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Chapter Sixteen
Something-someone landed on the window and clung to the glass on his fingertips. "What the heck is that?" I asked, glancing at Wilson with a smirk.
"Everyone's got a gimmick now," he muttered.
It's true. Captain America, Cat Guy, Falcon, and now this Spider Guy? The weirdest things in World War Two were Steve's Serum and the Tesseract. None of this crap.
I got slightly ahead of Wilson as we ran, and Spider Guy followed us. He shot a web and swung around, smashing the glass in with his feet. Wilson grunted as he was kicked and thrown several feet away from me. I turned back around and threw a punch towards Spider Guy with my left hand, but he caught my fist.
He caught my metal arm and held it there.
"You have a metal arm?" he exclaimed in a cracking voice, turning my wrist towards him as he examined it. "Dude, that's awesome!"
What the actual heck? How old is this kid? Sixteen? Why on Earth am I fighting a sixteen-year-old in a red onsie?
Wilson flew up and grabbed the kid, taking him up towards the ceiling. They spun around, and the red-suited kid kicked off and shot a web towards the ceiling and swung forward. He followed Wilson through the rafters, and I glanced around for something to hit him with. I didn't want to hurt the kid, but I have to now.
I spot a sign bolted into the floor, and race towards it. I grasp its sides and rip it up from the floor. I launched it towards him as hard as I could, and ducked behind a pillar in case he turned his webs on me.
After a second of silence, I check around the pillar to see if I got him.
"Hey, buddy, I think you lost this!" the kid shouted, and the sign suddenly crashed into the pillar. I could just barely duck back behind the pillar to avoid being hit. The sign and the majority of the pillar landed on top of my legs, trapping me. I hate this kid.
The kid suddenly yelped, and Wilson crashed through the top of a kiosk. He got back up and got into a fighting position, but webs attached his hands to the stairs' barrier.
"Are those wings carbon fiber?" Spider Kid wondered as I started working my way out from under what was trapping me.
"Is this stuff coming out of you?" Wilson countered.
"That would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which, gotta say, that's awesome, man," Spider Kid continued.
Has this kid ever even been in a real fight before?
"I don't know if you've been in a fight before," Wilson said, voicing my thoughts, "but there's usually not this much talking."
"Alright. Sorry. My bad," Spider Kid apologized before he jumped up and shot another web towards the ceiling.
I finally got out from underneath the sign and pillar and ran towards Wilson as Spider Kid started to swing towards him. I shielded Wilson, and the kid kicked me in the side. I hit Wilson, and we both went through the glass barrier, crashing down onto the floor.
A web suddenly wrapped around my silver hand, pinning it to the floor. I glance up to where I thought it came from and found Spider Kid crouched on top of a pillar, looking down at Wilson and I. "Guys, look, I'd love to keep this up, but I've only got one job here today, and I gotta impress Mister Stark, so I'm really sorry."
Spider Kid extended his hand towards us and was about to shoot a web, but he was ripped off the pillar and dragged through the window by Wilson's drone. The kid was dropped onto the ground outside, away from us.
"You couldn't have done that earlier?" I demanded.
"I hate you," Wilson muttered.
I fisted my left hand and pulled sharply upwards. The lines of the web snapped instantly, and I sat up, moving towards Wilson who was struggling against the webs. I grabbed onto the sticky web and ripped it open. Wilson sat up and shuddered, wiping the rest of the webs off of his arms. We both stood and ran in the direction of the exit. I finally turned my communicator on to see if I could determine where Steve was, but I only heard heavy breathing as everyone else ran, too. Once we were outside of the airport, I spotted Barton, Lang, Wanda and Steve running towards the hanger where the Quinjet waited.
"Come on!" Steve shouted, waving us towards him.
Wilson and I joined the group and ran with them, the hanger in sight and getting closer by the second.
A golden-yellow beam hit the ground in front of us and tore a line in the stone ground as it traveled. We all stopped and looked up and found a man floating above us with red skin, a yellow stone in his forehead, a green suit and a gold-green cape.
How many more guys does Tony have with him? And what's with the ray from your brain and the flying without mechanical aid?
All I wanted was some plums yesterday morning. It was a good day, I hadn't remembered anything bad. Now we're in a fight with super people that didn't have the Serum in them. What exactly happened over the past seventy years?
"Captain Rogers," the floating man announced, "I know you believe what you're doing is right," Tony landed in front of us with Romanoff right behind him, "but for the collective good, you must surrender now."
No more surrendering. No more giving in to someone else's will.
The man in the black suit of armor like Tony's flew in and dropped T'Challa on the ground, and Spider Kid swung in, assembling their entire team in front of us.
"What do we do, Cap?" Wilson asked.
"We fight," Steve answered, marching forward.
I don't want Steve to destroy his friendships, but we have to get to the other Winter Soldiers and take them out. It's better for everyone as a whole.
Tony's team started to jog forward, and we matched their pace, which increased until we were both running towards each other. Everyone who could fly sprung into the air, and the rest of us charged.
T'Challa leaped upwards and landed on top of me. I rolled away from him and stood, blocking his clawed swing. I punched towards him and shook his claws off of my metal arm.
He tried to punch me again, but I grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. I spun him around and pinned his arm against his back. T'Challa writhed and nearly pulled free, but I shoved him away from me. I didn't want to hurt him. Just subdue him enough to get him out of of the way.
T'Challa brought his claws towards me again, but I blocked and punched him in the side. He stumbled backwards, and I drew my metal fist forward, punching him in the jaw. He was shoved backwards and onto the floor, but he pushed up from the ground and sprung right back up and reached for my throat. I tried to back up, but he was faster. His clawed hand latched onto my neck, and I grabbed his wrist to try to pry him off. I used my metal hand and grab onto his throat. My metal hand can crush his windpipe faster than his hand.
But I don't want to kill him. I'm not ordered to. It's my choice, now, and I choose not to kill him.
I loosen my grip enough to allow him to get air but remain stiff enough to let him know that I could snap his neck. "I didn't kill your father," I explained.
"Then why did you run?" he darkly countered.
Oh. I don't know. Maybe I was just getting some freaking plums and then some guy in a cat suit shows up with a ton of soldiers, and they all try to kill me!
T'Challa slowly forces my hand away from his throat and tries to use my wrist to throw me to the floor, but I pull free from his grasp and throw a punch towards him with my right. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the floor, but I rolled and get to my knees. T'Challa still holds my wrist, and he twists it until there's an audible crack, then he spins and kicks me sharply in the chest. I get thrown into a stack of crates and crash onto the stone ground.
Okay. Fine. Not too keen on talking. Guess I might have to kill you.
I manage to get to my knees again as T'Challa rushes at me with his claws extended. The tips graze my neck, but his hand is suddenly engulfed in a red light. The red light jerks backwards, and T'Challa is taken away with it. I glance over to where the red light came from and found Wanda standing there is red curling around her hands.
"You're welcome," she says before running off.
Thank you? Now there's magic? Sorry, Steve, but I changed my mind. I don't like the future. Can we go back to '45?
I glance over towards where I think Steve is and watch him drop an entire metal landing ramp on Spider Kid. What the heck is he doing that for?
I run towards him, and Steve spots me. Amidst all the explosions and fighting, we take shelter behind a plane and breath hard.
"We gotta go," I point out. "That guy's probably in Siberia by now." I ignore the nearly paralyzing fear that ignites in me at the mention of the place.
"We gotta draw out the flyers," Steve added. "I'll take Vision, you get the jet."
I don't know who Vision is, but I assume he's not Spider Kid because he can't fly.
"No, you get to the jet. Both of you," Wilson orders over the comm in my ear. I nearly flinch at the voice. I haven't worn one of these things since I was the Winter Soldier. They're so distracting. I don't know how Steve takes having someone else's voice in your head during a battle. "The rest of us aren't getting out of here."
"As much as I hate to admit it, if we're gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it," Barton agreed.
Steve lowered his gaze to the ground and glanced at me as Wilson reminded, "This isn't the real fight, Steve."
They're strategy was sound, and though I didn't want to leave brothers/sisters-in-arms behind, I didn't really know them anyway.
"Alright, Sam," Steve conceded. "What's the play?"
"We need a diversion. Something big," Wilson suggested,
"I got something kinda big," Lang offered over the communicator. "But I can't hold it very long. On my signal, run like heck. And if I tear myself in half, don't come back for me."
I looked up at Steve. "He's gonna tear himself in half?"
Steve shrugged. "You sure about this, Scott?"
"I do it all the time," Lang dismisses, barely concealed nervousness in his voice. "I mean, once. In a lab. Then I passed out. I'm the boss, I'm the boss, I'm the boss," he repeated.
After a second or two something sounded that was akin to an explosion, and Spider Kid shouted, "Holy crap!"
Steve and I both came out of our hiding place, staring up at the giant Scott Lang holding onto the foot of the man in the black metal suit.
"I guess that's the signal," Steve voiced, taking the words right out of my mouth.
"Way to go Tic-Tac!" Wilson yelled.
Lang reeled back and threw the man in the black metal suit far off, and Wilson glided in, kicking Tony in the side.
Steve and I didn't waste another moment and ran back in the direction of the hanger as Lang tore the wing off a plane. Why didn't he do that earlier? How many other secret powers do these guys have?
Engines roared, and there was explosion after explosion, but we ignored them, charging towards the hanger. Half of me-the half of me that's still stuck in the seventy years I spent in Siberia, thinking of Zola and Pierce and all the rest of them-wants to turn back, continue the fight, but the rest of me is forcing me forward. I need to do this. The world needs me to go back there, and so does Steve, Wanda, Lang, Barton-heck-even Wilson.
The control tower for the airport was suddenly consumed in a yellow light before it started to crumble. It tilted forward and was falling right in front of the hanger entrance. I wasn't sure if we should stop or keep going and risk getting crushed in order to get to the jet. A blanket of red light caught the tower before it could give way completely. I glance back and find Wanda with her hands out and her fingers curved like claws, red light curling around her wrists. She looked like she was struggling to hold it, so I push myself faster. We were only a few feet from the entrance when Wanda screamed, and the red light underneath the collapsing tower disappeared. I rush as fast as I can and duck underneath the debris.
Steve jogs up next to me as I stop. Natalia stood, guarding the Quinjet. I want so badly to talk with her. I open my mouth, but she spoke first.
"You're not gonna stop," she sighed.
"You know I can't," Steve admitted.
Natalia sighed heavily before raising her fist. "I'm gonna regret this."
I tensed, ready to fight her, but when she fired one of her stingers, someone behind us grunted. We both glanced back to find T'Challa gripping his chest with electricity curling around his suit.
"Go," she muttered.
I would have thanked her if we weren't in such a hurry. Steve and I resumed running the rest of the way to the Quinjet as T'Challa cried out behind us again. We boarded, Steve got in the pilot seat and initiated the startup sequence. Natasha continually fired her electric charges on T'Challa as Steve used the ship's guns to make a hole in the fallen tower that we could fly through. T'Challa managed to get a few steps in before getting shot again.
Once there was enough space, Steve guided the Quinjet up and through the hanger doors. T'Challa jumped up off of some of the debris, but a glance out the viewport next to me told me that he had fallen back down.
We climbed up into the sky quickly, and I finally sat down in the seat behind Steve. The fight was over, and as far as I know, nobody died for once.
Steve turned his head to look out the window next to me before pushing the jet faster. I followed his gaze and found Tony and his friend racing to catch up with us in their suits. Wilson flew up quickly and fired something towards them that exploded in front of Tony and his friend.
Don't kill them, Wilson. They're your friends, too, right?
All of a sudden, a yellow beam shot towards us, and Wilson folded in his wings to dodge. The beam struck Tony's friend, and he fell towards the ground with no sign of slowing down and black smoke trailing behind him. Tony and Wilson dove after him, but I lost sight of them quickly. All I can do is plead that they would catch him. I'm just as helpless to prevent death as I always am.
Hope you all enjoyed that! I enjoyed writing the comedic parts of Bucky having no clue what was going on. I hope to see you soon for the next chapter!