mental health can go fuck itself.
friday, july 17
s.h.i.e.l.d helicarrier
third person pov
Clint took aim and released an arrow that stuck to the edge of the helicarrier's left engine. He took the small remote from his belt, pressed the button, and smiled as the explosion shot debris out and down through the clouds.
Stiles barely made it through the doors of the lab when the helicarrier shook and dust filtered through the air. The floor blew apart and the people in the lab were scattered, debris and the force of the blast sending them all in different directions.
Stiles saw a blur of red hair as he fell, so he grabbed onto Nat and twisted them so that he landed beneath her, breaking her fall. He coughed, dust from the explosion filling his lungs.
Nat pushed herself off of him, looking at their surroundings. A fallen Bruce Banner lay a few yards away. His chest heaved with labored breaths.
"Mischief," Nat cried, seeing glimpses of green peak out from the doctor's clothes, "we have a problem."
Stiles looked at the writhing man and the clothes that began to tear as the muscles of his arms and back expanded.
His face paled and he shifted to his knees. Stiles pushed Nat toward the ladder that sat in the far corner of the room. "Nat, run."
Nat shook her head and clutched at his hand. "I can't leave you, Stiles."
It was too late, a roar echoed off the walls as the Hulk faced them, giant fingers ripping up the flooring as he started toward them.
"Run!" Stiles shouted.
He grabbed Natasha's hand and tugged her in front of him as they bolted from the enraged Hulk.
They dodged behind the metal shelves and kept low while they tried to stay quiet and hard to find. They ducked under one of the large contraptions and listened for the telltale heavy footsteps.
Silence fell over the room and Stiles pointed to the opening the ladder led to.
He signed, That passageway leads to the control center. We need to go help Fury.
The Black Widow nodded and started up the ladder to the passageway. She pulled herself up and over the ledge, disappearing out of sight. Stiles followed her and reached for her offered hand when a strong grip wrapped around his calf, ripped him away, and flung him against the opposite wall.
His head crashed into the sturdy metal-lined wall and darkness start to encroach on his vision. Stiles groaned and lifted a hand to his nose, where blood rushed from his nostril. He felt a sticky liquid drip down his neck. He was bleeding.
He saw a blurred figure tower over him before it raised two enormous fists above its head. Vaguely, Stiles could hear Nat shouting for him, but there was nothing he could do to avoid the killing blow that was aimed for him.
The Hulk screamed and sent his fists hurtling down but before they could crush Stiles, a red blur tackled the beast to the ground.
Stiles' world went dark and he went limp.
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YOU ARE READING
mortala || stiles and the avengers (CURRENTLY UNDER EDITING)
FanfictionMORTALA [adj.] unrelenting and deadly; involving loss of divine grace or spiritual death. stiles was tired of the pack running behind his back. they had been shutting him out, avoiding him at school, not texting him about meetings, ignoring him all...
