vii. She watches from overhead, as another Winter Soldier grabs Bucky, twisting him and crushing him into the ground, over and over and over and spitting in words in a language she doesn't recognize, but she's overcome by such ferocity and fear of losing him and fear of anyone hurting him any more than he's already been hurt that she finds herself surging forward, through the city and through the people and the rest of the team and she's rolling the scarlet between her palms, pulling it and tearing as the Winter Soldier, suspended above ground, screeches in pain as she rips the very limbs from his body.
Go, he splutters, rubbing the blood and spit from his mouth. Get out of here. Get out of here now.
But he squeezes her hand roughly, eyes burning.