Edit 4/25/21: I've updated chapters 66 and 67, just rearranged a scene or two. Thank you for all your positive comments, I just hadn't liked the previous chapter because it had taken so long to write, and I realized I didn't like the pacing. I also very much dislike writing movie scenes straight out the same, so that changed too.

Chapter Sixty-Eight
✭

"Oh, this is bad," Tony Stark said as Novi Grad continued to rise higher and higher. "This is really bad."

I stood there, weak-kneed, staring up into the sky. At the gaping crater beneath. Bits of debris fell from the edges of the giant chunk of earth flying upwards — only, upon a second look I realized with horror that it wasn't debris, but entire buildings falling from the sky.

And the twins were up there. Everyone was up there.

With a burst of energy, Stark rose into the air. He sounded a little frantic as he turned in midair, looking down at us and saying, "Alright, I gotta go. You two, stay outta trouble!"

"What?" Howie blurted, alarmed as Tony Stark suddenly took off before either of us could do anything.

I realized only too late what he was doing. "Hey, you can't leave us here!"

"Sure can!" He called back, flying off towards the flying city.

"Jerk!" I shouted after him, at the same time Howie said, "Stronzo!"

I blinked down at Howie, taken aback by the foul language. "Swear jar."

Howie rolled his eyes, groaning in frustration. He threw up a hand at the quickly shrinking Iron Man. "We're not going to let him do that, are we? We can still help!"

"No, we're not," I said, looking back to the city, squinting as I tried to gauge the distance. We were a good five miles out, a distance which Howie could not manage on his little legs. And that's not counting how to get back up to the city. "How do you feel about being carried?"

Thankfully, Howie had no arguments, and was very lightweight. Enough to throw over my shoulder and start booking it through the forest. Howie held on for dear life, yelping in intervals whenever I leapt over a fallen log or jumped down a ditch. I was going as fast as I could, and with the extra motivation of an entire city being carried ever higher into the air, that was pretty fast. Trees and branches and rocks and underbrush flashed by in a blur. The only reason I didn't trip on anything was because my eyes were faster than my feet.

I couldn't say it was a particularly comfy trip, how much up and down there was. One particularly rough jump induced a particularly loud "Oof!" Out of Howie, the air knocked out of his lungs.

We reached the outer wall of the city — it had crumbled in all the quaking and shakes that the initial rupture had caused. If it was that bad below ground, I could only imagine what it must have been like up here. I hopped over the rubble, and landed in the outskirts of Novi Grad. It was completely deserted, thankfully, no one around. This part of the city had been successfully evacuated, at least. But as we got closer and closer to the crater, I started to hear a noise, this terribly loud noise that got louder and louder, even greater than the wind rushing past my head.

I couldn't figure out what it was at first. The closet thing it sounded like was a jet engine, but I couldn't see a source. Whatever it was, it was big, big enough that I should've spotted it by now.

Then I looked up.

In the shadow of the flying city, we stood directly under the impossibly-huge underbelly. But it wasn't completely dark. There was metal — great circles, like exhaust pipes, white-hot blaze spitting out. I could feel the heat even from here.

I was so busy looking up that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. It wasn't until Howie called out did my eyes drop back to earth, and I gasped. I skidded to a stop, meters from the edge of the crater. It was massive; a half mile wide and nearly a quarter mile deep, it was all just dirt, rock, and stone that deep, deep black earth that felt horribly deep. Just looking at it drove a stake of vertigo through my heart.

Panting hard, I stumbled back. Although I wasn't close to falling in, the ground slanted drastically, cobblestone's disappearing into a sheer drop. Not fun.

"Hey! Kids! Over here!"

Startled, I spun around (Howie groaned with nausea). About three hundred feet back, nestled behind a half-collapsed shop was a tent set-up, and in the open street hovered a wide, flat aircraft, open-air like a searaft. It was piloted by a man in the rear, but at the aft a man waved, megaphone in hand, gesturing us to come over.

The man in the craft stared down at us, brows furrowed. "You with the Avengers, right? Rebel Columbia?"

"Yep, that's me," I said, pausing to help Howie down. Too woozy to stand on his feet, Howie fell back on his butt. "ULTRON had him captive, can you help?"

"Over there," The man pointed to one of the tents. Behind him, people were still being unloaded from the life raft. Men, women, and children. Some a little shaken, some much worse, carried away in stretches or in arms. "They can look him over. If you're wanting to head up to the city, you've got five minutes before this one takes off."

It was a triage center, I realized, as I helped Howie over. Tents pitched just far enough away from the rising city to avoid falling debris, but close enough that the constant rotation of hovercrafts was quick and convenient. The air was cloudy with all the dust the engines kicked up, as well as the wheels of the trucks and vans and ambulances that drove in and out with injured civilians, buses carting more away.

Inside was chaos, lots of injured people on tables and chairs and stretchers and whatever other flat surfaces they could find. Howie paled at the sight of some, but a woman was already checking him over for injuries, trying to determine how severe it was. I was just about to leave when Howie grabbed my sleeve. "Wait, I want to go back up with you!"

"What? No way." I shook my head immediately. Aside from the fact Howie was an unarmed twelve-year-old, he was currently half-deaf and I'd probably end up as superhero babysitter. Which was not something I wanted to be while fighting robots and saving people. "You're gonna be safe down here. Things are dangerous enough as it is."

Howie pouted, unhappy with the decision, and the medic was also uninterested in letting him get away. "You're not going anywhere, young man. Now how many fingers am I holding up?"

After making sure they knew who Howie was, I turned back outside, running over to the raft just as the last of the refugees were being unloaded. I took the offered hand that helped me onboard, not seeing who it was until I was on my feet again. Looking up, I was surprised to see familiar braids and warm eyes. "Dr. Siwa? What're you doing here?"

"Well, what does it look like?" The man chuckled, patting his hands together. Dr. Siwa looked almost alien in a pair of dungarees and a white henley covered in dirt, completely opposite of the neat suits I've always seen him wear in our sessions. "I got the call, and I answered. SHIELD may not still be standing anymore, but we're still around."

As the ship started to rise, we sat on the benches to keep from falling over. My stomach lurched a little as the rooftops grew smaller beneath us. "How are things looking right now?"

"In terms of rescue efforts?" Dr. Siwa scratched his chin. He was unshaven, also new for him. "I'd say we've got about another thousand civilians still trapped up there. We've been going as fast as we could, but these rafts can only take about fifty at a time, seventy if we squeeze in real tight. There're three different evacuation points on the rock, where people are gathered, but we suspect there's more still trapped in the city itself. Right now, the Avengers are focused on breaking down ULTRON's defense and ensuring safe passage for us. As far as I know, a way to bring the city back down — safely — hasn't been found yet."

Wind whipped into our faces, throwing hair every which way. Looking at Dr. Siwa was the only thing keeping me from making the big mistake of looking down.

"Every moment the city continues to rise," Dr. Siwa continued. "At a rate of about two feet per second. We've got a limited window before people up there start running out of oxygen to breathe. The kids and the elderly are the most vulnerable with their lungs, they're already starting to pass out from the nitrogen sickness. We've noticed its slowing, though, so ULTRON may intend to stop it somewhere in the upper troposphere. High enough that if this were to drop," He said pointing up at the nearing flying rock. "It will cause a worldwide catastrophe. No amount of people we save is going to matter if we don't stop this somehow."

My stomach dropped out at the notion, horrified. The flying city was the size of a small asteroid — the kind that probably took out the dinosaurs. ULTRON wasn't kidding. "He's really trying to wipe out humanity."

Dr. Siwa nods seriously, coming to a stand as the lift slows. Meters upon meters of black rock opens up to underground tunnels, pipes and support beams, to layers of cobblestone and concrete, crumbling buildings and a crowd of terrified Sokovians, clutching each other, calling out when they see the raft appear.

The raft carefully maneuvered to the open landing space, and I came to a rise. Dr. Siwa followed me to the edge. "I'll do what I can. And, uh," I made a face. "Is this gonna come up in our next session?"

Dr. Siwa chuckled, patting me on the shoulder. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Now be safe."

I didn't wait for the raft to land before jumping off. I helped Siwa with getting those around me on board; indeed, the air up here was freezing and getting thin, and some of the kids I helped carry were already struggling to keep consciousness. Dr. Siwa had boxes of oxygen masks and helped pass them around to those most in need. Dr. Siwa couldn't speak Sokovian, but I could, and I did my best to assure and explain the situation to those I could. But then the raft was full and I had to get off. There were still more people waiting, and I couldn't imagine how many left still trapped somewhere in the city. Once Dr. Siwa gave me the nod, I took that as my cue to get to work.

There weren't many drones here; I hadn't even noticed until I left the evacuation zone, running along the edge of the city, and immediately ran into one trying to ambush me out of an alleyway. I ducked just in time, pulling out my shield to smash it against a brick wall. Then I remembered I still had my earpiece, and spoke into it, "Alright, I'm up on the city. Where do you need me?"

"Rebel!" Steve's voice came through. I almost didn't recognize the call sign, he's never used it with me before. "Need you on the south edge, we've got a collapsing bridge with civilians still trapped in their cars."

"Copy that." Redirecting, I made a beeline in that direction — I knew what bridge he was talking about. Normally, it would go over a river, but that river was somewhere thousands of feet below. I tried not to think too hard about that part. Aside from the rumble beneath my feet and the clouds shifting at eye-level, it wasn't wholly obvious that I was running across a flying city.

Drones flew overhead, and all I had to do was follow them to the main fight at the southern edge of the city — there were plenty of cars here, stopped and overturned and abandoned. The movement of the flying city had them all over the place so I had to jump up and hopscotch over their hoods to get through in a quick manner. Ahead, I saw Steve struggling to pull a sedan back from the brink, a terrified couple stuck in the front seats.

I scrambled over as fast as I could, taking a drone blast off my shield before skidding to a stop next to Steve. He looked up in surprise when my hands joined his around the rear bumper, and together we dragged the car back onto solid ground. Below, the piece of metal the sedan had been hanging onto finally fell away, disappearing into the great open air below.

"Thanks!" Steve had to shout over the wind and the noise of battle behind us. There was a flash of lightning from Thor, a beam of light from Iron Man. "How was it below?"

We helped the couple out of the car, but that's when I made the mistake of glancing over the edge. "It was —"

I didn't get a chance to finish, the sudden vertigo hitting me like a runaway truck. We were over a mile above ground now, and the world seemed so incredibly small — and looking down, I was overcome with a very familiar sensation.

Instead of mountains and a crater, though, I saw a great blue river rushing to meet my face.

My breath lodged in my throat, fear taking over my body and freezing me in place, before my knees crumpled beneath me. I didn't even hear Steve call out my name until I felt his hands around my shoulders, drawing me away from the edge, the memory of being thrown off the helicarrier.

"Mia!" Steve's voice cracked through my thoughts, and I shuddered, eyes squeezing shut. When I opened them again, he was there, kneeling down next to me, face to face, his expression etched with concern. "Mia, are you okay? You with me?"

"I-I," the stammer came unbidden, my breath coming in short gasps. My hand clutched at my chest, heart pounding too fast. I didn't expect to have such a strong reaction. I thought my reluctance to being carried by Stark while flying had just been a general distrust, but clearly that was no longer the case. "I'm okay. I think I'm okay."

Steve didn't look wholly convinced. "Are you sure? Because you can still help on the ground if that's better —"

"No! No, I'm fine," I insisted. Maybe I could help on the ground, but I'd be more useful up here. I also wanted to avoid being guilt-tripped by an angry but alive Howie. "I can still fight. There's still people trapped up here, right?"

"Yes, there's buildings in the marketplace that haven't been evacuated yet." Steve said, helping me back to my feet and carefully walking me back from the edge. He pointed in the direction, but I already knew which marketplace it could be. "We haven't been able to reach them between structural collapse and drone coverage. If you can help get them out, we'll be able to get everyone off this rock faster."

"What's the plan for this?" I asked, frowning at Steve. "Is there a way of setting this back down safely?"

"Well," Steve tried to sound diplomatic, but the way he made a face said that he was highly doubtful of the possibility. "We're still looking into that. Iron Man says ULTRON's engine spreads all throughout the underground of the city. If it can't be disabled…"

He didn't finish. But I heard nonetheless. If they couldn't control the flight of Novi Grad, they'd have to destroy it.

Which made getting everyone off all the more important.

"I understand." I said at length, swallowing, but my throat was dry. "The twins?"

"Moving throughout. Quicksilver's helping with evacuation, Witch with the offense. I haven't heard anything from her in a bit. If you can find her, see if she's okay, that would be a great help."

"Got it," I said, biting my lip. I hoped Wanda was okay, I could only imagine what it was like to witness your hometown being utterly mutilated like this.

Steve let me go with a final pat on the back, and I had no complaints running further into the city, away from getting another debilitating case of vertigo and flashbacks.

I knew these streets. I knew them even when they were ruined and crumbling, some parts on fire, some flooded, some littered with drone bodies or bricks or cars. Novi Grad, once war-torn by decades of battles fought by other countries, now falling apart by a crazy AI hellbent on eradicating all of human civilization. People's homes and livelihoods, collapsing all around me.

It was heartbreaking. Wanda and Pietro had wanted so much for Sokovia, wanted to make it better. Novi Grad had always been their home. And now it seemed like there wouldn't be a Novi Grad left for them to return to.

If we even survived this.

The further I got away from any particular fight, the quieter my feet echoed across the abandoned buildings. I winced and hit the deck every time a drone flew past. I didn't want to get slowed down by a fight as I made my way to the marketplace.

The same place I first ran into Wanda. Looking over fruit, trying to make those few kopeks last.

Only now there were no fruit stands, no open cafes, no guards on the rooftops. I did, however, hear people calling out from inside a nearby building. The front part of the storefront had collapsed, leaving no door or window to escape from. Looking at it, I saw no obvious way inside.

I had just stepped out into the open when I heard a repulsor blast, and threw myself forward. Behind me, the ground exploded. Scrambling to get behind my shield, I looked up to see a drone diving for me like a hawk for its prey.

It fired another shot, deflected off my shield, and attempted to snatch me off the ground.

It grabbed my shield but I was faster, whipping it around with my arms to smash the drone into the ground. The impact didn't destroy it — not until I stomped on its throat, before using the edge of my shield to sever it. Without the head, the beast was dead.

Without waiting around for another drone to take me out, I closed the remaining distance between me and the collapsed building. I called out and received a collective response — it sounded like there were at least ten people inside, maybe more. I did a quick circuit around before finally finding some loose brick and boards, and started pulling them away. I had no idea if this would cause the building to collapse further, but I was all alone out here and I didn't have a lot of time to fuck around. I listened to the voices inside, ready to stop in case something happened and they panicked.

But after pulling a worn plank of wood, I came across an empty hollow. Then a face appeared, a woman, panting in the fresh air. Then hands from the inside, pulling away the loose rubble.

"How many are inside?" I called out in Sokovian. "Is anyone hurt?"

"About a dozen," a man inside replied, his voice echoing. I couldn't see him through the darkness within. "We've got a man with a broken leg — there's a support beam on top of him we can't move without risking the building falling on top of us."

"Alright, let's get you guys out first," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and confident. If I sounded worried, they'd get worried. We widened the hole, just big enough to wiggle through. The kids came out first — two, mostly unharmed besides being covered in dust, then their parents, and more after that. Only two remained.

Then it was my turn to go inside.

It was so cramped in there I was surprised that so many people could fit inside. The ceiling was so low I had to hunch over to nearly my waist, and the dust from all the movement made me cough. But my eyes could still see in the darkness, and I saw two figures, crouched low in the far corner of the room, waving to me. I scrambled over, squinting through the dust.

"Over here!" The second figure was a woman, appearing unharmed. And spoke in English. British English. "Please help us — he can't move!"

Getting closer, I couldn't believe I recognized them. It was hard to say who was more surprised to see the other. "Frink? Crain?"

"Rebel?" They said in unison, the journalist and photographer duo that I had first encountered in this very city at the start of the civil war. Smiles of relief spread across their faces.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked, as I examined the situation. The support beam was ten square inches of solid wood, the upper end holding up what remained of the ceiling, keeping it from falling over the rest of the room. Frank Crain's leg was trapped beneath, dark with blood, and his glasses were cracked and covered in dust. I was surprised he could even see through them. "Didn't I help you guys get out of Sokovia?"

"Yes, but we had to come back," Julia Frink replied. She still had the recorder in her fist. I wondered if it was still on. "Do a follow-up story on the civil war. We got trapped here — again — when ULTRON rose to power."

"Well, you guys have some shit luck."

Crain laughed wryly, although it was tinged with deep pain. "Yeah, you're telling us. Like the new shield."

"Thanks, it's a rental." I said as I maneuvered myself to crouch against the back wall, where the support beam was taking most of the ceiling's weight. I lifted my shield over my head; it should help support the ceiling while I moved the beam. "Okay, when I lift, I want you to drag him out, okay? Fast as you can, on the count of three. Ready?"

The two nodded, eyes wide with fear. Julia readied herself behind Frank, slipping her arms under his in preparation. I took a deep breath, steeling the muscles in my neck, shoulders and legs for the lift while counting down. On three, I put all I could into lifting the beam — it, and the weight of the building, was tremendous. Pieces of paint, drywall, and rock rained down as the ceiling shifting. Pain shot down my shoulders and back from the sheer strength it took, like Atlas trying to hold up the world.

Centimeter by centimeter, I slowly lifted the beam off of Frank's leg. As soon as he gasped, Julia yanked backwards, dragging him out, and I kept the beam up until I saw his foot clear it. All at once, I let go, and the building creaked and groaned in response, the debris raining down harder.

From the shuddering around me, I could sense a collapse imminent. "Hurry, it's gonna go!"

Frank's leg was too badly injured for him to stand — I took him from Julia, urging her to get out. With my shield, it was best I was the last out; I could withstand a ton of bricks falling on my head, they could not. Frank cried out as I lifted him up his leg twisting as I helped him through the hole, hands on the other side carrying him out.

Behind me, I felt the crash as the first piece of wall came crumbling down, and practically threw myself out just as the bricks above cracked, and the whole building came down in an explosion of dust.

I hit the ground hard, surprised when multiple hands were already helping me up before I had the chance to recover.

One of them, Pietro, looking alarmed to see me. His suit had already maintained some damage, scratches on his elbows and shoulders. The human pinball. "When did you get up here?"

"Like twenty minutes ago," I said, although I wasn't exactly sure. Looking around, I saw all the people I pulled out of there, standing or sitting on the ground away from the collapsed building. "C-can you help these guys get to the evacuation points? It's too far for them to walk alone."

"Sure, but," Pietro scanned the area nervously. "Have you seen Wanda? I haven't heard from her in a while. I don't know if she's okay."

"I haven't," I admitted, and my worry for her grew. "Where was she last?"

"Near the school by the shul, that way," Pietro said, pointing. "But I've checked, there's no one there, no one that needs to be saved."

"I'll see what I can do," I said, gesturing to the survivors. "Get them out of here while I look. She's around here somewhere, I know it."

Pietro nodded, but his brow knotted in worry. "Okay, but be careful. I'm not losing both of you."

After making sure the civilians were okay being left alone while Pietro zipped back and forth, I took off again. My lungs were starting to burn with the effort of running, pulling in less oxygen than I was used to at ground level. My blood was working double-time just to keep me moving.

The school was a large, wide building with gates and a front yard; but the gates had since been torn apart and the playground had fallen to pieces, the sandbox ruptured. I wasted a solid ten minutes going inside and checking every damn classroom, bathroom, and closet for any sign of Wanda or trapped civilians. The place was completely empty. The streets, however, were filled with drones — at least a dozen of them who all turned at me at once — forcing me to duck and cover as I tore across the street.

I deflected their blasts and did my best to fight them off. Throwing my shield, knocking one back, bashed the shield through the chest of another, almost got my head blown off in the process — but there were too many of them. I had to inch my way around the cover of an overturned produce truck.

The shul was nearby. It was a low structure with stained-glass windows — which had all been blown out when I found it, a car crashed into its front doors.

It was the closest cover I could find, and after throwing myself across the hood of the sedan, tumbled through the doors on the other side.

My extremely graceful landing of falling ass over teakettle had made such a noise that it earned a squeak — from someone cowering against the wall beneath the shattered windows. I hadn't realized anyone was even inside here, I hadn't heard anything until now.

But there she was. Wanda, curled up under the broken windows. Hands over her mouth and tears trailing down her cheeks. I was so surprised to see her that for a hot second I didn't even move, just gaped at her like an idiot. "Wanda? Wanda! What's wrong?"

"It's my fault, it's all my fault," Wanda shook her head, shying away when I pulled in close. Her breath came in fast and uneven.

"What? No, no it's not your fault," I recognized the signs of a panic attack as well as if it were one of my own. I'd just never seen Wanda have one, and to say it scared me was more than an understatement. It was like seeing a parent cry. It just felt wrong. "Is this where you've been hiding? Pietro's been worried sick over you —"

"I-I cannot go out there," she choked on a sob as I helped her upright, hands on her shoulders. "It's too much. I did this, I let this happen!"

This time, I couldn't keep the fear out of my throat. We couldn't stay here, it was too dangerous. "Wanda, please, look at me —"

I was interrupted by a loud crash. Someone came flying through the opposite window — he grunted, landing hard on his back before rolling over on his side. Wincing, Clint picked himself up, squinting at us in confusion. "...sorry, is this hiding spot taken?"

When the joke got no reaction, Clint frowned, realizing something was very wrong. His eyes flicked between the two of us, getting back to his knees and crawling over to the wall next to us. "What's going on? You guys okay?"

We both shook our heads, Wanda letting out another tiny sob. I held her to my chest, unsure of what to do as I looked to Clint beseechingly, "I think she's having a panic attack."

"Oh, no, I've been there," Clint closed his eyes and nodded in understanding. A blast hit the side of the building, making us flinch, and he fired a quick shot through the window, before turning back to us and saying, "First missions are always the hardest."

"It's our fault!" Wanda cried back, clearly not comforted. It wasn't the mission. "We did this!"

"Whoa now, look at me," Clint said, pointing from her eyes to his. "It's your fault, it's her fault, it's everyone's fault. Who cares? Are you up for this? Both of you?" When he didn't get a response, Clint urged, "Are you?"

"I don't know." Wanda whispered, curling up against me.

"Look, I get it," Clint said. "I just need to know. Because this city is flying. We're fighting against an army of robots… and I have a bow and arrow. None of this makes sense."

He paused to take another shot out the window, and I heard rather than saw the following explosion of a drone taken out. Clint dropped back down again, adding, "But I'm going back out there because it's my job, okay? And I can't do my job and babysit. It doesn't matter what you did or what you were. If you go out there, you fight, and you fight to kill. Stay in here, you're good. Mia can get you to the evacuation ships and get you out of here. But if you step out that door — you are an Avenger."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Wanda and Pietro were here to fix what went wrong, all under the impression that they were here because the Avengers let them. Not because they were trying to join.

Wanda had stopped crying out of sheer surprise. Even I was impressed. "Wow, that's good."

"Thanks," Clint smiled weakly, bobbing his head once before getting back to his feet. "If things don't work out, get her out of here, alright?"

I nodded, and we watched as Hawkeye jumped out the door, already firing another volley of arrows. Wanda slumped in my arms, wiping at her face. "God, I feel so stupid…"

"You're not stupid," I said, dropping back to give her some space to recover. "You're one of the bravest people I know."

She threw me a watery smile, before biting her lip and looking away. "Is he right?"

"Which part? The 'not your fault' part or the 'Avenger' part?" I asked, wondering if the latter applied to me, too. I wasn't the one who needed the pep talk, though. "I think he meant both."

"I cannot be an Avenger, I'm not — I have not deserved it,"

"Why not?" I asked with a shrug. "Stark is an Avenger, and I'm sure he's done plenty worse than you ever did. The Black Widow probably, too. But they both made a choice. And now you do, too."

Her dark eyes scanned my face for a moment, before nodding. She swallowed thickly, coughing a little as she struggled to her feet. Her hands still shook, even as she clenched them into fists. "I am not — I won't — I cannot leave. Not until this is done. Will you… will you stay with me?"

"Always," I said with a smile.

Wanda closed her eyes, took a deep, steadying breath, hands flexing at her sides. When she opened them again, her irises glowed red.

"He will not take my city," she said, and there was no more tremble in her voice.

With that, Wanda turned towards the blocked door, and with a flick of her fingers, blasted the car out of the way. The vehicle went flying, taking out several drones in the process.

Clint, on the other side, whipped around to watch Wanda step out. She cast a casual shot, taking out another drone coming up on the right, while I emerged behind her, blocking a shot coming in from the left. Wanda's head snapped in that direction, and she drew up the car again and smashed the drone against the wall, bisecting it neatly. Clint took out two more with an arrow each, and I charged another, sweeping my shield arm like a gladiator and decapitating it. Kicking another in the chest, slamming it over the hood of the produce truck, before cleaving it apart with the shield in a single blow. Wanda grabbed another with a spell directly, tore it to pieces, and used those pieces to destroy another one.

In moments, the street was clear of drones, broken pieces falling around us. Mostly because of Wanda.

Silence fell over the streets, filled only with the sound of our collective heavy breathing. Clint looked at each of us and nodded once. "Glad to see you joined us. Cap, we're clear over here."

"We are not clear!" Steve called back through the comm links, sounding a little preoccupied. "We are very not clear!"

"Alright, we're coming to you —" Clint was interrupted by a sudden flash of silver.

Pietro suddenly appeared, picking Wanda up in his arms before darting off again, nearly clipping Clint across the shoulder. "Keep up, old man!"

"Agh, you little shit —" Clint cursed and stumbled from the near miss, and then turned to me with a look of betrayal. "Are you laughing?"

"No," I lied, while snorting behind a hand.

"Oh, well, that's very nice of you," Clint replied sarcastically, dusting off his sleeves. "Laughing while some punk knocks around an poor guy like me, real noble of you —"

He didn't get the chance to finish before Pietro returned for me. Clint called out some insult, but it was lost to the wind as I was carried away, too. I didn't even know where he was taking me until Pietro deposited me at the edge of the city, right next to Wanda, already fighting off a phalanx of drones. Behind us were a line of police officers doing their best to cover the flanks. Wanda, unsurprisingly, was doing most of the work for them, tearing apart drone after drone like it was nothing.

After catching my breath and finding my balance, I turned to Pietro. "You're not gonna go back for Hawkeye?"

Pietro threw me a funny look. "What for?"

I just shrugged. Seemed kinda mean to make Clint jog the entire way here on his own, but he'd probably get here eventually. Behind us, the police captain raised his fist, calling for his men to hold their fire. Only one was a little too trigger happy, and kept shooting just as Pietro was about to jump into the fray.

The bullet grazed his arm before pinging off my shield. The both of us whipped around, annoyed, and the offending officer had the decency to wince in embarrassment.

"Glad to see you guys still with us," Steve called, running over to us. Covered in soot and grime, he was even worse than when I left him; behind him came in Natasha, her hair a little mussed, electric escrima sticks in either hand. "Things are not getting better up here. The next wave will be coming in soon. And we still have civilians that need to be evacuated."

"SHIELD — or what's left of it — is doing what they can," Natasha added, glancing towards a nearby lifeboat taking on another load of passengers. "But this thing isn't going to stop on its own. The core of the engine is located in the center of this rock, in what used to be an old church. Thor and Vision currently have a hold of the area, but they're going to need our help. ULTRON cannot get to it, no matter what. Understand?"

Seeing a chorus of nods, Steve added, "Good, get there as fast as you can. Stark says all the civilians still up here are now waiting for evacuation. Rebel, Witch, you stay here to make sure the rest get off safely, Hawkeye will be joining you soon. Quicksilver, take one last perimeter check to make sure there aren't any stragglers. I'll get to the core and you guys meet me there when you're done. Remember, use your commlinks if you run into too much trouble."

"The city," Pietro said, brow furrowing in worry. "Can we save it?"

Steve didn't answer immediately. Just heaved a sigh, head bowing for a moment. "To be honest, I don't know. Stark is working on possible angles, but ULTRON's built his engine so thoroughly that anything we might do could make it worse. But right now our focus is on saving as many people as possible."

Pietro and Wanda exchanged glances, dismay and horror. The possibility remained that Novi Grad was essentially gone, or left much smaller than it once was. No matter what happened, it would never be the same again.

Perhaps sensing their doubt, Steve added, "No matter what happens, we're not going down without a fight. If we go down, we take ULTRON with us. If you want to back out now, this is your last chance."

"No," Pietro said, throwing his shoulders back. "We are in this."

"To the end," Wanda added.

At last, Steve looked at me. "Mia?"

I blinked, not realizing I was being asked, too. I thought it was obvious what my answer was, but I spoke anyway, shrugging. "I'm grounded either way. Can't get any worse."

Steve cut me a wry smirk. "Good to know."

With that, Pietro took off, and Wanda ran over to help usher survivors onto the life rafts. Natasha had already disappeared, and Steve had failed to mention what she would be doing, but I imagined it would be something very deadly. I was just about to go after Wanda when Steve stopped me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Mia, wait."

I paused, turning to him and seeing his concern. "What is it?"

"Are you —" Steve stumbled over his words. Rare for him. "Are you sure about this? Because if this is the end, I can't — I can't bring you home. Your family, your dad —"

"They know the choice I made," I said, when I realized what Steve was getting at. That there was a very good chance I might die today. But then, so would the rest of the world. "They know why I did this. And I'm… if this is it, at least I'm still me, right?"

Me.

Not the Soldatka.

Not anyone else. Just me.

Amelia Miriam Fletcher. Rebel Columbia.

If I died, it would be my choice.

Mine. No one else's.

Steve studied me for a long moment, absorbing that answer, looking more than a little distressed. Then he nodded once, maybe he understood what that choice meant for me. There was a time when I wouldn't have died as myself, and he had been there.

"I guess my point is, you should've never have had to make that kind of choice," Steve finally said, and took a deep breath. Maybe I was imagining how shaky it sounded. "I'm so sorry. I never should've brought you into this."

"Well, I'm here now," I said, raising my arms before letting them flop at my side. I couldn't help but smile a little. "And something tells me I would've gotten involved anyways."

Steve chuckled, that old resigned laugh that I'd gotten very used to this past year. "Yeah, I suppose you do have a slightly annoying habit of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Only slightly?" I asked, feigning offense, but I knew he was just teasing. Making light of a grim situation, otherwise it would be too hard to deal with. "I'm disappointed in myself."

"I'm not," Steve said, in a way that took me off guard. Because he didn't sound like he was joking again. His hand, still on my shoulder, squeezed tightly and he held my gaze. "Whatever happens next, I just want you to know — I'm proud of you, Mia. I'm proud to have you by my side today. I never got to tell you that before, but you need to hear it. Because it's true."

By that point, I was blinking back tears. I really didn't expect to get emotional right now, and I was pretty helpless when it came to overwhelming emotions. I tried to think of something to say. What could you say to that? Thanks? Much appreciated? No, that's stupid. I didn't have the kind of brain cells required for the right words.

But I did have arms, very useful for hugs, which was what I did then, hugging Steve one last time. Maybe the last time.

"I'm glad you're here, too," I whispered, voice hoarse. Because I didn't want to die. But if I had to, Steve being here would make it easier to face.

Steve returned the hug, letting the moment linger before patting my back, and I could finally recede without bursting into tears. Try and make a quick getaway while I still could, to save face.

"You're gonna be fine out there," Steve gave me one last smile before I took off. "Knock 'em dead, kid."