"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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June was losing. Badly. Again.
Whoever this guy was, clearly didn't go down without some serious effort, and casualties to boot. The other guard who June had left behind to care for her friend still hadn't shown up, and she was praying for some backup right about now.
Several new wounds had appeared: on her arms, legs, even her abdomen where there was extra padding to protect her from situations just like this.
Currently, June was laying on her back, shield a mere foot away from her outstretched hand, when the end of a blade came swiping down directly between her fingers. She shrieked and drew her hand back instantly, scooting backward on her palms. It had scraped the inside of her middle finger, and a drop of blood slowly, mockingly, fell to the grass.
God, there was so much blood, everywhere she turned, everything was running crimson. Blood on her hands, on her clothes, on the skin of her friends, on the blade of her enemy, there was just too much. It was the reason June had left the Avengers after the war between them. And she didn't think she'd ever go back, but here she was.
June was exhausted, it was her only excuse for her bad form as she shimmied backward, and right into a tree.
This is the end, she came to the conclusion as the blade came slicing toward her head.
It was stopped, inches from her face, by a silver spear, held by a very angry looking female bodyguard.
In a single, fluid motion, June's near killer went spiraling down the hill. The guard stared after him for a moment before holding out her hand to June. "I apologize."
June wiped the dirt from her thighs. "Don't be, I understand. Is she-"
She lowered her head, sadness flickering across her features. "She has passed on."
June wanted to comfort her, truly, she did, but they had other problems that required attention. Like the recovered alien climbing the hill toward them.
June swipped her shield from the ground, and for the second time in a handful of minutes, barreled into his chest.
Both of them rolled, her field of vision was nothing but a blur of green and brown, with the occasional flash of blue and black. June stopped on her side, pushing herself up as fast as possible, and jumping into her fight position like she'd done hundreds of times before.
Gripping the shield in her hand, June watched as the alien began to stand, and had to jump aside as the bodyguard jumped down the hill, spear outstretched, screaming for murder.
