"MY SISTER MAY NEED POWERS TO KICK YOUR ASS, BUT I CERTAINLY DON'T."
In which a woman who wants nothing more than to protect her sister can't seem to save herself.
[oc x steve rogers]
OR
June has always been the protective sister, maybe...
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The crash knocked June out for a grand total of one minute.
She came back to the world of the living via Vision, lightly smacking her cheek in an effort to wake her up.
It worked, and June groaned as she opened her eyes to quite the wreck.
She was outside (Vision must have pulled her out of the ship) leaning against a tree. Four of the six guards were outside, all of them in various states of unconsciousness. Did Vision pull them all out? June made a mental note to thank him when she could string cohesive words together.
The jet itself was torn virtually in half. The back with the damaged engines was in no way in one piece, and chunks of the metal lay everywhere. The front half was mostly in one piece, though the edge where the back had ripped off was jagged.
June rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand, shaking her head attempting the doubles of everything go away. It was a stupid, instinct decision, and made her head and heart pound even more.
"I believe that is unwise," Came Vision's voice from her left.
"I got that much, is everyone..." She trailed off.
Vision looked at the jet, then back to her. "Four of the guards made it out, I do not know where the fifth is, nor the princess and the pilot."
"Are they inside?"
"I have not checked yet."
June grabbed the tree behind her and used it to pull herself to her very unsteady feet. Vision rose with her, mechanical eyes filling steadily with concern. "You should remain here."
"You need to check on the other guards, wake them up. We still don't know where our hitch-hiker is yet, or the other three passengers." June stood straight, ignoring the base-line reverberating in her head. It was only then when she pulled muscles taunt that her injuries from both the crash and the fight before became prominent.
A new gash on her forehead was dripping blood (June only knew that because when she'd wiped her head, the back of her hand came away streaked with red), there was another cut on her arm, and one on her thigh. Bruises not yet found would also pop up soon enough, and June was not looking forward to that. Everything ached already, adrenaline wearing off, and she needed professional medical attention soon.
The only plus side to her injuries was the deep cut on her cheek was no longer a deep cut, but newly healed skin. There wasn't even a scar. June wanted more of those Kimono beads.
But first, she had to find the princess.
So June grit her teeth, straightened, and jogged to the ship, peering inside.
