The Shadow [a marvel fanfiction]

Civil War: Chapter Eight

Marie twirled her daggers, hands settling in the all-too-familiar grooves, and sheathed them in her belt. She shook the fatigue out of her muscles and adjusted to the weight of her bo staff on her back. Steve, Sam and Clint were going over the plan again. Marie tuned them out.

Every fiber of her being told her this was wrong. Her stomach churned and folded in on itself, her nerves jittery and her heart pounding heavily in her chest. She refused to hurt anyone. Her knives would not leave her belt and her staff would only block blows, never deliver.

Marie breathed slowly. She stretched her weary muscles and created shimmering spheres in her hands. They glimmered and flickered in the light. She allowed the shadows to crawl up her body until she stood as a whispy black mass.

Materializing, she wobbled as sharp pain pricked her temples. Spots crowded her vision and Marie winced. She counted her breaths and looked up, meeting Bucky's gaze. She tried to grin. A hint of something flashed across his face, but Marie blinked and his back was to her and she looked away.

"Marie."

She snapped to attention and, realizing the others were leaving, turned to Steve. He stood in his uniform, face tight with grim determination and looking exactly as he did in the apartment. Marie read the frown on his forehead and his doubt settled on her shoulders like a weighted blanket.

"I won't hurt anyone," she said quietly.

He shook his head and her hands curled into fists. "They might not give you a choice."

"We always have a—have a choice, Steve."

They said nothing else to each other. Marie followed Steve, winding through the parking garage towards a private runway. She could see the helicopter's blades in the distance, glinting in the glaring sunlight. Heat rose up through the concrete and threatened to boil her alive in her suit.

Marie and Steve ran beneath an underpass, the chopper twenty feet away. An electro-disabler slammed into the chopper's tail. Marie skidded to a halt. Electricity crackled and smoke curled from the helicopter, completely useless.

Iron Man and War Machine descended from the sky. Marie's mouth went dry. Tony flipped open his helmet, dry blood still lingering on his temple and a dark bruise around one eye.

"Wow, it's so weird how you run into people at the airport," Tony said, turning to Rhodes. "Don't you think that's weird?"

"Definitely weird."

Steve gripped his shield tighter. "Hear me out, Tony. That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this."

Another figure, the Black Panther, leapt out from behind a truck. He landed silently on his feet and stood tall. "Captain."

"Your highness." Steve bowed his head. Marie's tilted to the side, studying him. She only received a basic overview of him from Sam. All she understood was to avoid his vibranium claws at all costs.

"Anyway," Tony continued and shrugged nonchalantly, "Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"

Marie's nails dug into her palms. "Tony, please. If you—If you could just listen for-for-for five minutes—"

"No one's got the time," Rhodes muttered and Marie flinched at the rebuke.

Steve took a step forward. "You're after the wrong guy."

"Your judgement is askew," Tony snapped. "Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday."

"And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't."