Into the Mist. (Avengers FanFiction) Sequel to Away We Go

Chapter 13

*HERE YA GO. Please point out any spelling/grammatical mistakes! It's appreciated! I think this sequel may be wrapping up, but I'm not entirely sure how many more chapters I will post before it ends. MAYBE iT'LL END SOON, MAYBE NOT. I just hope you like it! Sorry for the long wait!* 

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

“Fury!” 

After firing off three more rounds into a swarm of agents, he whipped his head around, eye widening as I rushed toward him, Roland in tow. I briefly caught sight of Stark in  my peripheral, hovering above the agitated horde that convulsed like a spastic ink blot. 

“Good to see ya, Rogers, we could use another hand here,” he said, once I was within earshot. I nodded– hopefully we could put an end to this today. He looked like he wanted to say more but I cut him off. I had a more pressing issue. 

“Is there anyone out there who could help him?” I ask, spotting a small door off to the side, no doubt the teams point of entry. 

“Yeah, rookie in a small jet, 200 yards out, northwest.” Without a word (and hoping my next move wouldn’t worsen Roland’s injuries), I threw him over my shoulder and booked it out of the compound. As I suspected, we were in the middle of nowhere, the dense forest a perfect camouflage for such a place. My surroundings began to blur as I ran as fast as super-humanly possible toward my destination; vaulting fallen logs and ducking under branches as I went.  

“This man needs medical assistance!” I shouted, spotting the rookie hovering worriedly by the open mouth of the jet. He started when my voice shattered the previous quiet, gun shooting up, aimed right at my heart. “Woa, woa, it’s just me, Steve Rogers! Captain America!” I yelled, one hand raised in a palm up ‘I mean no harm’ gesture. Within a moment the young man was blubbering apologies, tucking his gun into the waist band of his pants. I jogged past him, laying Roland across a bench.

“It’s fine, I just need you to help him, I need to go,” I said, anxious to get back to the compound, to possibly get back to Calypso. If she was in there, I couldn’t let her down. Not again.

“Yes, sir,” the rookie said, saluting me as I sprinted back outside. I felt bare without my shield, with my outfit soiled and torn, but I pushed on, because sometimes, there was nothing else you could do. 

Clint Barton’s a.k.a Hawkeye’s P.O.V

“Natasha!” 

My eyes found hers once again, mine narrowing as I took in her battered state. A magenta bruise was blossoming across her right cheek, droplets of blood trickling from her nose. I snarled, pulling my fist back and sending it sailing across the face of another agent. Stomping on his chest, I battled my way toward her. Tony provided sufficient air support, but the fear that I wouldn’t reach her soon enough tore at my heart like hooks made of ice. I caught glimpses of Loki every now and then, my blood boiling at the minuscule glimpses of the despised Asgardian. 

I had run out of arrows relatively quickly, and had to rely on hand to hand and my bow to take out the enemy. I made steady progress, my anger and desperation fueling my fight  and creating a deadly combination. 

These were the people who’d killed Calypso. These were the people who’d taken Natasha and Steve. These were the people who’d harmed Natasha. 

With that last thought, I sent out a flurry of punches, breaking through the wall of agents that had been separating me from her. With a grunt I latched onto her free arm, yanking her towards me. To my surprise, she resisted the slightest bit, and it wasn’t because Loki still had her wrist in what looked like a bruising grip. I shot her a dubious look, yanking harder, and she pulled right back. “Clint,” Natasha whispered, voice hoarse. She gripped the front of my jacket, shooting me an indecipherable look. I glanced back at Loki who was now watching our exchange. He wielded his scepter, taking out ten men in a go, eyes never leaving us. His gaze sent a sliver of fear ripping up my spine. Memories from the time under his command flooded back, threatening to drown me, but I stood firm. I had to, for Natasha. 

She turned from me to stare at Loki, unwaveringly meeting what I presumed was a  silent challenge to dare him to try to keep her. There were no words for my surprise when he nodded slightly before releasing her wrist. Just. Like. That. 

Natasha attempted to pull me away, but I was rooted to the spot, staring at the norse god as if he’d suddenly grown 6 heads and a tail. 

“Go,” Loki growled, shoving me hard in the chest with the end of his scepter. I stumbled, and Natasha used my momentum to drag me toward the fringes of the crowd, sending agents to the ground at a break neck speed. Looking around, I noted that their numbers were dwindling and fast. 

“Nat, what–” I muttered, once she had managed to shove me through the side door. 

“You need to trust me, Clint,” she snapped, pulling me further from the building. 

“What was that, Nat! He just–” I growled, stopping short as I got another glimpse of her face. The bruise was...disappearing, the blood...evaporating. “Wha–” 

“Clint,” she shouted, grinding to a halt and spinning to fully face me. “I know you’re confused, but I can’t explain everything here, not now, but I promise you I will explain. I’d just prefer if we weren’t in the blast radius,” she said, waving over an equally disgruntled Fury and Stark.

“Blast radius?!” I thought, keeping the question to myself to avoid another reprimand.

“Come on,” she urged, ushering all three of us into the coverage of the trees. We followed silently, perturbed at what was taking place. Something wasn’t right. 

“Do any of you know where Rogers is?” she asked, eyes darting around in suspicion. 

“He took Roland to the jet for medical assistance–” Fury began, only to be interrupted by Steve himself who shot out from a nearby row of trees, skidding to a stop before us. 

“I’m going back in, I need to be sure she’s not in there, I’ll meet you back at the jet as soon as I can,” he said, nearly spitting the words out in his rush. Before any of us could even think of a response, he was gone, swallowed by the brush. Suddenly, Natasha lurched forward, hand outstretched as if to grab at the man who was no longer there.

“Steve!” Natasha shrieked, eyes wide in horror. All color seemed to drain from her face as we stood in the wake of the super soldier. “I– He can’t be in there, he can’t go back in there,” she mumbled, seeming to choke around the words. 

“Why?” I asked, gripping Nat by the shoulders as she began to hyperventilate. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, he was supposed to be clear of here–” she murmured, the black of her pupils swallowing the green iris. 

“Natasha, what’s going on?! Steve can take care of himself–” Tony said, but she shook her head adamantly, her face pinched in distress.

“You don’t understand! That compound is rigged to blow!” she shouted, and for that one moment, my heart stood still. It was sent back into an uneven, faltering tempo as, not a minute later, the first of what would be many explosions, echoed like thunder across the sky.