As the quinjet had neared the museum where the gala was being held, Clint patched Jarvis through from his cell to the jet's coms to free both hands for the landing.
"Agent Barton, I am trying to get through to Captain Rogers, but you should be aware that Agent Romanoff is currently alone in the west wing. Mr. Stark and Miss. Potts are on the roof; also someone is approaching their location from the stairwell."
"Can you get me over the roof?" Bucky had come up alongside Clint. "I can jump."
"You want to jump?" Clint demanded.
"I can make it. Just open the hatch and I'll get down there."
"...Mr. Stark has just requested his suit. I could hear gunshots in the background of the call," added Jarvis.
Clint gave a curt nod to Bucky. "Okay." The museum was in sight now. "Hold on!" he yelled back to the others, as Bucky moved towards the rear of the jet. He slammed on the hatch button and could hear the rush of wind as it opened. As he held the jet steady over the roof, he looked back, saw Bucky take a running leap and disappear. He didn't have time to hang around and see the outcome. He shut the hatch again and maneuvered the jet out away from the roof and then down.
It was a tricky landing: space in the road limited, cars still driving past. He had to keep the jet steady, giving the cars enough time to see the landing jet and break. He felt a thud as one wing scrapped against several parked cars and saw a truck swerve to avoid him. As the jet came to a rest, he turned to the others.
"We don't have a lot of time," he said quickly, "The Soldiers are here and going after the Avengers and I-, I owe them, I'm going in." He got up and grabbed his bow and quiver. "But this isn't what any of you signed up for and it's not your fight. If any of you want to sit this out you can take the jet and meet Fury with the scepter."
Wanda opened her mouth at once, he suspected her thoughts on Bucky, but then she shut it again and glanced towards Pietro. He flicked his gaze down to his hands, and in a tone more subdued that normal said, "We will help." He looked to Wanda and nodded. "We will."
Brock gave a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. "I'm hardly going to go off to meet Fury on my own, that would be even more suicide that this. But uh, what about him?" He nodded towards Strucker.
"He's not going anywhere. But just in case…" Clint grabbed the scepter and slotted it into his quiver.
"Agent Barton," came Jarvis's voice. "Mr. Stark's suit is nearly there. It is bringing Roger's shield. If it meets you at the door, can you deliver it to the Captain?"
"We're on it." And with that the group headed out onto the street.
There were already people running from the building, but they managed to push through. As they ran up the stone steps to the entrance, Clint heard a familiar sound overhead. The Ironman suit flew past above them and something round and red and silver fell from it. Brock, nearest, grabbed the falling shield. Clint grinned. "I guess that means you're on delivery duty." Brock looked less than pleased.
Pepper hadn't been wrong. Natasha had taken a breather. It was something she would never have explained to the others. Clint had understood, but the idea of trying to make Steve or Tony understand, she rejected out of hand.
She was trained to always assess, to always watch, to always be on the alert for potential threats. In every situation, her brain was looking for exits, for weapons, for openings. It had been drilled into her as a child, drilled in until it became second nature, a part of her brain she couldn't turn off. To be in a room filled with people, those threats, those weapons, those openings, were everywhere. It was exhausting.
Of course she could handle it. Of course if she had had to stay at the reception she could have done it and no one would have been one fraction the wiser of the strain. But there was a flicker of satisfaction in being free, in being able to take a little time to herself, to re-center her mind and relax.
It had been Clint who taught her to take advantage of that freedom, she reflected, as she grabbed a champagne glass off a passing waiter and ducked beneath a rope which blocked off the rest of the building. It had been Clint who showed her the freedom she had once she joined Shield, and Clint who'd given her that freedom in the first place.
She walked through several rooms, idly surveying the artwork. She would finish her glass and then return to the party. A smile twitched as she thought about what Tony would likely have to say about her disappearance. It was going to be fun. She'd make sure to find him when she went back.
Moving from pictures into an exhibit on Roman artifacts, she wandered down a hallway lined with busts and glass cases filled with ancient armor and weapons. She paused halfway, in front of one display, and surveyed the assortment of ancient arrowheads and shield fragments.
How far the world had come, and yet how much the same it still remained…
Vaguely it crossed her mind that she could hear sounds far off, from the direction of the reception, that hadn't been there a few minutes ago.
She took a sip, and with a frown, strained her ears to try to place it.
And then, while no observer would have seen her stiffen or give any indication, every sense went on the alert, for just faintly, in the reflection of the glass, she saw movement, two figures behind her. One of them seemed to raise an arm, and she threw herself into a roll just as the shots rang out, shattering the glass case she had been standing in front of only a fraction of a moment ago.
As she rolled, she grabbed the small gun strapped high up on her thigh (Tony was an idiot if he actually believed she'd go anywhere without a weapon), and ending her roll shot towards the man and woman standing at the end of the hall. They both ducked behind displays. The man pointed his gun round the corner and shot out a flurry of bullets. Natasha rolled again. As she moved, the pair took the opportunity to advance.
The woman raised a palm and a bolt of electricity caught Nat in her side. She spasmed, her brain torn between pushing through it and trying to figure out how the woman had done that. She crawled back, reaching for cover-
An arrow shot past, embedding itself in the ceiling above the advancing pair. Her two attackers looked up, saw blinking red, and threw themselves back, just as a booming explosion rang out and the ceiling came crashing down, concrete and shattered relics blocking the hallway and dust filling the air.
"Nat!" There were footsteps and suddenly she was staring up at Clint. "Are you hurt?"
"Clint?" She struggled to take in the reality of him, right there in front of her after the months of denial, anger, and…well, where she was now. It was impossible to properly wrap her mind around. To see him standing over her, looking exactly as he had on so many missions.
He froze for a second as he saw her reaction and she saw a crashing wave of doubt and guilt cross his face and could practically see the moment he shoved them away, placing her above his own uncertainty. "Are you hurt?" he asked again.
"I'm fine. But I'm pretty sure you just took out a bust of Calligula and maybe one of Nero." She started to rise and he automatically held out a hand. She took it, he blinked in surprise, and then helped her to her feet. "Who were those two?"
"Hydra. Winter Soldiers."
"What?"
"Yeah. Apparently they made more. And now they've got powers."
"Powers? What kind of powers?"
"I don't know exactly. But I know there are five of them and they're after you all."
"All, who?"
"The Avengers."
She stared at him and for a moment their eyes locked together and it was like it had always been: perfect communication without another word needed and a shared determination. The others were back in lobby, they were in danger, and they needed to be protected.
Natasha nodded and the two started down the hall and back to the lobby. Anything else could wait. They had to reach the others.
Steve was trying very hard. He knew this party was important, at least that it was important to Tony, and so he was trying. He felt uncomfortable and out of place but he was making an effort. The woman who'd waylaid him claiming to be a history buff ten minutes ago however, was not making it easy. She'd said she'd love to pick his brains, but had instead seemed mostly interested in lecturing him on the socio-political landscape of Germany leading up to the war.
It had taken a great deal of Steve's self-control to stay polite, and his politeness even caused him to ignore his cell phone the first time it buzzed in his pocket. He kept reminding himself that he was doing this for the team. He was at this party, to help the Avengers.
"So you see, if you consider the terms of peace laid on them after the first world war, it really just opened the way for the Nazi party-"
The phone rang again. "Er, I'm sorry," said Steve giving in to temptation and pulling the phone out, desperate for any excuse to cut the conversation short. "I've really got to take this. Hello?"
Jarvis's voice greeted him, sounding urgent and concerned. "Captain Rogers. I have received creditable information that you and the Avengers may be in danger."
"From what?" And as he spoke, he turned a little. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flash steel. He twisted away just in time. The knife grazed his arm, but a more serious injury was just avoided.
Steve dropped the phone, grabbing for the wrist holding the weapon and twisted; a twist that would have forced a normal man to drop the knife, instead it was answered with a punch straight to the jaw which sent him back. He dodged another swipe from the knife, and a second. He barreled into the man, bringing him to the floor, raising a fist only to have his it grabbed and he was flung off.
The strength of the man alone staggered him. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt. The closest thing he could compare it too was facing down the Hulk. Not quite that overpowering, but close enough.
People were pulling back, emptying the floor around them. Then suddenly someone screamed. A bullet hit Steve's shoulder and he automatically went into a roll, as more bullets shot into the tiles, bringing up shards.
A second assassin had stepped forward, gun raised. Steve threw himself into a slide across the floor, coming up by this second man. He wrenched away the gun. Whatever strength this man had, and from a punch that caught Steve in the gut, it was considerable, but it was nothing like the other one.
Steve threw the gun away and raised an arm to block another punch, and to his shock his hand went right through the man's arm. There was a flicker and for only a split second, the flesh disappeared and Steve's hand slid through, and then the punch came, completely solid and whole. It was if that one section of arm had phased out of existence for just long enough to avoid Steve and then reformed once clear, to make contact and send him back several paces towards the stronger assassin, who kicked, catching Steve in the side.
People were running now, the floor clearing more and more.
But Steve, knocked back by the strength of the one man was caught again by the other. He tired to match the blows which his own but the strength of the one seemed little affected by the sharp elbow to the side of the jaw and when he tried to kick the second, the flesh simply phased away for a split second that allowed him to step back.
The strong man laughed, and another punch sent Steve to his knee. He could taste blood on his lip, he needed to get out, retreat enough to regroup, come up with a plan-
There was a woosh of speed, as something, or impossibly someone, knocked into the strong man, and he reeled back, more in surprise than anything else.
"Cap!"
Steve looked round and caught sight of a someone near the doors, a man he'd recognize anywhere, even through the scars and burns that now marred his face, and he was holding Steve's shield.
Brock Rumlow raised the shield. "This still isn't personal!" he snapped, and threw it to him. Steve jumped and caught it, and as his hand slid through the handle, twisted round and slammed it into second man, who didn't phase away this time but stumbled back, blood trickling from a split lip.
Good. So you can take a hit. It's just got to be a surprise, thought Steve grimly, which means it takes thought on your part. Which means you're stoppable.
Steve raced forward, hoping to catch him off guard again but he was ready for him this time and the edge of his shield was neatly avoided.
Another woosh, and what had hit the first man, slammed into the second, sending him sprawling to the ground. Steve stared at the young blonde man before him, who gave him a wink before with a another woosh, he went after the second assassin again.
Across the room, Brock started moving towards them, when a blast of electricity caught him in the side and he went flying across the room.
Up on the balcony that overlooked the lobby, there was the sound of blasts and gunshots coming from behind a set of doors. There was crash, Bucky suddenly came smashing through the doors and rammed into the railing. Coming through after him, he saw the soldier Oleg and gritting his teeth, pushed himself back up to his feet.
"Come on," he said in Russian, "do we really need to do this?"
Oleg grinned for one moment and suddenly stopped in his advance. A look of deep concentration came across his face, there was crack, and he was gone. Bucky barely had time to stare before he realized the crack hadn't been the sound of Oleg disappearing, but of him reappearing at his side. Oleg grabbed him by the throat. "Oh yes, I think," said Oleg, leaning closer, "that we do." And raising Bucky, he threw him over the edge of the balcony, just as Tony came soaring down the hall and towards him. Oleg turned and rolled as repulsor blasts buried themselves into the wood of the railing.
Bucky felt himself plummet to the floor below, gritted his teeth to take the blow and suddenly felt himself caught, red energy crackling around him, and he was being set down on the floor gently on his feet. He looked round and caught sight of Wanda, her hands held up in his direction. He flashed her broad grin, before turning to survey the room and access the situation.
The room was empty now except for the combatants. All of Josef's team was there. Two of them, Katya and Nikola, seemed to have only just come in through a side door. Steve and Pietro were fighting Ilya and Josef himself. Ilya seemed to be avoiding Steve's blows, but Bucky's eyes were either playing tricks on him as to how or he was missing something. Brock, was pushing himself to his feet, grimacing in pain, but also out his stun baton and glaring daggers towards Katya.
A crack and suddenly Oleg was on the floor by Steve. Bucky surged forward, catching the man by surprise with a punch from behind. Steve sent his shield in an arc that rammed into Ilya, and as it came round Bucky reached out and grabbed it from the air, bringing it down on Oleg's back before tossing it once more to Steve.
Steve froze. "Bucky?"
Wham. A right hook from Josef caught Steve on the side. Just as a repulsor blast hit inches away from Bucky, who jumped and swirled. Up above, Stark swore.
He hadn't been aiming for Barnes. A split second ago the woman had been standing right next to him, but the repulsor blast had gone right through her and then she'd vanished. How-
Suddenly the whole room was filling up with copies and duplicates of the assassins. He held in the air.
"Jarves are you seeing this?"
"I am sir. I am scanning for heat signatures now."
He heard a door open and footsteps. He turn round and saw running out onto the balcony: Natasha and just behind her…Clint.
"Is that…"
"Yes sir. Mr. Barton was the one who informed me of the threat against you."
"Huh."
Nat was taking the stairs down to the main floor, gun at the ready, while Clint moved to the staircase drawing his bow and nocking an arrow. Tony's HUD screen lit up, showing the floor below him and he forced his attention back to the battle.
Those down there were struggling. An attack kept coming into contact with the illusions around them which would fade away only to be replaced by another, giving the real attackers excellent openings.
"What have you got for me, J?"
The HUD screen filled in the view, showing the real bodies in red.
He flew towards Clint. "Barton! Twelve o'clock, over by the pillar, that's a real one."
Clint didn't even hesitate: an arrow flew straight and true, catching one of the men in the shoulder.
"Right below you! By the table!"
Again Clint seamlessly followed the order, leaning out over the railing, taking aim. With half the balcony blocking the man below him, he could only hit the arm but the arrow flew straight and true. As it dug into flesh, the illusions flickered and disappeared for a second, then sprung back.
"Wanda!" Tony looked over and saw Clint, speaking into a com's device. "Wanda, over to your three o'clock. He's the one making the illusions."
On the floor below, a red haired woman was suddenly running across the floor towards the illusionist. Red energy shot out from her at the same moment white energy shot out from the man and the two met in a crackle of power. The illusions melted away.
"Bucky, I need you to watch Wanda's back!" Clint ordered.
As Tony flew back into the fray, he saw Barnes cross the room.
Still on the balcony, there was suddenly a crack in the air, and Clint turned to be confronted by the first man he'd shot. Startled at the sudden appearance, he didn't react quite fast enough. A knife caught him in the side, then a punch hit him hard in the chest, sending him slamming back and over the railing, falling to the ground.
He was caught out of the air by Stark and set down on the floor. Clint nodded a thanks and would have, have moved on, but Stark noticed blood on his own gauntlet, and looked towards the knife wound. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine." He nocked an arrow and turned, firing and quickly reaching for another, not giving Tony time to respond. There was a beat, and then Tony flew back into the air once more.
Bucky ran towards where Wanda was locked with Nikola. Illusions swirled around her, but he was impressed at how, after the first couple caused her to lose ground, she was able to ignore them. This unfortunately left her open to attack from behind.
A bolt of electricity flew towards, just missing as Brock caught Katya unawares with a sharp jab with his stun baton, throwing off her aim. She whirled, electricity sizzling between her fingers, more intense than before. He dodged one attack and then another, giving Bucky time to reach the pair. As he hit out, she rolled, coming up on his side, grabbing for his metal arm. He felt the electricity rush through him, conducted smoothly by the metal, the sensation horribly reminiscent of the chair. His body jerked, and he scrambled to push her off but she held firm, kicking at Brock as he moved in to help.
Suddenly, through the open front doors, something, someone, came soaring. Sam Wilson flew downwards, feet first into Katya, knocking her to the floor, breaking her hold on Bucky. She raised a palm and Brock surged forward, once more with his baton. This time he held it longer. Bucky saw the electricity surge around her, building, building, she raised a hand to blast out, when suddenly it seemed the level of electricity surging through her tipped over into overload and her whole body began to shake with it, leaping wildly around and through her. Bucky grabbed Brock and pulled him back, as Wilson took back to the air. There was blast of energy, the air sizzling and crackling, and then Katya lay still and unconscious on the ground.
Clint felt the tingle of electricity in the air, but didn't turn round to check it. The Soldier who'd knocked him from the balcony was back at his side. He'd wrenched Clint's bow away and cracked it. With a growl of anger Clint had slammed him, taking him to the ground.
The two rolled, the Soldier coming up on top. Several punches rained down before Clint was able to gain enough purchase to block one punch and retaliate but then a blow struck him on his wounded side, and he gave a yell of pain, his vision tunneling. Suddenly the weight of the man was off him. He blinked through the pain and blackness, his vision coming back into focus. A hand was held out to him and he took it, pulling himself to his feet. Nat gave him one quick assessing look and then smiled. Together, the two turned back to the soldier.
Clint saw the man take on a look of deep concentration, and new instantly that if not stopped he was about to blink away once more. Nat seemed to know this too, for she didn't hesitate. She grabbed a fallen tray that littered the floor, and threw it right at the soldier's head. Spinning through the air, there was a nasty thunk as it caught the man on the temple, giving Clint time to charge forward and slam the Soldier back down to the ground.
Wanda felt the space around her thrumming with energy, hers and the soldier's. She couldn't push through to reach the man, but she wasn't losing any ground either. Pieces of floor shattered from impact, she heard screams around her, saw images flicker around her, grabbing her, reaching out, but she had quickly placed these as nothing more than illusions, attempting to distract her.
But how to make progress? If she focused any of her powers away from blocking the other man's, his would get through.
Suddenly, Bucky's words from their training came back, from after she'd flown. "You'll learn. You'll master it. You'll control it."
It was a risk...if she couldn't control it...but it was a risk she was going to take. She knew her weakness. The soldier was a better fighter than her. So she needed the element of surprise even if she did get through his powers. This was the only way.
She would only have a split second between dropping the energy from blocking to wrapping it around herself. But she didn't allow herself to hesitate. This was the fight. These were the risks they all took. And she wasn't going to do any less than the others. She moved, red energy lashing around, letting instinct control it.
She flew up into the air, allowed herself a flicker of elation and then flew forward, coming down directly at the soldier's side. She reached out, grabbed him on both sides of his head, allowing her power to reach out, overwhelming, sending waves of sleep through his mind.
He collapsed to the ground, and she stood over him, drained and tired. But the sounds of fighting pulled her back to the present and wearily, she turned and took in the rest of the room.
Steve has backed off the assassin who kept phasing in and out. He'd gotten a few punches in but it was hard. The blonde man who moved so absurdly fast however, was having better luck. He wasn't as strong, and the assassin had caught him a few good blows, but the speed of his punches seemed to get in under the assassin's own ability,
So Steve instead turned to the other assassin. Steve couldn't counter him with strength, but he was lighter and quicker, able to dodge more blows. The shield seemed his only effective weapon, the vibranium at least making itself felt when it landed a hit.
Repulsor blasts rained down, suddenly turning the man on the defensive, as Stark landed neatly behind. But even on the defensive he was powerful. Stark swore as a kick from the man managed to leave a dent in the suit.
"Move!"
It was a clear, female voice that spoke. Steve turned, and saw a red haired girl across the room. She raised her palm and pointed it above them. He looked up and suddenly threw himself to the side. Red energy shot from her palm and rammed into the chandelier above, which came crashing down, taking the assassin with it, as Stark just barely managed to blast off and away.
The sound of shattering glass echoed throughout the lobby, fragments and shards skidding everywhere. Pietro had easily zoomed out of the ratio of the fall, but the soldier he'd been fighting was caught by surprise, several pieces of flying glass cutting his side and arm. Still off balance from this, he was unprepared when Pietro came zooming back and grabbed him, and throwing him skidding across the floor. Brock moved forward and caught him with his baton. When he pulled back, the man was old cold. As the soldier under the chandelier, bloodied and furious, attempted to struggle out, Steve rammed his shield down on the side of his head the man went limp. Across the room, Nat delivered one final blow to the last soldier standing.
And at last silence filled the room.
AN: Wait...*why* did I plot this story so that it would require a relatively large fight scene with fourteen participants? I must not have been thinking straight. But now it's over and next chapter will be way more fun to write :-D
I'm also not 100% sure if giving the soldiers special powers outside of the serum was strictly necessary. I was worried about balance issues. Both Wanda and Pietro are pretty dang powerful. But it may have complicated things too much.