3 | Civil War

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Y/N

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Running from Stark and his pals was nothing short of hard.

Sure, I'd had years of horrible Hydra training embedded into my soul, but that was nothing compared to whatever that flying computer was. They called him Vision, or something.

"[y/n], take the interior airport route with Sam," Bucky said, pointing behind me, "we'll meet you at the jet hanger."

"You sure you'll be okay without me?"

"We'll be fine," he nodded, "Steve and I know how to deal with these guys."

Giving him a nod, I started to run across the ground with Falcon flying behind me. I hated that guy, which made me a little annoyed Buck told me to go with him. We just didn't get along.

"You look a little mad," Sam grinned, landing back on his two feet, "or is that just your natural face."

"Talk to me one more time, and I'll cut your wings off."

"We're on the same team, soldier."

"Still doesn't change what I said."

He chuckled in amusement, and followed after me as I stalked down the airport interior. It was completely empty, and we could hear the sounds of fighting coming from outside. I didn't mean to be so harsh to Sam, but I was having trouble adjusting. It was like all the bad things about Hydra were still taking over my mind.

Sometimes they look over my body too.

"Do you hear that?" The man said abruptly, stopping in his tracks.

The sound of a glass breaking could be heard from a few paces behind us. Before we had the chance to turn around, something shot Sam in the wings, glueing him onto the floor.

"What the hell?" I said, whipping my gun out of my holster.

There was no one behind us. Literally no one. It was like some kind of ghost took over the place and was targeting Sam.

"Mind cutting me out of this?" He said, squirming around.

"What is it?"

"No idea."

I tried to rip it off, but instead the substance stuck to my metal arm. Cutting it off with my pocket knife, I started to cut through the webs. Before my blade could reach Sam, a voice came echoing out from above us, and a blob of red and blue shot down from the ceiling. Without so much as a word, they started bolting towards me.

"I'll take care of this," I frowned, standing back up.

Aiming the pistol at the approaching figure, I prepared to fire. Before I could even properly extend my arm, the attacker shot another line of the webbing out of his wrists and threw my gun off to the side.

If anyone could see through my mask, they would have seen the incredibly pissed off look on my face. Incredibly pissed off. I swung a punch at them instead, but they somehow caught my fist mid air.

"Woah...." they exclaimed, "is that a metal arm?"

If it had been any other instance, I would have swept them off their feet and knocked them out, but this was different. The voice caught me off guard. It sounded young; teenager young.

He began to twist my arm backwards, a pain ringing out into my shoulder, but I managed to stick a left jab into his chest.

"I'm Spider-man," the kid said, deflecting the rest of my punches, "by the way."

"I don't care who the hell you are," I grimace.

Sam was still stuck to the ground, watching this all unfold. He was yelling attacks for me to use, like a sports announcer, and it was making me even more annoyed. Both of these boys were annoying.

"Nice mask," Spider-man said, backflipping away from me, "you should take it off."

"I don't take off my mask," I spat out, lunging towards him.

"You should, dude, it really helps with the air flow."

Before I could respond, the boy shot out another web and snatched the mask off of my face. The cold air stung against the sweat lined across my forehead, my lower head exposed. Seeing my face seemed to shock the Spider-boy, because he stopped in his tracks and stood there staring.

"I'm not a dude," I growled.

"But you're just a kid," he said, almost stammering, "what the hell?"

"I'm not a kid."

"But you're a girl!"

"And you're distracted," Sam yelled out, turning both of our heads.

At that exact second, one of the Falcon's tiny birds came swooping down from the air and attached onto Spider-man's suit. With a yell, it hurled him back out the window and far away from us. Rolling my eyes, I walked back to the man and began to cut him loose.

"Never thought I'd say this," Sam laughed, "but I'm glad you're a girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Totally shocked that idiot. Without it, you probably would have lost."

"I wouldn't have lost," I clarified, "and I'm a woman."

"You're sixteen, so girl."

"I'm eighty-six, so woman."

Sliding my knife back into my pocket, I stormed off towards the exit, the only thing on my mind behind the jet hanger. Well, maybe not just getting to the jet hanger. Hearing Spider-man's voice for the first time shocked me too. He sounded like he was my age. Well, not eighty-six, but my logical age.

He sounded like a sixteen year old.

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hehehe i have so much fun stuff planned for this book

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