.
I really, really hope this doesn't happen
"Go. Come on." Rogers threw a door open, Bucky and Wilson bolted through it ahead of him, shielding their heads. Rogers followed them and kicked the door shut behind him, it wouldn't buy them much time, just keep them out of line of sight for a moment. "Go. Run." He panted.
"Where are we going?" Wilson called over his shoulder.
"Away." They were in full retreat. Barton was dead, he'd lost track of Lang, Carter was injured, she should be able to slip away and be ignored. That wasn't an option for them. He and Bucky were the ones they really wanted.
He'd never been in a fight and lost this badly: one dead, one MIA, one incapacitated, everyone bleeding. Every movement hurt somehow. There was a great raw burn on one of his legs from Stark's repulsors, he was covered in gashes and scrapes, so was Bucky. They'd leave a blood trail. They'd be followed wherever they ran, but they could not stand and fight any longer. They had no answer to Vision, they'd lost their sniper and their surprise attack had just vanished. They could only run or surrender, and there was no way Bucky could surrender to them. They'd destroy him; lock him up, bring him back under programming… Bucky's only hope was to evade them, but Stark and Vision could both fly. In an open fight, Bucky wouldn't last long against either one of them. He needed another option.
They broke back out of the building on to a half-covered courtyard. All three of them stopped, looking around.
"Storm drain." Rogers pointed, there was one in the corner, just behind the parked car. "We get below, we eliminate the flight advantage, go by stealth." Wilson nodded. He was guarding his side. He'd taken a hard hit there from Stark. Bucky crouched and pulled the cover off, he had one arm that wasn't bleeding at least.
"Looks passable." He said.
"We foxholing or getting away?" Wilson asked.
"Getting away. Go. I'll be on your six. Go." Rogers said. Wilson nodded, sat down at the edge and dropped.
"Ten feet." He called up. "If that." Bucky looked hard at Rogers.
"Buck, go. I'll follow." He went. Rogers stashed his shield on his back and heard the familiar burn of Stark's repulsors above him. They'd been found. He had seconds before he was seen and they knew where they'd gone. Maybe that was all he needed.
Rogers kicked the drain cover back in to place and pulled the car two feet backwards over it, fortunately the handbrake was clapped out. If they couldn't see the drain, hopefully they wouldn't think to send men down it for a while. He'd just straightened and started to look for another way to run when the roof shattered above him. Plastic shards fell like little knives, there was shouting everywhere.
"Put your hands above your head! Don't move!" Spec ops, coming from two places, and Stark from above. This would be like shooting fish in a barrel if he tried to fight. Too many sides, not enough cover, and Stark and Vision coming out of the sky. He surrendered or he died. Rogers did the unimaginable. He raised both hands above his head.
"Get on your knees!" He did, grimacing in pain as the movement pulled at the burn.
"Nice and slow now, take off your helmet." Again, he did as he was told, spitting blood. His nose was bleeding, so was a cut on his cheek.
"There's no need for this." Stark said, landing six feet in front of him. Rogers didn't look up. He closed his eyes. He was tired. He was so tired. He didn't want to fight any more. "You can put the guns down, we're not going to get any tricks. Cap?" Stark sounded about as tired as Rogers felt. Rogers ignored him. "Cap? Where's the Soldier?" Again, Rogers ignored him. They didn't know. They hadn't noticed the drain. Bucky had got away, and Wilson was with him. They might actually stand a chance.
Tony sighed heavily and pulled his faceplate up. He glanced over his shoulder at Vision. "Captain, he's dangerous. I know he's your friend, but if he's left to run around on his own, people will get killed." The Captain completely ignored him. He was doing the Stoic Warrior thing. Surely he had to realise it was over. "Cap, come on. Please. Don't draw this out. Nobody else needs to die." He still didn't look up.
"The prisoner is too powerful to safely contain." Ross's voice sounded in Tony's ear, out of Rogers's hearing. Tony tensed, drew breath to contradict the General, Rogers might be strong but he was no match for Vision, or an Iron Man suit, but before he could "Operative six, take the shot."
"No!" Tony roared, but his voice was lost under the gunshot. The Captain convulsed once and fell face down, a hole torn in the back of his head, red pooling in to the white and sticking to the hair around the hole. He'd surrendered. He'd been kneeling down with his hands up. He'd surrendered. Tony felt the colour drain out of his face, he was going to be sick. He was dead. He'd surrendered and they'd killed him. He was dead.
"Who did that?" Tony asked the line of masked spec ops, swallowing hard. "Which one of you is operative six?"
I'm sorry. This is very nearly the worst outcome I could imagine, as I'm sure you've realised it's based on the comics. I really hope that this isn't what we see over the next few days.
Thanks to my beta, CaptainArwenPond221B, to my Grandmother for inspiring me to write and to God for creating the world and everything in it. Solo Dei Gloria.