After multiple run-ins with death and many shocking self-discoveries in the course of a few months, all America Evans wants to do is hide away in Washington with Steve until she finds out who she really is. But life as an Avenger doesn't allow for a...
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AMERICA'S POV
"They should be somewhere around here," Steve whispers, leading the way through the empty, dark factory. I grip my knife a bit tighter when I hear a familiar voice.
"Don't compare me with Stark! He's a sickness!"
"There he is," I supply unnecessarily.
"Ah, Junior. You're gonna break your old man's heart," Tony says, flying into the light, Thor, Steve and I slightly behind him.
"If I have to," Ultron replies neutrally. My eyes lock with Pietro's across the room. I shake my head at him. Don't. But he ignores me. The girl, my little sister, Wanda, looks at me curiously. Our hair is almost an identical coppery shade, and her eyes the same dark brown.
"We don't have to break anything," Thor says, but his muscles tense, waiting for the inevitable fight. We will have to break something. This is just a formality.
"Clearly you never made an omelet." I can't believe this stupid bot is able to laugh, but that's probably because he's similar to Tony.
"He beat me by one second!" Tony adds to my annoyance.
"Ah, this is funny, Mr. Stark," Pietro quips quietly. A grin spreads onto his face. "It's what, comfortable? Like old times?"
Tony glances at the bombs stored below. "This was never my life."
"You two can still walk away from this," I say to the twins, embarrassed to hear that there's a bit of begging in my voice. "Please."
"Oh, we will," Wanda says, nodding to herself with a smile. What can she do? Something with minds, I think. I'll stay away from her. I don't like things I can't understand.
Ultron turns to look at the pair of them. "This is her? I should be thanking you, I suppose. It certainly was nice to be created."
"I know you've suffered," Steve starts, watching the two carefully. Ultron makes a retching noise of disgust at his words.
"Ugh! Captain America. God's righteous man, pretending you could live without a war. I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but..."
"If you believe in peace," Thor says, "let us keep it."
"I believe you're confusing peace with quiet."
"Uh-huh. What's the vibranium for?" Tony asks, trying to keep the bot on his toes. I glance at Steve. Any minute now.
"I'm glad you asked that, because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan!" He replies sarcastically. Ultron blasts Tony while drones of the Iron Legion and the twins head for us. One thing I automatically notice is that none of the bots are coming after me. I only fight the ones I personally attack. It's not worth it. I immediately run toward Pietro, who stops and grins when he sees me.
"Nice to see me again, eh, sis?"
He throws the first punch but I duck. I've never fought this quickly before. Just blurs of motion. It's insane. And almost fun. But I'm not supposed to be having fun with my brother. I'm supposed to be taking him down.
"I don't know. You tell me."
"I think it is."
"Why aren't they going after me?"
"Because I told Ultron I wouldn't help unless he left you alone."
"And he just said yes?"
"Under the pretense of my recruiting you. Interested in joining? We don't wear stupid uniforms."
"For your information, I designed this."
"I didn't mean you. Mr. Stars and Stripes is a different story." I roll my eyes but refuse to comment.
I'm better at fighting than he is, but he's bigger, so when he pushes me down, I go down. I sit up slowly. That'll leave a bruise. Something red floats in front of my vision and my head gets all fuzzy. Like a cold, but worse. I think I hear someone, a girl, whisper, "I'm sorry," before the vision pulls me under.
"Hey, you ready?" I turn suddenly, but it's only Sam, smiling in a tuxedo. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost or something."
"No, no, I'm fine." I glance around, bewildered, then down at myself. All of our friends and teammates are gathered in a small chapel. My dress is fitted and with a long train. In my hands is a bouquet of red roses. It's my wedding.
We walk down the aisle slowly while organ music is played. I smile when I see Steve at the altar with Tony as his best man. As I pass the guests, one of them whispers something. Russian words. I tense, but it's too late. I feel the emotion leave my body and my mind harden.
I blink, and everyone is gone.
Blood splatters are all over my once-beautiful wedding dress. Tears run down the sides. I immediately check myself for injuries, but there aren't any to be found. Then the realization hits me: the blood isn't mine. The roses drip red. In my hand is a single, bloody dagger. One of my long sleeves is ripped clean off, and my brand stands out dark against my skin.
Voices start to scream in my head, voices so loud that I cover my ears.
"What did you do?"
"Killer."
"Avengers Harbor 'Reformed' Terrorist!"
"Traitor."
"You thought you could escape?"
"Liar."
"They trusted you."
"Puppet."
"You didn't see that coming?"
"Ruthless."
A single form appears in front of me. Steve. Pale and dressed in a black suit. He stares at me, then whispers,
"Goodbye." My arm moves against my will, and I stab him straight through the heart.
"America. America. America!" My breath catches in my throat as I look up to see Steve, his blue worried eyes inches from my own. "Come on, we're leaving." He reaches his hand out and pulls me up, pushing me forward. I'm too dazed to argue or process anything, so I obey.
New one! This was fun but slightly depressing to write. Also, being sick is not fun.
