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chapter eighteen

18 x initial stand offs

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[ Third Person POV ]

"Do not wander off," Sam ordered as he marched through the facility. He had Evangeline and Peter; the rest of the Avengers had rushed off on the manhunt that was tracking down Red Skull. How had he ended up with the two newest recruits? Probably because he was the most responsible, and least likely to let kids run off on their own.

In reality he knew it wasn't those things, it was because Steve had a bone to pick with the German, Bucky was not about to let the captain do that on his own, Tony was too zealous for his own good . . . etcetera, etcetera.

"Oh, c'mon, Falcon," Peter was arguing. Sam wasn't sure if it was just him, or if the kid's voice really did sound different with his mask over his face. "We can help! We can do more than just . . . whatever you're doing."

"I'm looking for our teammates. You guys should be guarding the door," Sam explained as calmly as he could.

"Why don't you guys have coms?" Evangeline piped up, ignoring the last part of his sentence.

Sam shot her a moderately impressed look over his shoulder. "Last minute mission," he allowed. "Tony didn't have any stored on the jet, and we didn't have time to grab them."

"Just let us help, we won't get hurt," Peter persisted.

"You know, you're starting to be a real pain--" Sam began to say, but he cut off when a small barrage of Hydra men, armed with glowing blue weapons came charging through the halls. Sam was just reaching for a gun, the enemy soldiers still not quite having taken notice of the three of them, when he witnessed a tangle of vines and a shot of white webs passing him.

The dozen or so of the Hydra men were tied up and incapable of moving in seconds flat.

Sam turned slowly to look at Ev and Peter, brows high on his head as he surveyed them. Ev was wearing a proud smile; Sam had no earthly clue what look was on Peter's face because of the mask, though he assumed it was similar in delight. When he didn't say anything for a moment, Ev began to open her mouth, but he cut her off by shaking his head slowly. "You know what, fine. You can help. Happy?"

"Yes!" they shouted simultaneously, sharing a fast high-five. "Thank you, Falcon!"

"But you'd better not tell Megan it was me that okayed it," he warned, turning back around and heading through the men deeper into the facility.

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[ Megan's POV ]

Pietro stood between Robbins and I as I forced myself to my feet. My tears were drying in my eyes, though I was still shaking slightly from the near-death experience.

The first one I had ever had in my life. Ever. Something about having terrifyingly powerful abilities tended to prevent that . . . the fact that there was actually a chance I could've just died-- I was severely shaken.

Pietro, too, was shaking, but it was not out of fear, that much was obvious even from my vantage point. His shoulders were braced, and though his hands were relaxed, I could practically feel the anger radiating off him. One didn't have to be a mind reader to know that Pietro Maximoff was furious.

You also didn't have to have a brain, but ah . . .

Robbins was smirking as he staggered to his feet, the gun somehow no longer in his hands. He waved flippantly toward Pietro, "You the new boyfriend, speedy? I'd say I'm impressed, but I'm really not. I mean, anyone after me is really a step down." He made a move as though to step toward me, and Pietro was abruptly smack in front of him, their positions shifted just enough that I could see the rage darkening his usually electric eyes.

"You touch her again," he said slowly, so quietly I almost didn't catch it, "then you are a dead man."

Robbins began to snicker. "Aww, cute, you're protective. I mean, I can't say I blame you, just look at her--"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. There was a loud crack that I could only assume came from Pietro punching him; the action was too fast for me to see. All I knew was that Robbins collapsed on the floor, his face already beginning to swell, his nose looking oddly crooked from my vantage point.

I took a cautious step toward Pietro, reaching for his arm and grabbing onto him tightly, pulling myself against him as I closed my eyes and continued to attempt to control my breathing. I was steadily becoming myself again, relieved now at Pietro's presence, and even more at the fact that Robbins was now an unconscious heap on the floor.

When I opened my eyes again, Pietro kicked at Robbins, rolling him over slightly. I could see him shaking his head; "Pathetic excuse for a man," he scoffed roughly, before turning and pulling me into a tight hug.