Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing but Alice.
Chapter Eight
"Are you sure SHIELD's not going to go all Division on your asses and have you all cancelled? I'm about ninety-nine percent sure that I am a fugitive and you're helping me escape."
I'm having something just short of a complete panic attack as we head back to Manhattan. Yeah, Steve said I'd be going home, but Steve is not the ring-leader around here, not yet at least. Oh god, I feel like my chest is going to explode.
"Hey, relax," says Clint. "Fury's got eyes everywhere, he knows where you are."
"What's Division?" Steve asks.
"It's from a show," I answer. "Okay, so what happens after? After the flight, what then? Are you going to have me locked up for life? Are you going to assassinate me? Can someone give me an answer that isn't vague as all hell?!"
"I can't tell if this is an act, or extreme paranoia on our part," Natasha quips.
"That's exactly the kind of answer I didn't want!" I half-shriek. I stumble forward in an attempt to glance out the window. "We're entering from the east side. We're—my aunt lives in Chelsea. My—you don't—I'm assuming we're not going to fly over and drop me off before you join the fight over by Stark Tower?"
"Looks like your luck runs out now, Alice," says Steve.
"I—What luck?!"
"Stark, we're on your three, heading northeast," Natasha radioes in.
"What, did you stop for drive-thru?" Tony asks.
"Hold on; can we stop for drive-thru?" I blurt out. "Sorry, stupid question. Carry on."
"Swing up Park, I'm gonna lay 'em out for you," says Tony. My legs start to give out as a result of my apprehension, and I hold onto the back of Clint's seat to maintain balance.
"Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down," Steve suggests. I shake my head, no; I know what's coming.
Oh, who am I kidding? It's ridiculous to want to salvage the storyline if I'm endangering the lives of four people.
"Nat?" says Clint.
"I see him," she replies.
"No no no, it's not—you're—he's—"
The next thing that comes out of my mouth is a scream. The blast from Loki's scepter hits the Quinjet and in no time, we're rapidly losing altitude, as the jet spins out of control and fills up with smoke. Steve braces himself on the back of Natasha's seat, and Natasha grips onto the sides of her own. Clint strains to regain control of the aircraft, in hopes of a relatively safe landing. And me? I'm struggling to keep to the part of the jet that isn't going up in flames (or rather, going down). Hell, I can't even keep either foot on the ground, and I feel like my arms are going to be ripped off due to the death grip I've got on the pilot's seat.
But, as planned and hoped, Clint is able to 'land' the jet—even if he did so by crashing it into a building—and we make it out safely. 'Safely'.
"We've gotta get back up there," says Steve, as he and the other two Avengers present glance up at the tower. I'm preoccupied with basically hugging the ground below me.
"Holy shit—land. I'm never flying again. I can't feel my legs," I say. My reunion with the world is cut short when I see that there's an overturned Volvo next to me, with the dead driver all mangled and bloody, his hand nearly completely severed from the wrist. I think it was the 'nearly' part that grossed me out the most. I quickly stand and steady myself on the corner of a nearby bus shelter, "Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick. What the—"
I'm interrupted by a loud, very unpleasant, mechanical growling sound. We all turn to see what I think was called a Leviathan, in the films, but don't quote me on that. Let's just call it a…big…metal…fish monster…? Or something.
Anyway, legions of Chitauri jump down from said big metal fish monster and start wreaking havoc on Midtown Manhattan.
"So, um, sorry if this is totally inappropriate," I say slowly. The present Avengers wait somewhat impatiently for me to continue, "Can I go home?"
"Not yet, it's too dangerous," says Clint. "We have to issue an evac, we've got civilians trapped here."
He gestures over to the people stuck in traffic, and trapped in buildings. Loki sends a scepter blast our way and I'm pulled down with the others in hopes that the overturned taxis and the damaged bus would protect us from the Chitauri warriors that suddenly surrounded us.
"They're fish in a barrel down there," Steve remarks after taking a quick glance over the taxi and seeing the helpless people try to avoid the burning cars and debris that Loki and the Chitauri were sending their way.
Natasha takes one look at Steve, then at the civilians, before standing. She fires at two of the Chitauri approaching us and is soon joined by Clint and his arrows.
"Take her with you," says Natasha to Steve, pushing me closer to him. "We've got this. It's good, go."
Steve looks at Clint, "You think you can hold them off?"
"Captain," says Clint, tapping a few buttons on the grip of his bow. "It would be my genuine pleasure."
He reaches over his shoulder to grab an arrow, turns, and fires it without a moment's hesitation. The arrow pegs the central Chitauri warrior in the forehead, and as the alien collapses, the arrow fires two smaller projectiles at the two surrounding Chitauri.
Well then. Who needs superpowers when you can do that?
While I'm being distracted by Hawkeye's, for lack of less juvenile word, skills, I suddenly find myself being dragged along all the burning wreckage by the wrist, with a Super Soldier hanging on the other end of it. I'm too distracted by the sheer shock of what's happening to register that every inch of me is still in pain. That is, until we stop.
"Ow, ow, ow—oh dear god—everything hurts," I say. "Hey, Steve? How about a warning next time?"
But Steve isn't listening to my complaints, as he's too busy giving orders to a pair of very confused policemen.
"I need men in these buildings," Steve says. "There are people inside and they're going to be running right into the line of fire. You take them to the basement or to the subway—you keep them off the streets. I need a perimeter as far back as 39th—"
"And why the hell should I take orders from you?" asks one of the cops. I remember scoffing at this scene in the theater, but watching it happen in person, it really is kind of an embarrassing experience. Really, why would these pigheaded, probably fascist policemen consider listening to a man that looks like he just left some sort of pride parade and a currently-undead-looking teenager.
Of course, Steve does get the chance to earn, in a way, respect and authority, by fighting off two Chitauri soldiers, which included him ripping the arm off of one and using it as a weapon against the other. Where the hell did the whole 'Captain America is innocent and pure' thing come from?
The cops are at his beck and call in no time, getting backup and starting a proper evacuation. I mean, wow. Go Steve. Except not, because he then turns to me and says, "Go with them."
"What? No way! I'm not going with the damn cops in a crisis that calls for superheroes! Besides—behind you, upper left—I feel like I'm too far into this whole thing to back out," I say. I pause, thinking about the situation for a moment, "Hm…I have an idea…"
"What?" Steve asks, but I'm too busy taking advantage of him being distracted by Chitauri.
"Hey!" He calls after me, but the Chitauri are outnumbering him, requiring Tony and Thor to come to his aid. After I think I'm far enough away, I glance back to see if anyone had followed me. No one did, and they're all currently standing back to back, the Hulk having joined them, with the Chitauri circling above them. I switch over to the sidewalk, where I'm concealed by all the wreckage piling up on the street.
So here's the thing: no one is taking me seriously, and no one has been taking me seriously the past couple of days. Little do they know, I haven't told a single lie since they met me. And instead of wasting my time, trying to convince them how to speed the battle up and end things in time for lunch, I'm just going to stay one or two steps ahead of them.
Okay…what's two steps ahead of them from now?
I've reached the MetLife building—well, Stark Tower, and climb on top of what looks like it was once the corner of a skyscraper, careful around the sharp edges, to see where the Avengers are now. Steve and Natasha are approaching, meaning in about ten minutes from now, she'll be looking for the sceptre. Hoping that they haven't spotted me yet, I quickly duck into the building and head towards the emergency stairs.
oOo