Chapter 14

     An ear-piercing scream escaped Wanda's lips as Steve fell and landed motionless on his side. It was like watching it happen all over again – her brother's death in Sokovia, only this time with Steve. This time, with the man who was the closest person she had to family since Pietro. And as he collapsed, her heart was ripped from her chest – just like in Sokovia.

     Just like Sokovia.

     It seemed everything was just like Sokovia now. They, the Avengers, had no home anymore. They were left with just themselves with nobody to turn to (with the exception of SHIELD, of course). People were getting hurt because of their actions... just like in Sokovia. Watching everything happen as she had was painful – the kind of pain that throbs in your chest and demands to be felt. And Wanda was feeling that pain more than anyone else.

     Then the tears came. They burst through like warm sink water being spilled from its faucet and they didn't stop. And neither did the screaming.

     Bucky hurled himself out of the hovering helicopter and nearly tripped over himself running to the scene. He wasn't screaming – he had suddenly lost his voice, nor did he cry – because he didn't have any left in him. Perhaps they had all been soaked up during his time as the Winter Soldier. Perhaps he didn't remember how to cry... but if that were the case, he knew he was sure to learn – because yards across from him lay his only best friend; motionless with a hole in his abdomen. I'm sure to learn, he thought, or at least managed to think in the scramble of emotions racing throughout his brain and his heart in the moment; the terrible, horrible moment.

     "NO!" Sam cried in horrible disbelief. It had happened so fast. One moment he was perfectly fine; whole, and the next he was – not. Scott bit his tongue – unsure of how to react. He stood like a statue in his place with his mouth open in a gaping "O." Captain America was at a weak state on the floor... and for the first time since they met, Scott didn't see Captain America – he saw Steve Rogers. And Steve Rogers was dying.

     Then they were all running towards him. Bucky, Sam, Clint... and Natasha. She couldn't remember the last time she cried; really cried. It had to have been decades ago, when she was still a child who hadn't yet been immune to the horrors of The Red Room.

     But she wasn't holding back now. She was bawling – her sobs echoing in the air and shaking as she ran to Steve's side. It was as if every emotion of sadness and every emotion of fear or despair she had felt in the past twenty-two years of her life were suddenly being let out in her tears. In all honesty, they were. If you were part of SHIELD, or had ever worked with Natasha or known her personally before, you would have maybe seen her shed a tear once (if any). In most cases, it was because she had dropped a weight a little too hard onto her foot during training hours – but never because she was in emotional pain. Actually, seeing Natasha break down in emotional pain was rare – almost non-existent. Yet, here she was... creeping out from her stone-cold shell so far as if she were abandoning it completely. And she bawled.

     She flung herself down at Steve's side and scooped his upper body into her shaking arms – holding him like the world would end if she let go. Her tears dripped from her flushed cheeks onto his face and she tried to steady her fingers long enough to get a firm grip around his wrist to check his pulse. But the more she tried to stop the shaking, the worse it got.

     She heard another swarm of heavy soldier footsteps rushing up the staircase a few meters away from where they lay sprawled out on the floor. She held her breath in between sobs as they got closer... closer... closer. And then before she even had a chance to see their faces, her attention was drawn to their weapons. Their floating weapons.

     She caught a glimpse of a red glow around each loaded assault rifle and knew what was about to happen off the top of her head.

     Wanda, who had harsh black mascara stains down her face, was shaking angrily and painfully as she focused her telekinetic energy on Ross' soldiers' weapons. She was sobbing loud enough for Natasha to hear – and there was a good amount of distance between them. But even from afar, Natasha could see the red in her eyes and she coldness of her expression. She knew exactly what Wanda was about to do.

     Natasha shot an icy glare at the men behind her, who were eyeing their floating weapons in confusion while at the same time stepping back in fear – they knew what Wanda was about to do as well. Then, Natasha looked back down at Steve; bloody and bruised in her arms, and for the moment – she didn't care what happened to the men who did that to him, so long as it caused them more pain than it caused her. Unmatchable, she thought as many more heavy tears streamed down her face, and then she looked to Wanda... do your worst.

     Practically on cue, Wanda roared loudly in agony and sent every single bullet loaded into the men's guns piercing through their bodies. Dozens upon dozens of shots were launched and dozens upon dozens sliced through the men's figures – causing them to drop dead to the floor; bloody to a pulp. Even when there were no more of Ross' soldiers left standing, Wanda continued firing their guns at nothing.

     Natasha covered her ears for the first time since she graduated from the Red Room, as did the others, and she leaned over Steve to prevent him from being shot again. She rocked back and forth, and as if trying to be louder than the bullets being fired, she screamed. It was a scream of pain, sadness, and fear... a scream of everything she was feeling right then and there. And when the shooting stopped and the screams died out, Wanda fell to her knees.

     Forgive me, Lord, she thought, and continued to cry into the palms of her hands.

     The others had stopped running towards Steve to take the proper positions for a firefight – back turned to the scene, body hunched over, and hands on the back of your head... or, in Scott's case, lying flat as a pancake with your face to the ground. Now, they had all looked around to make sure the coast was clear, and resumed darting to Steve's side – leaving Wanda alone in a bug on the floor.

     Natasha wiped a strand of Steve's hair out of his face and sobbed, "Steve?" She sniffled as more tears fell down her face and she begged at his silence, "Steve, say something!"

     Bucky clenched Steve's arm at his side and shook it slightly, "Steve!?"

     Natasha shook her head in refusal to accept the sight of Steve in her arms. She cried to Clint, "He's not conscious!"

     "Get him on the jet! He can't lose blood like this!" Clint ordered, lowering himself frantically to their side and tucked his hands underneath Steve's back.

     "Maria! Call 9-1-1!" Sam yelled to the jet. Maria was about to run to the scene when Wanda began firing the guns. Then instead, she covered herself and ducked low to the floor of the jet. Once the shooting stopped, she re-gathered herself, prepared for the worst, and stepped outside.

      She wiped tears from her lashes and pinched her earpiece between her fingers. From the other end, the receiver recited the usual, "9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

     "Yeah, hi, uhm..." Maria choked, pressing her free hand to the side of her face to control herself, "Where's a hospital nearest to the coast of the upper west side? Please, it's urgent."

     "Ma'am?" The receiver spoke in confusion.

     Back at Steve's side, Natasha tried to lift him all by herself in a hurry, but even a woman of her strength couldn't lift a super-soldier single-handedly. She panicked, "Help! I can't carry him!"

     "Shh, shh..." Clint urged, trying to calm her down, and he eyed his hands that were positioned underneath Steve. "I got you – on three. One... two... three." He and Natasha lifted Steve up off of the ground.

     "Come on, man," Clint grunted, using all of his strength to hold this man in his arms even with Natasha's help, "Let's get you to the hospital."

      Sam leaped to the other side to lift his head and waved at Scott, "Grab his legs!"

     Scott stuttered and gripped both of Steve's legs in his arms, "I've got it... Oh, God..." He exhaled, only now noticing the depth of his bullet wound and how much he was bleeding.

     They carried Steve's limp body quickly but carefully to the jet. In their rush to get him on board, Clint glanced over his shoulder at the realization that Wanda wasn't following them. She was leaned back onto her knees, slouched over with her long dark hair hiding her face in the middle of the floor. Her shoulders bounced ever so slightly to rhythm of her sobbing – and the closer he listened in, the louder they echoed.

     Clint looked to his left and his eyes met the side of Bucky's face, who was lingering droopily near the others carrying Steve. Seeing as he wasn't doing anything, Clint exhaled, "Bucky, take him."

     Bucky was startled by his words with the way his eyes darted up in alert. It took him a few split-seconds to comprehend what Clint was saying, and the exchange happened quickly. Bucky slipped his hands underneath Steve's back, in the same spot Clint had his, and then Clint let go and jogged over to Wanda.

     Before he even had the chance to say a word to Wanda, more men came up the staircase with their weapons and pointed them – but they didn't fire.

     "Stop where you are!" The man at the front shouted. His voice was deep and raspy – it blurred his words and sent an uncomfortable chill down Natasha's spine.

     "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Clint winded venomously in irritation and anger. God damn it Ross, how many of these men do you have on stand-by? Why don't you just come down here and take care of us yourself, big man?

     In actual fear of being fired at again, everybody froze in their spot. Then, the man at the front of the cluster of Ross' soldiers ordered with authority, "Now turn where I can face you, or we will open fire!"

     Sam's expression hardened and he gulped, "Wanda!"

     Wanda, as if she were so deep into her own world that she didn't even notice Ross' men standing at the stairwell, looked up and out to see them for the first time. Clint could sense her heart drop inside her chest in a combination of fear, sadness, and more visibly – rage.

     Her eyes turned cold. Her green irises were soon engulfed in that eerie red glow, just like they did during times of serious anger, and they sent a glare like a laser beam towards Ross' men. She thought of Steve and the hole they had left in his abdomen a few minutes earlier, and how it seemed to have no effect whatsoever on them as they stood with their guns pointed in her direction. She didn't look back at Steve, though – she didn't need to. Looking back at him would only fuel the fire and in extreme cases – it would end much worse for Ross' men than death by their own bullets. It would mean she would rip them apart – she had the power to. She could do it right now. But instead of pulling their limbs apart one by one, she exhaled calmly and slowly – but the fury was still there.

     She stood up slowly, not once breaking contact with the men. They all shifted and pointed their guns at her as she came up off of the ground. She could sense the fear within all of them – she even saw one of the men's fingers tremble from behind the trigger.

     "Wanda, be careful!" Clint reminded. Don't make this worse.

      She paused; thinking about what she could do; what she would do, to make them scream just as she had when they fired that bullet into Steve's body. Don't make this worse.

     Don't make this worse.

     It's already worse.

     Don't.

     Control yourself.

     Control...

     Then all of their bullets were being rapidly emptied from their guns – from their bare hands – for the second time, and were sent flying into the ocean, forming little ripples in the water.

     The men flew back, weaponless, in fear of being murdered by the mourning young woman before them. Wanda even heard little cries for help escape their mouths – but it didn't make up for the fact that her best friend had a hole in his abdomen.

     It's not enough, she thought. More of them will come – and then it will be us crying for help.

     Then, without even realizing she had the power to do so, she put up a thick glowing barrier, created sorely from her energy, between herself and the stairwell – blocking off contact with Ross and his men and anybody else who would choose to come up those stairs. The barrier was strong if she concentrated hard enough, which she did, and for the moment, they were safe.

     Clint exhaled with relief, gave Wanda quick sarcastic clap, and tugged at her arm, "Alright, thank you, love you – let's go."

     She didn't budge.

     He exhaled again, this time slightly annoyed, and raised his voice, "Come on! Let's go!"

     She didn't look back to meet his eyes, but instead she stood with her entire body focused on the barrier of energy she was controlling. "I can't leave without losing focus and I can't lose focus without dropping the barrier."

     "Tough." Clint said as he moseyed his way to the front of her, ducked down, and picked her up off the ground by her legs – swinging her over his shoulder.

     "Clint!" She howled, trying desperately not to break her focus with the barrier. "Clint, stop!"

     "You may be slouched over my shoulder right now, but you're still facing the barrier which means you can still concentrate on it which means you can keep it up long enough for us to get off of the ground and leave – and we're leaving right now, one way or the other." He explained firmly, which easily translated to "don't argue with me, because I'll win.'

     She caught the message and realized it was probably best for not to argue with him right then and there. She kept her powers concentrated on the barrier as Clint ran her to the jet. As soon as the two of them were on board, Maria shoved the joystick forward, sending the jet flying off as fast as it would go. The backdrop shut, Clint set Wanda down on the floor, and they both panted with relief and exhaustion.

     But the second they turned around to face the others, they wish they hadn't. Natasha squatting down next to Steve, who was sprawled across the row of seats on the left-hand-side, and she was holding his head and left hand in her arms. Sam and Scott were tearing apart the emergency first-aid kits that were kept under the pilot's seat, trying to find as many rolls of cotton gauze as they could to wrap Steve's wound area. Bucky was curled up in a ball on the floor, leaned against the row of seats closest to the front of the jet on the right-hand-side. Tears stained his dull, bloodshot eye. My God... Clint thought as he took everything in.

     Natasha pressed her hand lightly against Steve's wounded area and when she pulled it away; her entire palm was covered in blood. She looked at it, moaned in confusion of what to do, and then lifted Steve's shirt up just above his bellybutton to get a better look at the wound. It was bad.

     "Alcohol," She choked, "Somebody get me rubbing alcohol and cotton gauze," She needed to clean around the wound. It was bad to pour rubbing alcohol inside your injuries, and she knew this, but she still needed something to clean at least what was around the bullet hole. Clean up the blood, she thought, before you pass out.

     Sam handed her a small bottle of the rubbing alcohol and a tiny piece of gauze. She brought the gauze to the tiny opening at the top of the bottle and poured the liquid onto it slowly before gently swiping it across Steve's bare skin.

     "Be careful with that, Nat," Sam warned, "Don't get that inside the wound. It'll–"

     "–Kill the living cells? I know that." Natasha snapped. "I've taken medical courses before. I know the dos and don'ts. But somebody has to clean up the blood on the surface before it dries." Before I throw up.

     Clint had been standing in the same spot as he was when he first carried Wanda on. He hadn't moved. He was too distracted by the realization of everything that had just happened. But his thoughts were interrupted as Wanda crashed against him in a tight hug and proceeded to cry. And Clint, being the all-good nurturer that he was when it came to Wanda – he didn't object. He just wrapped his arms around her and tried not to think.

~

     A good forty-five minutes had passed with them still on the jet. They had all kind of found a place to settle down in the silence and hope for the best. Natasha had moved into the seat, still next to Steve, with his head rested in her lap. She could feel him breathing against her lower body; which somehow soothed her in the midst of reality. Her eyes were bloodshot and dull and her pale face was flushed with rosy tones from crying. Her fingers were clasped around his wrist – tapping against the soft skin to keep track of his pulse. It was slow, but it was there. You can do it, Rogers, she thought, you can last another fifteen minutes. You have to.

     Sam and Scott had made their way into the row of seats opposite of Natasha. Both of their faces were dull and looked even more lifeless than Steve's. Neither of them was sure of what to do next or what to say. What could they say? At a time like this, things were better off unspoken.

     Clint was sitting on the floor leaning against the backdrop with his knees casually tucked to his chest. He had his eyes closed, but he wasn't asleep – he was rubbing his silver wedding ring between his thumb and forefinger while thinking about Laura and his kids. The fact that Steve was unconscious in the row of seats a couple feet away from him was circling in his mind too, of course – which is why focusing on his family was important to him and his thoughts at the moment... they were the only thing that brought happiness and hope to his mind in times of distress.

     Wanda was asleep on her side in one of the rows of seats with her knees tucked tightly to her chest. She had harsh mascara stains down her face in the shape of tear drops and you could hear tiny breaths of air enter and exit her mouth. She looked like the epitome of a stereotypical teenager who just had her heart broken by her boyfriend – only; she wasn't a stereotypical teenager who just had her heart broken by her boyfriend... she was a teenager who just had her heart shredded by the trauma of watching her mentor get shot. She was Wanda Maximoff – and she looked like she had just been hit by a bus.

     Bucky was still curled up in a ball on the floor, only now he was rocking back and forth slightly like a person on the verge of a mental breakdown – which, to be fair, in a way, he was. He was mumbling things now; things that Natasha couldn't quite make out except for one. It sounded like a prayer to God, "Please... I just got him back... Please don't take him from me again... please, please..."

     Natasha looked away from the horror of Bucky losing his mind in the corner of the jet. She widened her eyes and blinked in attempts to get them to adjust again. She brought her free hand to her face to wipe a newly shed tear from just below her eye socket and then she leaned back in her seat. Steve's breathing was still noticeable against her lap and she exhaled – brushing a short strand of hair out of his face and cupping her hand over his forehead. She looked up at the sky, shook her head, and thought, he's in your hands now, whoever's up there... don't take advantage of my trust.

     Then more tears came flooding silently down her face and she couldn't handle it anymore. She closed her eyes shut, trying to hold her tears back – and while still clinging to Steve's slow-beating pulse through his wrist, tried to think of what could possibly happen next that would result in a positive outcome. Steve won't die, she thought, trying to convince herself. But she knew deep down in her heart that it was probably a lie.

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A/N: I've noticed that the number of views on this story have been increasing extremely quick and that it's more than halfway to 5k!!!!! That's awesome!!! And it's got me thinking that I would do something really cool to honor this story's views and how thankful I am to have so many nice people/Marvel fans reading it!!

So, I've come up with a list of milestone marks in the story (when it comes to views). To help me achieve these milestones, I encourage you to share this story with your friends and continue to read the chapters I upload (<<< gotta get that self pro-mo in lmao)

5k – DEDICATION SPREE!!!When/if I hit the goal, comment "💙❤️" on the most recent chapter and the first 5 people (in honor of 5k) will receive an entire chapter dedicated to them! Dedications will be listed at the end of the next-posted chapter!

10k – FOLLOW SPREE!!!When/if I hit the goal, comment "🌹" on the most recent chapter and the first 10 people (in honor of 10k) will receive a follow from me!

15k – READING SPREE!!!When/if I hit the goal, comment any fanfics that YOU'VE written on the most recent chapter and my 15 favorite works (in honor of 15k) will be mentioned at the end of the next chapter (IF there are even that many commented lolzz). I will be reading ALL of the ones you comment! All 15 favs will be listed at the end of the chapter!

20k – DEDICATION SPREE (PT. 2)!!!When/if I hit the goal, comment "🌀" on the most recent chapter and the first 20 people (in honor of 20k) will receive an entire chapter dedicated to them! All dedications will be listed at the end of the next-posted chapter!

25k – FOLLOW SPREE (PT. 2)!!!When/if I hit the goal, comment "⌛️" on the most recent chapter and the first 25 people (in honor of 25k) will receive a follow from me! Please don't comment if I already follow you!

30k – FANFIC FAVS!!!When/if I hit the goal, I will list my 10 favorite fanfic authors, my 10 favorite prompts, & my 10 favorite works (in honor of 30k)! All favs will be listed at the end of the next-posted chapter!

35k – NON-FANFIC FAVS!!!When/if I hit the goal, I will list my 10 favorite authors, my 10 favorite books, my 10 favorite book characters (1 from each book), & my 5 favorite series (in honor of 35k)! All favs will be listed at the end of the next-posted chapter!

40k – TWO TRUTHS, ONE LIE!!!When/if I hit the goal, we'll play a quick little game in the comments! I will come up with 3 sets of Two Truths, One Lie: MARVEL CHARACTER EDITION to list at the end of the next-posted chapter... And you'll comment down below what you think the 3 lies are!!! Ex:1. Natasha Romanoff was raised in a Russian assassin-training program called The Red Room2. Steve Rogers fought in World War II3. Sam Wilson's late wingman's name was Beyoncé.(#3 would obviously be the lie... Sam did have a wingman in the air force who died during a firefight, but his name wasn't Beyoncé – it was Riley.)Lol PLEASE get this story to 40k views, because that would be LIT in the comments 🔥

45k – TWO TRUTHS, ONE LIE (PART 2)!!!When/if I hit the goal, the winner(s)/the people who came closest to naming ALL of the lies will be mentioned at the end of the next-posted chapter and will also have the entire chapter dedicated to them!

48-49k – Q&A: THE Q's!!!When/if I hit the goal, comment any questions you have for me! The questions can be about myself, they can be about the story and what's to come, they can be about the MCU in general – they can be about anything you like!! I'll be answering ALL of them at 50k!

50k – Q&A: THE A's!!!When/if I hit the goal, I will have the answers to ALL the questions asked at 48k-49k listed at the end of the next-posted chapter!

100k – FACE REVEAL?!?!?! 😶😶😶Lmao probably not...I only put that because I don't think I'll reach 100k haha (it seems kind of unrealistic to me)

Thank you guys so much for reading "TTMAB" and for the constant support of the story's growth. Love you guys!! I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)