-faced child with short brown hair and brown eyes ran up to Natasha, babbling away in Dutch. She knelt down to his height, processing every word that flew out of his mouth. Her expression turned from intrigued, to horrified, to grave in a matter of seconds. After the child ran back to his mother, who had wandered after him, Natasha rose from the ground, staring into the depths of the building.

Steve took a step towards her. "Nat?"

Natasha turned around, her steely-eyes growing soft as she witnessed his worried stance. She decided that it was best to change the subject for now, and did as such. "That was a successful side-mission, but we have work to do. C'mon, let's hit the road before the cops come."

Clea seemed too preoccupied to notice what had just happened. Instead, she stood off to the side, slowly running a hand through her blonde locks as she wandered into the endless void of spiraling thoughts that tantalized her mind. Finally, just as Steve and Natasha began their escape from the crime scene, she requested, "Can we sleep in a motel again, please? Last night was the best sleep I've had in years."

"I don't think we have a choice, so yes." Steve, although her last statement collided with him like a punch to the throat, grinned. He pointed towards the nearest building that wasn't littered in bullet holes. It appeared to be a DVD Store but Steve wasn't sure. "Let's go ask for directions."

Clea nodded. "On it!" She quickly jogged towards the building, opening the door and heading inside.

After watching her leave, Steve turned to Natasha. She peered up at him, her visage calm and unmoving. Still, he had to ask. "Nat, what did that kid say to you?"

She stood silent for a moment before opening her mouth to speak. "Remember the monster Clea told us about?" Steve watched her curiously, but he didn't show any signs of confusion. Natasha continued. "Well, I think we've been followed."

Steve's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"One of the 'citizens' I saved-" She paused, attempting to make sense of the information the child had given her. "-After I joined you guys in the street, they apparently morphed into an entirely different person and fled."

Steve glanced away for a moment, muttering a few choice words under his breath. It took every ounce of self control that Natasha had to resist the desire of playfully retorting, "Language, Rogers!" However, knowing that it wasn't the right time to do so made repressing it much easier. After his short burst of anger, he faced her again, crossing his arms over his chest. "I bet it's one of HYDRA's... Well, what's the plan then?"

The door to the DVD Store opened and Clea bounded out, marching back towards the two former-Avengers. Before she entered ear-shot, Natasha spit out the words: "A motel is still our only and best option. If that thing follows, then we'll just have to deal with it then and there."

Clea returned, a content expression painted on her face. "Luckily, the owner spoke English." She began to point southward. "The nearest motel is three miles in that direction."

Steve's eyes begged the question: Should we tell her?

No, let's not worry her night now, Natasha tried to motion back. Then, forcing a smile, she joined Clea. "Well then, lead the way."

————————————————————————

Two chapters in one week? Oh, yeah!