A/N - hello I'm alive
I would say I'm sorry for it being like 84 years but, like, i had to rewatch age of ultron so many times. And i blame all of you :/
It is a metal box. Small, cramped, not tall enough to stand in. The metal feels corrugated and weak, cheaply made. She could probably punch her way out if she needed to.
(She probably does need to.)
But she can still hear the faint buzzing in her neck. The clockwork mechanical ticking of a device she'd forgotten was there, unused once replaced with a much more ingrained sort of programming, ticking away just as alive as before. She's conscious of it now, again. Of how it's so close to her skin she could almost definitely rip it out, but HYDRA scientists were smart and the neck is not such a good place to be ripping things out of, not by yourself. It's a reminder of the things they were running from. A reminder of how far they've come (run.)
And of course, that's not very far at all.
But anyway, the point is, she's pathetic and trapped. She can't escape. And besides, she doesn't even know where Bucky is.
Briefly, she wonders if the Weapon was ever in any of these sorts of situations, if not on purpose. Wonders if HYDRA had ever sent her on a mission where she stumbled, and if she failed any of them. The thought brings a strange sense of smug amusement to her, for some reason.
She's probably just been trapped here for too long.
What's the thing going to do with them, anyway? She's not sure she completely understands the situation to start with, on the whole. How is Ultron willing itself to do anything against its creator, anyway? It doesn't make sense, at least not to Kara.
How come the robot has enough to want for anything, when even she can't?
But that's not the point.
The point is, Kara is trapped. Again.
At least she remembers her damn name this time (for now.)
She can't do anything. Not yet. It's moving her somewhere. She can feel the slight shifting of the rolling wheels beneath her, and the ruggedness of the road, and the drone of the engine.
She tries not to think about how high the fall was. They've walked away from worse, she's sure of it.
Tries not to think about how stupid they've been, kidding themselves to think they could hide out forever.
In their defence, HYDRA didn't condition them to think. Just follow orders.
She tries not to dwell on the fact they'll probably be given new orders soon. It's not unlikely the robot will have managed to get the codewords or something. Not if it's managed to find them.
(She would wonder what these next orders will be, but she's got a pretty good hunch already — and here they were thinking they had all the time in the world to face the Avengers.)
Kara can spin circles round the Earth. And yet she's here. Trapped in a little box.
And when it stops, her neck itches.
The Avengers have been accommodating enough. They both have fresh, clean clothes now, fitted for practicality. They've been given a hot meal. They haven't been chained up.
(And really, that's all they can ask for.)
Here's the thing, though, just because they're on the same side now, doesn't mean Pietro has to like them. And he doesn't. He's pretty sure they don't like him, except maybe Captain Rogers.
But anyway, they're not here to make friends.
Wanda and he mostly keep to themselves on the flight over, aware of the wary glances shooting their way from the heroes. Wanda doesn't say much except when she meets his eyes he can tell she's scared. And angry.
Ultron is in Sokovia, their home.
He wonders what it's like now, if it's any different… if perhaps Strucker and his men actually did a damn thing and there was some truth to their lies and that all this time, he and Wanda haven't been suffering in cages for nothing. At the very least, he hopes it isn't worse.
Stark is nowhere near them, not even in the same room, and it's just the way he prefers it; but his creation… his Ultron Mark 2.0 is only three seats away from him, and two seats away from Wanda. It makes Pietro want to scream. And that stupid stone embedded in its head just glows there, orange, fiery, taunting.
Pietro may not have mysterious glowy powers like Wanda, but he can still feel it's power. Sheer, condensed power in its purest form.
That part makes Pietro kind of want to just roll over and die. It's too much. They should just destroy it and damn Stark and Strucker and Banner and all these fucking scientists who think that somehow they have the right to touch it.
The flight is too fast and yet not quick enough. In the sky, everything looks the same, so it's hard to tell how fast they're moving, but somehow, Pietro knows it would have been quicker, if it was him just on his own.
His knee vibrates up and down, thrilling with the need to keep moving, keep running, never slow down or stop, no matter how tired he is. His foot taps a quickstep beat on the floor, too fast to be audible except for a faint drone. When he glances beside him, Wanda is the same, hands clenched into tight fists, white-knuckled, and he remembers she saw what was in his mind. Ultron's gift to humanity.
The Black Widow alternates between sharpening her knives and reassembling her guns. Hawkeye sharpening his arrows. The God of Thunder is swinging his hammer about on its leather grip. Captain America is stands every so often, pacing, muttering little tactical things to himself. Bruce Banner is out of sight with Stark.
Vision does nothing. Sits, still, eyes open. An observer. It makes Pietro's skin prickle and for some reason he can't stand to look.
It's another hour before they land. Ultron better be ready.
The mission is very simple: be ready when the Avengers come and then kill them.
It's simpler than they've encountered before because there's no need to hide or be subtle, no need for covertness: this isn't HYDRA.
This is very strange because the Weapon is meant to be for HYDRA, except it's not. The Weapon is, well, a weapon, it does not take sides save for the one holding it.
Now the mission is even simpler because there aren't multiple conflicting factors to take into account. There is only one set of orders coming from one commander, that is Ultron, and Ultron only has one task for himself.
The Weapon sits in the middle of the city, on an old brick building, slightly crumbling with age (and not yet what's to come), watching as the civilian panic begins at the first sight of Ultron — all of him. Thousands of silver humanoid figures emerging out of the shadows, from every crevice. Ultron has done well, because there are children screaming and the police force are yelling, not ordered at all, and already there are masses beginning to form, people trampling over each other to nowhere, because Ultron has it planned that there will be no escapes. Total annihilation.
The ground rumbles and they can feel the starts of the of the land being pulled from the Earth, rising. The people can feel it too — not enough to know what is happening, but enough to fear it. The red eyes, the Weapon muses, are a good touch.
They can already hear the Avengers' jet, loud and blundering and disruptive in the air, heading towards them, just west from here. They are close now, maybe half an hour away, but it will be too late.
For now, though, the Weapon is just content to watch chaos.
Not far from here, Ultron keeps the Asset in his cage, locked up and out of sight. A failsafe is what Ultron calls it. But the Weapon has been in enough missions to know that a better word for this would be hostage.
It's rather clever, really, a hostage on two fronts. One, in the unlikely events that the Weapon fails, Captain Rogers will do anything to keep his old friend from further harm. Two, the Weapon is not ignorant, they are aware that her mission relies on programming, relies on HYDRA commands, and in that case, if it fails, that is where the Asset finds its use. It should not come to that, though, because the Weapon never fails.
It's destruction and noise and nothing looks the same as he remembers and yet it feels so familiar. The city they grew up in is falling before his eyes, even as it rises literally. There are masses of people running all over each other in their distress and disarray, and though Pietro doesn't think he recognises any, he maybe thinks he could.
Beneath them, the ground is unstable. To his left, he hears a building, a small school, creak. Pietro moves fast.
It's a small school, thankfully. One class — that he can see, at least — about thirty children. Two teachers. Pietro hope's he's fast enough.
They are under their desks, the children, some red-faced and crying, some just shaking in silent terror, all huddled together. One teacher is speaking furiously on the phone in rushed Sokovian, whilst the other teacher tries to calm the children, all utterly helpless.
The heli-carriers, which seems to have appeared from nowhere to rescue the civilians, are on the other side of the… land mass? Island? Though it shouldn't take Pietro long to get there, he only has two hands and there are so many of them, and it's much too dangerous out there for him to tell them to make their own way.
"Hello," he says, Sokovian familiar on his tongue, with a faux sort of confidence he hopes is reassuring. A few children shriek at his sudden appearance, which is fair considering he's a stranger, and all eyes turn to look at him. "I'm here to help."
There's not a lot of time — barely any at all, the building groans louder — so Pietro rushes through his explanation. "There is safety at the otherside of the city, where everyone is going. I can take you there…" And, just to prove his point, he speeds from where he stands at the doorway, to the other wall of the classroom. "Two at a time. We must hurry."
The teachers look at each other for a few seconds, one is young, maybe five — six years older than he is, and shaking, fists gripping the fabric of her yellow shirt tightly. The other is older, greying hairs tucked behind an old headband, and looks at all the children under their desks, and nods.
It's not like there are any better options.
He takes one child and the younger teacher first, who he assumes is to assure the childrens' safety at both ends. Both scream as they start running, over the debris of buildings which have not been so lucky to still be standing, through all the smoke and explosions. Pietro does not slow, he must not slow.
They reach the rescue party in about two and a half minutes. That's five minutes for the trip overall. He has to be faster.
He drops them off at the door, and stills his feet long enough for them to stand, and races back.
Faster, he thinks. Be faster!
Ultron has another enhanced on his side. A powerful woman who is just as fast as him, stronger than Captain America and maybe even on par with Thor and the Hulk. It makes things more complicated, because they weren't prepared.
Still, there are more of them. They have a god on their side. And his sister. He doesn't pay too much attention to the voices yelling through the earpieces the Avengers gave them. They all talk over each other anyway, and he has people to save, but he does hear, briefly, that Captain America and the Black Widow recognise her.
The class have already lined up in pairs near the entrance, ready and waiting for him, the other teacher near the back, the childrens' desks pushed closer to the door haphazardly for quick shelter if need be. If Pietro isn't fast enough.
And he has to be fast enough.
Pietro doesn't hesitate.
The Weapon focuses on the strongest, the big Hulk, and Thor, occasionally Iron Man. HYDRA's other experiment, the female who can manipulate the energies around her, is not part of the Avengers, from the data given to them, so the Weapon pays her no mind unless she interferes, which she does not, too busy with Ultron's army and not yet confident enough with her powers. Stark's other creation, the Vision, it does not recognise either, and Ultron has it occupied already, for now at least.
" — She knows Bucky!" it hears Captain America yell, "We can't kill her, Thor."
And the Weapon almost smiles at that. None of them could if they tried.
"I highly doubt that's the priority right now," answers Widow, going in for another one of Ultron's clones. "And I'm working on it."
The Weapon leaves them down on the ground with the rest of Ultron, and dodges another crack of lightning, eyes growing hot.
It's best saved until last, usually, for element of surprise, and it's not usually very subtle. But here, the mission does not require subtle, so the Weapon has been using it almost anywhere possible. Asgardian armour is strong, though. A challenge.
But the Weapon never fails.
" — Maybe it's like with Loki," says Hawkeye, and the Weapon bats away another arrow and aims a kick to Thor's skull as it explodes in the air, "A blow to the head might do the trick. She's got a hard head, though."
"Don't even think about trying that, idiots. And I'm working on it," repeats the Black Widow.
One of Thor's streaks of lightning aim true and hit, and the Weapon winces but keeps going, aiming now for the hand with the hammer — the source, it seems.
The Weapon aims another blast of heat vision towards Thor's exposed wrist, and, as expected, he drops the hammer with a yelp. And the god, it seems, does not know how to fly on his own. The Weapon knows just what to do with him, and before he can call it back to himself, the Weapon sends him arcing across the air, and hopefully over the edge of this floating city.
The Weapon turns to look down at the rest of them.
Iron Man rises up to meet them, as though the next challenger, and fires a blast from his repulsors. This will be easy.
The Weapon dodges, running on pure instinct rather than any sort of strategy. It isn't needed here, anyway. Right now, all it can think about is the movement of the air around it, the sound of oncoming motion, cracking the armour of obnoxiously painted alloy. The Weapon snarls as its shoulder gets hit, not enough to cause any damage, but enough to sting.
"Anytime now, Rushman," the Iron Man grits out, "whatever it is you're working on."
"It's—" starts the Widow, from the ground, in between fighting the other bots. "I just need to remember…"
The Weapon ignores them, and goes in for another blow, this time, a chunk of metal flies off the suit, and Iron Man darts away.
They meet in the middle, heat vision to a beam of pure energy from Stark's suit, but of course, the Weapon is winning.
"—nik," it hears the Widow muttering to herself, "I think it was sputnik."
And just like that, the Weapon falls.
Pietro gets the last teacher and child, just as the building collapses, and takes a moment as his feet pick up again to breathe a sigh of relief.
His job isn't over yet, he remembers. There might still be other civilians, perhaps trapped under rubble and their fallen homes, and the fight isn't over yet, besides. There is a father and daughter trapped in their car, the father has blood dripping down his face, unconscious. There is an old woman, fallen and unable to walk, an old man who cannot remember where he is or where he is going — Pietro finds he understands, a little.
He rejoins his sister and the Avengers, just as the enhanced woman goes down and Thor is returning to the fight, hammer called back to his hand. There aren't as many of Ultron anymore, and almost everyone has made it onto the rescue carriers, though there might still be some, and taking out the woman has certainly helped a lot.
Wanda is still stationed near the device keeping them afloat, the primary defence, and for a moment his chest seizes watching his sister — who's still twelve minutes younger than him — fighting with such power, before one of Ultron's bots try to fly at him and he only just dodges. Pietro runs that one through in retaliation.
"What's up," he yells to Wanda, across the battlefield.
"You are late," she responds without so much as batting her eye. "Now are you going to help or are you just going to stand there?"
Pietro smirks and takes down another three in a blink, which is good because they're really quite ugly things, and Wanda rolls her eyes at him and takes down five.
"You need to catch up," is all she says, and Pietro laughs.
It's strange, he finds, fighting side by side with the Avengers. But he finds himself falling into their sort of team rhythm, crashing and disorganised and messy. He keeps fighting, dancing around explosions and Thor's lightning, and Stark's repulsor blasts, and the Vision's… whatever the other powers he has are… and Captain Roger's shield, and bullets from the assassins, and Wanda's magic, steers clear of the Hulk of course. It doesn't mean he likes them, he tells himself, because they still caused this, but they are doing their best, he can admit that.
He's in the heat of it, running on adrenaline, unthinking, caught up in the chaos, when he hears it. On the ground, the woman screams, cutting something terrible in the air, and her eyes flash open, blazing.
For one held second, everyone seems to freeze.
And then twin beams of white-hot light hit Ultron dead-centre, and she lets out a roar of rage, and flies right at him, a force of raw power; and everyone falls back into the fray.
"Guess she's with us now," he hears Stark say, sounding mildly put out. The rest of them are still defending the device.
"Yeah," Captain Rogers is saying, relief clear in his voice. "Guess she is."
It takes Kara just a second to get her bearings and for her mind to catch up from the fog.
It's strange, coming back from it. Before it was more gradual, from Kara to HYDRA Weapon to something-else-maybe-Alex to Kara, but not the Kara from before. It's still her, she realises. It is still part of her, whatever she is now. It's like a switch. And maybe she's being irrational, but it still feels present in the back of her mind. Not even like something other, not quite a passenger, but just a part of her, ingrained — no, conditioned — tethered on at all times, and brought to the forefront with, what? A few spoken words?
The fight helps. Loud and easy to get lost in, pour out her energy and all her anger. Easy to let herself get overwhelmed in it; it always has been, she remembers that much, at least. There are civilians screaming still, and guilt tugs at her heart because she helped cause this, but Kara pushes it away. She will think about it later.
Right now, she needs to focus on her new mission.
She keeps an ear out, because the land — if it can be called that — is much to cluttered to use her X-ray vision — hoping to hear some sign of Bucky or even the Asset. Curses herself for being so stupid and curses the thing still in her neck that she has yet to rip out.
And Rao, Ultron, even though there's less of him, is still everywhere around her, and any moment now he could remember to activate the kill switch, or say the words again because curse her fucking super-hearing.
She dodges a shot from behind her and snags the bot closest to her and throws it hard enough that it catches three more ahead of it and they explode in mid-air. Uses her heat vision to get another row of them, slicing them clean through. Keeps an eye out for the Avengers on the ground, because some part of her feels the obligation to do so. Ignores Captain America everytime he tries to catch her eye.
Hawkeye is collecting a child, a little boy perhaps eight or nine, from beneath the rubble, when she hears the singing, in the low, murmuring, monotone which is Ultron.
"I have no strings, so I have fun; I'm not tied up to anyone…"
It's almost gentle, in a way, even as the rapid spittle of heavy gunfire starts, and Kara reacts before she thinks,
She drops through the air to her target in half a second and feels the hot bullets bouncing off her skin the next.
When she lets herself glance back, the Maximoff boy us there, ready to do the same, apparently, and perhaps a smidgen sooner. But he is not bulletproof, and Kara is. And when she pushes off the ground and into the air again, he starts to laugh.
"Well," she hears the Hawkeye say wryly, still clutching the child to his chest, "I guess we both weren't expecting that."
A/N - so who's gonna start the timer til the next update, or should I?