(A/N): Hey guys, this isn't one of the future fics I put onto my profile, sorry. I literally made this in my head in the middle of the night. Keep in mind that this story doesn't connect to the plot of Civil War.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, really. Especially not the Avengers.
I used to love heights. Still do. I loved it because of the vantage point, the power of seeing everything, everyone.
And the view. I always loved the view.
But this view was anything but beautiful.
Rubble blocked the streets. Buildings on the verge of collapse. Shouts for help, silence in return.
I sucked in the dusty air. Drawing in my bow, I breathed out. And shot.
The Chitauri fell. I went on without hesitation.
-time lapse-
As I stepped out of the restaurant, I was welcomed by the haunting eeriness, the ghosts of the dead hovering over me. Scanning over, I saw the destruction of the battle. Cars flipped, sirens blaring. The police, firefighters, and ambulance scrambled through the wreckage, left to deal with the aftermath. And the people of New York were left to deal with the losses.
-time lapse-
I viewed the funeral at a distance.
A small sea of black swarmed around the casket, tears falling, hugs given.
If only I were able to be there, able to apologize for their loss. Apologize for the fact that it was a falling Chitauri that I had hit that killed the boy. The boy who came back to visit family, and was planning to go back to college. The boy who would never live.
His name was Kyle Gu. He wanted to become an environmental scientist, change the world.
Kyle was nothing special. A regular guy, a regular life.
But that was why I was there. Because I used to be regular too.
Who am I to take a life? An innocent bystander who was killed because of the carelessness of others? Why can't I go up there and beg for forgiveness? Because I'm an agent at SHIELD? Since when was that a job that made you lose your empathy?
Us Avengers celebrated the victory, but we should have been grieving. Grieving for the deaths of loved ones, the deaths of sons and daughters, mothers and fathers. Were we that heartless? Heartless enough to not care?
I hoped that the celebration was only to mask the weeping, a facade for the public. If not, I wasn't sure if I would be willing to go another round. I wasn't sure if I could still get the job done.
I wasn't sure if I could still be an Avenger.
(A/N): Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are always welcome.