Choices || CAPTAIN AMERICA (Book 4)

Chapter 7

I stood quietly in the shadow of the medical center doorway, watching through the glass as Tony and Vision observed Rhodey being examined. The room was sterile, filled with the soft hum of machines and the subdued light of the afternoon. Tony's face was a storm of frustration, grief, and anger. And who could blame him? His best friend was lying there, grievously injured. All because of me. Because of Nat and me. But I had a feeling that my name carried a different weight, a heavier one.

As Tony scanned the room, his gaze finally locked onto mine. In his eyes, I saw a mixture of hurt, betrayal, and something that cut deeper—disappointment.

"The doctors say he shattered L4 through S1. Severe laceration of the spinal cord." Tony's voice was low, almost mechanical, as if reciting a medical report could distance him from the pain. "Paralysis, most likely. Some form of it."

We stood on the edge of the green field, a stark contrast to the cold reality inside. My heart ached for Rhodey, for the friend who had fought beside us. But I knew Tony was searching for answers—for why this had all spiraled out of control.

"Steve won't stop," I said quietly, finally turning to meet his gaze. "And if you don't either, Tony, Rhodey might be the best-case scenario."

Tony's eyes darkened. "You let them go, Al. You and Romanoff both."

"We miscalculated," I admitted, trying to find the right words. "We played this wrong."

Tony's laugh was bitter, almost a scoff. "We? I knew Nat had that double agent streak in her, but you? I thought you were better than that."

I clenched my fists, the frustration boiling over. "Are you really so blinded by your ego that you can't see past it for one second?"

For a moment, the air between us was thick with unspoken words. Then Tony sighed, the fight draining out of him.

"T'Challa told Ross what you did. They're coming for you. Both of you."

"Let them come," I replied, my voice steely. "I've faced worse."

I turned to leave, but Tony reached out, his hand gently wrapping around my wrist, halting me. His touch was surprisingly soft, almost hesitant.

"I'll try to talk Ross out of it," he murmured, his voice quieter now, filled with concern. "I know you weren't thinking straight."

I looked down at his hand, then back at him, my heart softening for just a moment. "Tony, stop worrying about me and start watching your own back." I squeezed his hand, letting it linger for a second longer before pulling away.

I walked away from Tony, my heart heavy with the weight of our words, but I didn't look back. The compound seemed eerily quiet, every step echoing my thoughts. I knew this wasn't the end of our conversation, just a pause, a brief moment of calm before the storm that was about to hit us all. But right now, I needed to focus.

Tony was going to go after Steve and Bucky, no question about it. I had to move fast if I was going to keep up with him—and more importantly, if I was going to protect them. I may have been a criminal in Ross's eyes, but that didn't mean I was going to sit on the sidelines and watch my brother spiral further.

Reaching my quarters, I quickly pulled up the tracking data on my device. The tiny blip representing Tony's suit was already well on its way, heading north as expected. I smirked. So predictable, Tony. But this time, I was going to be the one to surprise him.

I grabbed my gear and made my way to the hangar, moving with the quiet efficiency I'd honed over years of fieldwork. The jet I had in mind was still there, waiting, almost like it knew I'd be coming for it. A sense of satisfaction surged through me as I approached it, the familiar lines of its design promising speed and stealth.

The hangar was deserted—most of the staff were either attending to Rhodey or busy with the fallout from the Avengers' splintering. I slid into the cockpit, fingers dancing over the controls as I powered everything up. The hum of the jet's engines was a welcome sound, steady and powerful beneath me.

I didn't waste any time. With a few swift commands, I disabled the jet's GPS and communication systems, cutting off any chance Ross—or anyone else—would have of tracking me. The last thing I needed was for them to catch up to me before I caught up to Tony.

As the jet lifted off, the compound quickly shrank beneath me. I set the autopilot to follow Tony's trajectory, letting the onboard systems do the hard work of staying on his trail. The sky stretched endlessly ahead, cold and vast, mirroring the uncertainty of what lay before me. But I wasn't afraid. I'd made my choice, and there was no turning back now.

Flying alone gave me too much time to think. My mind raced with possibilities, trying to piece together what Steve and Bucky were heading toward. Whatever it was, it had to be bigger than just the two of them. I could feel it in my gut. And if Tony was going in blind, I needed to be there to have his back.

A small part of me wished things could have been different. That we hadn't all ended up on opposite sides of this war. But wishes weren't going to change anything now. Only actions would.

The jet's navigation system chimed, indicating we were closing in on Tony's location. I leaned forward, eyes narrowing as the clouds parted, revealing the desolate expanse of Siberia below. The land was a harsh, unforgiving white, endless snow and ice stretching as far as the eye could see. It felt appropriate somehow, that this final confrontation would take place in such a cold, barren place.

🚨IMPORTANT NOTICE🚨
Okay so I want you guys to tell me in the comment or send me a priv message :how do you imagine Steve and Alice in the 5 years separating Infinity War from Endgame. Are they living together? Married? Children? Do they stay in touch with Tony?All the relative stuff so that I can get ideas. Thank you:)