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thedeviltohisangel · 4 years

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In The Air Tonight//1

She cherished her new last name. Cherished the memory of Bruce offering it to her. The memory of receiving it. Physically shedding the past and embracing her future. One filled with love and warmth and all of the things she had been raised to never want or need. But Bruce didn’t mind that she kept certain pieces of her old self intact. The pieces of her that enjoyed thrills and excitement and was addicted to adrenaline and walking the line between life and death.

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She was seething and he could tell. Felt it rolling off of her in waves every time he walked passed. It wasn’t that it was hard to keep her happy. It was just hard to keep her still.

“Would you mind at least trying to smile?” he asked gently as he completed another lap of socializing.

“No. It would look worse than my scowl.” He hummed and took another sip of his champagne.

“How can I make it better?” Over the years, Bruce had come to pride himself in his ability to discern what was bothering her. To figure it out and make it better in a way that left others amazed. It always made Alfred smile to watch the familiar intimacy that the two had built over time.

“Unfortunately, you can’t. It’s just one of those days.” They were few and far between ever since she had met him but they never disappeared. He reached down and gave her hand a light squeeze. Sometimes his affection was too much for her on these days. But she still needed to know he was there and understood and ready whenever she was. “Maybe...maybe even a solo kind of night.” She said it with no hint of her previous angst around the edges.

“Is that why it’s one of those days?” The date wasn’t lost on him. To Bruce there were happy dates he kept locked in his head. The day he met her. The day she married him. Her birthday. Alfred’s birthday. And then there were those that were melancholy. The date of his parent’s death. When he first donned the suit. When Wayne Manor burned down. But in the dark recesses of his mind were two dates he wished he could erase. Today was one year since Emilia had dove off the side of a building thinking she was following Catwoman. But it had been an illusion. He didn’t like thinking about it. About the way her body was mangled when he found her. The way his hands shook as he tried to assist Alfred. The way his tears stained her bandages as he cried and prayed and screamed for the days following.

“Yes,” she choked out as she blinked away the tears as she worked through the same memories that he had.

“Then you go solo tonight.” His eyes were molten as they landed on her. Bruce had worked hard to shove away the overbearing nature that he wanted to inhabit. He had sworn at her bedside that she would never leave the Manor again. That she could work with Alfred from the cave every night. Had fooled himself into thinking he could force her into becoming a housewife. He should have known the woman who gritted her teeth at the envelopes addressed to Mr. & Mrs. Bruce Wayne would never allow herself to be sheltered away.

“I love you, Bruce,” she whispered as she allowed herself to indulge with a kiss.

“I love you even more,” he whispered back, his hand coming to the back of her head so she couldn’t drift far and could kiss him again.

“Mr. Wayne, it’s unfair to keep such a beauty hidden away from the rest of us.” They were pulled from their cocoon by a party goer. Someone who did contract work with Wayne Enterprise she thinks.

“Sometimes we need a moment of solace from all the...revelers,” she said with the fake smile Bruce had asked her to put on earlier. There were some other words she would have preferred to label the party guests at but that wouldn’t have been very polite.

“May I steal you for a dance, Mrs.Wayne?”

“Actually, I-” Bruce started, stepping in to save her from her least favorite activity on a good day.

“This is one of my favorite songs, Mr. Irwin. You picked the perfect time to ask.” She returned the favor, squeezing Bruce’s hand before taking the other man’s arm and letting him lead her to the center of the dance floor. It wasn’t the first time, and certainly not the last time, that Bruce thought about how little he deserved someone like her in his life. Let alone as his wife. He watched her sway and spin and laugh while the entire room watched her. No one except him knew the true pain that was underneath her smile. Hidden in the polite conversation she was making. Needing to be mended over before she broke.

“Mrs. Wayne-”

“Emilia. Please.” She cherished her new last name. Cherished the memory of Bruce offering it to her. The memory of receiving it. Physically shedding the past and embracing her future. One filled with love and warmth and all of the things she had been raised to never want or need. But Bruce didn’t mind that she kept certain pieces of her old self intact. The pieces of her that enjoyed thrills and excitement and was addicted to adrenaline and walking the line between life and death.

“My apologies. Emilia, how does a man like Bruce Wayne snag himself such a fierce companion?” She smirked. It was a question they were asked often. The billionaire could have picked any beautiful girl he wanted. One who would devote herself to being a housewife. Drape herself in jewels and over his lap at every event. Have her legs spread for him once he got home. And understand that once her beauty faded, he would turn her in for a newer model.

“He earns her.” But instead of all of that, Bruce had found her. Found her in the mountains. He thought the League kept her around for her beauty. Assumed she was some sort of concubine for al Ghul. Brutally, he learned otherwise.

“Is that the secret?”

“It is no secret. Shouldn’t we all prove ourselves worthy of the companion we seek? Whether it be through physical gestures or emotional connection?” She supposes he got his wife through material gifts. How dreadful.

“Excuse me, but I believe this is our song.”

“Is mind reading another skill you’ve happened to pick up lately?” Emilia smiled genuinely as her husband spun her in a grand circle and pulled her so close she thought they might become one.

“Can only read yours.”

“Well, you have my gratitude.”

“Yeah?” She recognized the glint to his eyes instantly, his hand sliding further down her back.

“Even though coming with you on your plane that day means speaking to strangers and laughing at things that are not funny, I would not take back a single moment.”

“Even the bloody ones?” His tone was softer as his words got more serious. Bruce couldn’t deny that her being with him brought her danger even if she was more than capable of defending herself in the face of it. You never wanted to be the reason your loved ones had sadness behind their eyes. Normally, she was a rock. With and without the mask. You’d never know she was human under all her stoicism. He never wanted to, or felt he needed to, treat her like she was made of glass. He was honest and blunt and didn’t pull his punches when they sparred on the weekends. Maybe he should stop assuming her strength.

“If I was not bloody with you then I would be bloody alone. I much prefer the company.” She smiled up at him and it felt like only the two of them were in the room. Her life was always complicated and always would be. Being with Bruce Wayne wasn’t the reason for her tumultuous inner thoughts or nightmares. They were a part of her. Having him brought more light. Chased some of the dark corners away.

“Look in the sky!”

“I wonder what’s going on!”

“Someone get Jim Gordon on the phone!” They both looked in the direction of the pointed fingers and saw The Bat Signal in the sky. Emilia turned back to say goodbye to her husband and assume her position as host, Mrs. Wayne.

“Go.” Her face transformed into shock as the word came out of Bruce’s mouth.

“But-”

“We agreed you’d go solo tonight. Nothing changes that.”

“Bruce, that signal means you and all these people-”

“Will be politely asked to leave as soon as possible.” She kissed him with a newfound exhilaration. “Now go. Alfred will be your eyes and ears until I can get down there.” After indulging with one more kiss, Emilia walked out of the gala before picking up her pace towards the library. Her fingers found the three keys with ease and she slipped behind the bookshelf as quiet as a mouse.

“Evening, Mrs. Wayne.”

“Evening, Alfred. What am I running into?” She started shedding her dress and jewelry as the butler pressed a button and a clear wardrobe rose from the water.

“Bank robbery with hostages.”

“Normal robbers or are they in clown masks? Exploding penguins? Riddles?” Nothing was ever simple in Gotham. She had learned quickly that everyone had a gimmick.

“Not yet,” he replied. “Is Master Wayne joining you tonight?”

“No, Alfred, we have guests.”

“How’s it going? She complete recon yet?” Alfred looked to his left as Bruce came jogging into the cave. He was undoing his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves, out of breath from his hustle to dismiss the attendees and workers so he could make it down to the southeast corner.

“Yes. I’m not that slow,” she teased over the speakers.

“How many? What kind of weapons? The hostages-”

“Bruce. I’ll cut off comms if you don’t breathe and keep quiet.” He dropped his head and stayed quiet so she knew he had heard and would obey. But Alfred noticed the slight tremor to his hands, the way he was tapping the ground with his foot.

“Why did you agree if you were going to kill yourself with worries, Master Wayne?” he asked as he pressed the button to mute their microphone.

“The way she was looking at me, Alfred...I…”

“Love leaves us powerless sometimes. Particularly when faced by the person we give it to.”

“4 hostiles, 20 hostages. 2 of them children.”

“Weapons?”

“Fully automatic. Be home in time for a sudsy shower, don’t worry.” Bruce didn’t even have time to apologize to Alfred before she was throwing a stun grenade and gracefully falling from the window of the bank. She appeared to the goons in flashes. Gone before they had a chance to get their bearings on her appearance. She took down two before the effects of surprise wore off, the third leveling his gun at her and the fourth at a hostage.

“Alright, Mrs. Batshit, you pick your life or the boy’s.”

“Shoot me.” Bruce had been silent, doing his best to relax, but her words startled him slightly. He had seen her get out of the most dire of situations but she was standing perfectly relaxed, the gun leveled at point blank range. “Pull the trigger.” And he did. And nothing happened.

“She counts her bullets well, doesn’t she?” Alfred mentioned with a jovial smile.

“Need her to start counting my lives,” Bruce replied as he exhaled. Emilia used their moment of confusion to toss a dagger behind her, piercing the the hand of the final hostile and letting the child break free as he howled in agony. Her leg kicked high and knocked the gun from the one who was planning to shoot her, her fist following him to the ground and succeeding in knocking him out. She turned to finish the fourth but saw he was on his knees as if he was waiting for her. As if he was bowing to her. “What’s this?” Bruce muttered as he pressed to turn up the volume.

“I am honored to be in your presence, my Lady.”

“Remove your mask.” It wasn’t a thug as she had been expecting. But rather a woman. One she knew well. One even she feared. “Shiva.”

“I’ve come to bring you home.” Bruce had many questions as he watched the moment unfold in front of him and had to bite his tongue to prevent them all from tumbling out.

“And if this is my home?” Emilia asked, her hand moving to grip the bo staff that was strapped to her back. Shiva wasn’t who they sent to negotiate. Not with her words anyways.

“Then you know what I must do.” It was at that moment the police breached the bank and their guns were pointed at the two of them.

“Emilia, get out of there!” Bruce called out as her and Shiva seemed in no rush to move from their current positions.

“I look forward to our next encounter, my Lady. Being responsible for your only defeat has taken me far.” It was meant to anger her and would have succeeded in initiating their next death match if it wasn’t for Bruce calling out in her ear. Emilia grappled up through the skylight and out of sight before anyone knew any better.

“Get me everything you can possibly find on that woman, Alfred.”

“Yes, sir. What do you think this means?”

“The past has come for her. And they aren’t taking her.”

#bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #christian bale #ben affleck #robert pattinson #batman begins #the dark knight #the dark knight rises

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what-the-buckybarnes · 5 years

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Mellow Yellow

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Fic Summary: You had were yellow, always had been. Until the fateful day when you were red.

Warning: getting shot, blood, pain, angst

A/N: Happy New Year! Gelukkig Nieuwjaar! The first post of 2019. It was about time I finished this. It’s been half finished since like September. ;-;

MASTERLIST

For as long as Bucky could remember, you had been yellow. You weren’t physically yellow, obviously. You just radiated the feeling of being yellow. Every time Bucky was around you, he felt yellow. He felt everything yellow inside him. He could feel the yellow converse you wore, and the yellow hairband that kept your hair in the ponytail. He could feel the yellow sunflowers you kept in your window and adored. He could feel the yellow sun, that you liked to bask in whenever you were free. His favourite yellow was the little buttercup you kept tucked just behind your ear, hidden by your curls. He was the only one who ever seemed to notice it. Yellow just surrounded you, and you felt no shame in it.

You were in a meeting with him, getting briefed on a mission you would be going on. You were fiddling with a yellow string you kept around your wrist. Bucky had put it there. It was a small thing, but he liked giving you very mundane things, and you seemed to enjoy them. You always returned the favour, giving him a particularly shiny coin, or a tiny pressed buttercup, or a feather. He kept them in his mother’s old jewellery box. You had gone with him to the old house and found that it was abandoned with most of his belongings still there, which was a miracle in itself. Now he had bought the house and sat in it sometimes when he felt particularly down. Sometimes, you joined him, just touching his fingertips with your own, the short, yellow painted nails making a small tapping sound on the old flooring. They were always yellow, Bucky noticed.

Bucky was staring at those yellow nails. He was sat opposite you, on your way to the mission. You were in full black tactical gear, but you were still yellow. Your knives had a yellow hilt, and your nails were still yellow, and you still had a yellow hairband, and you still had your string around your wrist, and Bucky could just see the yellow flower peeking out from behind your hair. And you were still yellow in emotional ways. The way you traced lines between freckles was yellow, and your soft-almost-inaudible humming was yellow, and your gaze was yellow. You were the newest Avenger, still fairly inexperienced. You didn’t go on many missions with the Avengers, but the ones you went on were always the most enjoyable ones for Bucky. He loved turning to see you tie up one of the enemies with your vines. He loved staying with you while you made yellow flowers grow in the fields outside of the bases. Yellow flowers were something you always left behind, even if it was just one.

The quinjet landed and the doors opened. Steve was the first out, his shield already out. Natasha had her knives ready to go and Bucky had his gun cocked. You clenched your fists briefly and Bucky saw you pick a small senna flower out of your palm. You reached out to him and tucked it behind his ear.

“For luck,” you whispered. Bucky smiled at you.

“Thank you.” You smiled back at him before stepping out of the quinjet.

You were having the time of your life. Vines were tying up Hydra agents faster than they could come and you were tearing through them to the room where the intel was supposedly held. You didn’t even have to think about it anymore as you got rid of them. Bucky was close behind you, putting a bullet in the head of anyone you tied up. You grew a flower in every bullet wound; you didn’t like death and always grew beauty where there was ugliness. Bucky found it cute and hoped you wouldn’t stop. You made it to a room full of computers. Bucky slammed the door shut and you grew vines over it to lock it. You knew close to nothing about computers so Bucky dealt with that while you stood guard. You played absentmindedly with your powers, growing a small buttercup on your palm. Buttercups were your favourite simply for their tiny stature and innocent yellow colour. You heard fighting through your earpiece and winced slightly every time you heard a gunshot. Beyond that, though, it was silent. To any other, it would have been suspicious, but to you, it just meant you had done your job right. Being the least experienced came with that sort of naïvité. It was to be expected that someone with as little experience actually in the field wouldn’t pick up on that sort of thing.

That’s why it came as no shock to anyone but you when the sudden storm of Hydra agents appeared out of nowhere, guns blazing. You yelled for Bucky, holding out your hand, the yellow buttercup still there. Thick, green vines erupted from your body, crawling out from your shoulders and chest and running along your arms until you directed them at the agents. The vines pierced their hearts and you felt a tear creep down your cheek. You never wanted to kill people with your powers, but you didn’t have much of a choice in this situation. You needed to protect Bucky. Bucky was fully aware of the situation, but couldn’t risk the sensitive information the mission depended on. He looked up every now and again to make sure you were handling it and felt overwhelmingly relieved when he saw that you had resorted to building an enormous dome around the two of you.

You grunted slightly as you built the dome around yourself and Bucky. Building domes were not usually your first choice as they took so long and used up so much energy. You had just about finished it when a Hydra agent slid under a desk, gun ready.

There was a shot.

Your chest burned as something ripped through it.

You fell, and for the first time in your life, you weren’t yellow; You were red. Bright, bright red.

Bucky screamed. This wasn’t right. He dove over to you, kicking the Hydra agent hard enough to elicit a snap from the man’s neck. The man fell to the ground limply, just as you had done moments earlier. Your hand was resting next to you and Bucky saw the small buttercup, tainted with red. He couldn’t help but see you in the tiny wildflower.

“Bucky,” you groaned, hissing through the pain.

“Hey, I’m here. You’re alright. It’s okay,” Bucky whispered gently, pressing a hand to your chest. Your back arched in pain. “Steve, I need medevac. We’re in the intel room. (Y/N)’s been shot.” You heard a faint crackling from his comm, which you assumed was Steve replying. You felt the ground beneath your back, the dirt and small rocks from the bottom of well-worn soldiers’ boots. You felt the warmth of a single stream of light that penetrated the dome. You felt Bucky’s fingers grabbing desperately at your wound, begging for the hole to close miraculously; for you to pull through.

“Come on now,” Bucky whispered. “You’re alright.” You blinked up at him, trying to make sense of the world around you. You weren’t used to such hyperfocus. You’d never been shot before, how were you supposed to be accustomed to the rush of adrenaline that came with it? You gasped out another breath, realising it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Bucky increased the pressure on your wound and you released a low, whining sound.

“Hey, you’re alright. Just gotta wait for Stevie is all. He’ll cover us and we’ll get you some proper help, hmm?” Bucky promised, speaking softly. As if on cue, there was the sound of footsteps and a loud cracking as Steve used his shield to break through the vines.

“Oh my God,” Steve exhaled, bending down next to you. Bucky glanced up at Steve.

“Can you cover us while I carry her and run back to the helicarrier?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve called Bruce, so he’s ready for her. Cho also knows,” Steve said. Bucky nodded and stood up, you in his arms. The red of your blood mixed with the yellow of your soul, basking Bucky in a sunset orange. Sunset, the end of the day. The end of a life. Bucky was suddenly more determined to get you to Bruce. He started sprinting.

You opened your eyes, blinking blearily as you took in your surroundings. White walls. White ceiling. White sheets and white bandages around your chest. You glanced to your right and saw Bucky. His soft hair hung over his face and he was slouched awkwardly in a position that could only bring pain. His breaths came in a steady rhythm as he snored softly.

“Bucky?” You asked softly. His head shot up and his eyes snapped open. You felt bad for waking him up, but he really needed to get some food and sleep in a proper bed.

“Y/N,” he breathed. “Oh god, you’re awake.” You nodded slowly.

“How long has it been?” You asked.

“A-about three days. They had you hopped up on painkillers and sleep meds,” he admitted.

“You’ve been here for three days?” You asked him. He nodded sheepishly.

“Couldn’t leave my best girl all alone, now could I?” He grinned at you. You shook your head.

“Buck….” He stared at you. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you accept him and want him there when she was weak. He was still getting over the fact that you would let his black leech on your yellow.

“Kiss me,” he said suddenly. You looked up at him.

“Now?” You asked. He nodded.

“I mean if you want to. I just...we’ve known each other for like two months but every time I see you I just feel this surge of-“

“Bucky.”

“-and I just needed to get that out-“

“Buck,” you laughed slightly at his rambling.

“-but if you don’t wanna then that’s oka-“

“Bucky. Stop. It’s okay. I wanna kiss you too,” you interrupted. That stopped him. He made eye contact with, properly this time.

“You….you do?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. A grin crossed his face as he leant forward, letting his lips meet yours. You had been yellow, and red. Perhaps Bucky had even turned you a little bit black for a while. But now you were something you had never been. Now, you were white. Now you were pure, untainted, whole. You were radiant and new. You were the white wildflowers and the fluffy white clouds. You were white like Bucky was black.

Taglist: @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #MCU #marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #marvel fanfiction

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differentjokes4differentfolks · 6 years

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WTFIT Chap 12

A.N. AND FINALLY WE GET TO THE NIGHT IT’S BEEN LEADING UP TO!!! As always, you guys, enjoy!! ^-^

AO3

A tuxedo is hardly suitable armor for tonight, but it’s the most inconspicuous one when Bruce Wayne is to appear at the Gotham City Gala instead of Batman. Alfred plans on driving him and Tim to the observatory, Bruce knowing he needs to be ready for cameras, Tim able to just slip away in the distraction. It sounds easy. In theory.

When they arrive at the observatory they’re swarmed by cameras, Alfred opening the door to the car and Bruce blinking at the flash, still not used to the blinding lights even after years of this. Maybe I should wear sunglasses when I get out of the car next time. Tim doesn’t seem to care, flashing smiles this way and that, posing just slightly so that it looks casual. Bruce almost has to pull him along after himself.

“You think they got my good side?” he jokes, nudging Bruce.

“I think they got all your sides,” Bruce says dryly, glancing around. “We’re not here for photo ops.”

Tim pouts. “Fine.” He pulls out his phone, taking a selfie. Bruce can’t help but roll his eyes, Tim noticing. “It’s for my insta.”

“Does anyone even follow you?” Bruce asks, striding over to the center of the building and leaning over the railing. He knows he should be mingling, but his mind is too alert for mindless commentary. If someone comes over he’ll chat, but what he’s really waiting for is the okay from Dick that they’re in the building.

Tim follows him, clicking away at his phone screen. “A couple thousand. They like my hair, I think.” Bruce laughs. Tim looks affronted, but it doesn’t take long before he gives in and laughs along with him.

The scene around them is brightly lit, but still almost ethereal in the naturally dark observatory. People in all different color clothes decorate the room, suits and dresses galore. People flaunting what they have, conversing and swaying to the soft music in the background and holding crystal glasses in their hands, perfectly poised. There’s an auction later on tonight, where most of the money with be raised.

Tim slips away, ready to investigate while still looking like just another visitor, leaving Bruce alone to try to distract if he needs to. Bruce figures whenever Dent’s plan is supposed to be revealed, it’ll be around or during the auction. So he just needs to kill time. Shouldn’t be too hard.

He sees Gordon out the corner of his eye. None of the party-goers look too concerned, Bruce figures living in Gotham has desensitized them to danger, at least a little. An evacuation would lead to uproar, but he’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that.

“Jason, could you drive this car any slower?” Dick feels like he’s part of his seat now, the speed pulling him back. Jason just smirks.

“Too fast for you, Grayson?” He pushes on the pedal a bit more, the car jolting faster. “I love this car, it doesn’t even roar if you stomp on the pedal. No wonder Bruce can sneak around everywhere. it’s so freaking quiet.” He swerves onto a side road, Dick grabbing onto the door handle.

“Jesus Christ, slow down!” He’s got nothing against going fast, but Jason is being absolutely criminal with his speeds. It’s a wonder he can even see anything that blurs past them. Cars beep as they see the Batmobile, whether in anger or appreciation he can’t tell. He can’t even see the expressions on people’s faces. Holy hell, if Jason doesn’t end up killing them both he’s going to strangle him.

At least Jason has the foresight not to park next to the observatory and instead hide it in a nearby grove. Dick’s legs wobble just the slightest bit as he exits the car, leaning on the vehicle. He waits for his heart-rate to return to normal, for his sight to slow down with the rest of the world. Jason jumps out laughing.

“Like a rollercoaster. If Bruce ever doesn’t want this baby, I’m taking it.” He taps the Batmobile, smoothing his hand over the shiny paint job. He glances over at Dick. “You okay?” His voice almost sounds concerned.

Dick holds his hand up to his mouth, keeping his nausea at bay. “‘M fine.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “We should go.”

“You sure you can walk?” Jason asks with a snort. Dick shakes his head to clear it, standing up straight.

“Yeah.”

The observatory glows from here, a few hundred feet away. He’d love to take Barb to a ball sometime soon, she’d look great in a dress. Maybe when they don't have work to do.

Tonight is unusually warm, Dick barely feeling the cold winds through his suit. And Jason, well, he’s comfortable as can be in his leather coat. They run over to the building, Jason deciding to make a little conversation.

“How long has Tim been Robin?”

“I think he started a few months after you...left.” To be honest, the actual events that happened while Jason and Bruce were in the Middle East are hazy to Dick. First he’d heard that Jason had died, then that he was in the hospital, then that he was fine but wouldn’t be coming home. He still hasn’t figured out what the truth is.

“And he’s good?” Jason says, voice neutral.

Dick nods, an awkward move since he’s running. “Yeah. Bruce doesn’t really trust him for anything too big, ever since the incident. I guess he wants Tim to have more experience before tackling a big challenge.”

Jason slows a bit. “Makes sense, but how does Tim take it?”

“He doesn’t complain too much, but I know he’s itching for some adventures of his own. Why?”

Jason shrugs. “Just wondering. He seems nice. You know, from what I’ve seen.”

“You should hang around more,” Dick says. He hasn’t seen Jason in at least a year, no wonder he’s missed out on the new member of the Wayne family.

“Maybe,” Jason doesn’t sound all that convinced, upping his pace again so that he’s ahead of Dick. The conversation is apparently over, leaving Dick to realise the younger man has basically turned into Bruce. Broody, stubborn, and ‘independent’. To be fair, he has a better sense of humor, but the fact of the matter is he and Bruce are more alike than not. He should just come home.

The duo nears the back door to the observatory, opening it quietly to look at what waits for them inside. Jason slips in, Dick following and activating his comm.

“Batman? We’re in.”

There’s the go ahead.

“I need you to scope out the area,” Bruce utters quietly. His eyes flicker as he takes in the whole room, making sure no one is in hearing range. He can’t see Tim anymore, and he wants nothing more than to sneak off, don his batsuit and get into the action. This job might wear him out, but he’d rather do that than go to glittery balls. Apparently star themes mean deck out the decorations with sparkles. It’s a little blinding, actually. Too garish.

As it stands, for now he’ll be protecting the wealthy in his three-piece. He’s made a little conversation, friendly banter, rumours of what’s supposed to be at the auction, what the fundraising goal is. The better the items the more money raised, but nobody really knows what’s up for grabs. Strange.

“Bruce Wayne.” He turns to see Gordon nearing him. He inclines his head in greeting.

“How goes the surveillance, commissioner?”

Gordon gives a one-shoulder shrug, his body language tense. “Nothing’s happened so far.” He stands out from the rest of the crowd, dressed in his usual uniform. A hand rests on his hip, lighting on the gun he always wears. He’d be crazy not to, but the sight of it always rubs Bruce the wrong way. “How’s the party?”

“Nothing’s happened so far,” Bruce says with a smile. Gordon spares a one syllable laugh, likely the only time he’ll laugh tonight. “How’s Barbara?”

“Busy. Lots of schoolwork, you know.” Gordon cards his fingers through his hair. “It’s funny, she almost seems to work more than I do.”

Bruce laughs, though he wonders when, if ever, Barbara plans on telling her father just what she does. He has to be getting suspicious at this point. But he won’t be the one to say anything. It’d be one more thing on Gordon’s list of worries, his daughter helping fight some of Gotham’s deadliest criminals. And judging by the dark circles under his eyes, Bruce figures he should let Gordon focus on this tonight.

He says goodbye and moves on, picking up a glass of champagne as he goes. The moment he does he realises he probably shouldn’t drink anything that could slow him down, offering it to someone he passes. The more he glances at his watch the slower time seems to pass him by, so he decides to walk out onto the balcony for some fresh air.

The stars peek out from behind passing clouds, threatening rain or snow later tonight. The wind rushes past Bruce as he leans over the banister, a telescope to his right. A couple stands there, peering through the eyepiece, shivering in their formal attire. The woman’s wrap does nothing to keep her warm, a thin silk that threatens to blow away. It’s almost scenic.

He closes his eyes and just listens to the people around him, hoping time passes faster. He’d do anything to be with the others, actively doing something instead of just watching for danger on the sidelines, making sure nothing happens up on the main floor. He knows they’re capable, but he hates relying on others regardless.

“Bruce Wayne?” He purses his lips slightly before turning around, a fake smile on his face.

“Yes?” Oh. It’s a solicitor.

The man goes into his spiel of what he’s advertising, Bruce looking at him quizzically and tuning him out best he can while still maintaining an air of politeness. Dick updates him occasionally, Bruce humming and trying to look like he’s agreeing with the man in front of him. His hands clench just a little, a couple of times he’s tried interrupting, he even tries to cut him rudely off at times, but it’s futile. He’s trapped by a salesman on steroids.

His saviour comes in a crisp white suit, a purple flower on his lapel. Bruce flashes Joker a grateful smile, thinking he’ll steer the man away, provide a means of escaping with a clever joke.

No such luck.

Instead the clown decides to drape himself over Bruce, nipping at his ear. “Did you miss me?” he asks, his voice saccharine. The annoying solicitor steps back, eyes wide. Bruce has no choice but to hold Joker, no way he’s just going to drop him, even if he is being a nuisance at the moment. He’s going to cause a scene.

“Of course,” he says. “But I’m in the middle of something.” He gestures to the solicitor, who frowns.

“Who the hell are you?”

Joker steps forward, holding his hand out to shake. “John Doe.”

“Right. Isn’t that a name they give unidentified dead people?” The man says skeptically, arms crossed. Joker pulls back with a pout.

“It’s my name.” He looks back at Bruce as if to say Can you believe this guy? He narrows his eyes at the salesman. “Now unless you were selling ways to avoid annoying conversations, I’d leave. My boyfriend and I are busy.” He keeps his arms around Bruce, waiting. Bruce knows if they weren’t at a social gathering in normal clothes the solicitor would be on the floor. As it is, if looks could kill...

The solicitor hems and haws at the situation, Bruce not wanting to comfort him but knowing how intimidating Joker can be, even when he isn’t out terrorising the city. Finally he mumbles an excuse and walks away, shooting a glance at Joker. Bruce breathes out a sigh of relief. He also shoots Joker a look, a mix of curiosity and annoyance, verging more on the side of the former.

“Your boyfriend?” He asks the man, who relaxes his grip.

“It was the first thing that came to mind,” Joker says flippantly. “Don’t like it?”

Bruce shakes his head. “No, I just didn’t expect it. I like it.”

Joker smiles smugly. “I thought you would.”

“How did you get in?” Bruce asks. This Gala was basically by invitation only, as far as he knows.

Joker’s less than amused by the question. “You don’t honestly think I wouldn’t be able to sneak in, do you? It was easy-peasy.” Bruce focuses on him, his hand lifting up one of Joker’s lapels. “Like the suit?” He places his hand over Bruce’s and flattens it over his chest, where a steady heartbeat pulses under Bruce’s fingers.

Bruce nods appreciatively, noting how it hangs on the clown’s frame perfectly. He doesn’t bother asking where the suit’s from, he doesn’t want to know. “It’s nice. Suits you.”

Joker snickers, keeping his voice quiet so that it isn’t his trademark laugh. “Your puns are awful.” He leans back on the banister, breathing in the cool air. “So, tonight’s the night. You ready?”

“I have to be,” Bruce says, looking out at the crowd. “Anything could happen at this point.”

A half hour to the auction and it feels like the calm before the storm. He’s going to have to just wait at this point, Joker sitting on the narrow railing casually.

A glint catches his eye, a person flipping a coin next to him. He looks up to see the person already looking at him with a grin.

“Nice night, isn’t it? For fireworks?” He says. Any other person would have shrugged it off, maybe commented yes, or how they didn’t know there’d be fireworks tonight. Bruce shrugs, though he’s on immediately put on guard and wants to punch the man in the mouth. The coin gives it away, of course it does. It’s a sign of Harvey’s plans.

“I guess, but I didn’t know there’d be fireworks,” he says, voice air-light. Joker smirks. The man smiles.

“They’re supposed to be explosive, you know what I mean? The main event.”

Bruce maintains his calm demeanor, nodding. “I had a friend who used to do that,” he points out, gesturing to the flipping coin. “Harvey Dent. He’s in Arkham though, right?”

“Didn’t you hear the news? Crazy son-of-a-bitch got out. No one knows where he is.” The man is terrible at lying, Bruce can hear the joke in his voice.

“I hope Gotham’s safe.”

Joker coughs, trying not to turn it into a laugh. “Batman’ll save us. Always does, right? From those evil, nasty villains.” Bruce elbows him slightly, hoping he’ll knock it off.

“Hm.” The man smiles cryptically. Bruce narrows his eyes slightly, taking a glass of champagne off a passing tray. For appearances, again. He takes the tiniest sip, feigning indifference to the man but feeling every bit on edge.

“Anyways, I should get going, this party’s a drag.”

“Aw, what a shame,” Joker says, and Bruce knows he’s fighting not to roll his eyes. “Leaving before fireworks?”

“Never been a fan,” the man says as he walks away. Bruce decides not to follow him, Joker’s grip on his arm tightening.

“I’ve never liked that guy,” he murmurs, taking the glass from Bruce and swirling it. “Too cocky. Harv won’t let me take him out. You’re gonna let him go?”

“Of course not.” He comms Tim, who tells him he’ll make quick work of the man. He’s probably still in his suit, but so long as he isn’t seen he should be fine, Bruce is sure.

A crackling noise comes through the earpiece then, Bruce wincing at the sharpness of it.

“Oracle-”

“Hello, Bruce.”

A chill runs down Bruce’s back. “Harvey.” He edges further away from the crowd, making sure he’s out of earshot.

“Enjoying the gala?”

“Disappointed you’re not here,” Bruce deadpans. Harvey laughs. “How did you escape again?”

“Again? Sorry, Batman, I think you’re confused. Or maybe I pulled a fast one on you.” Bruce can almost see the smirk on the villain’s face, and has never wanted to reach through a phone and throttle someone more. “Anyways, how’s Alfred? A little lonely, I think.”

Bruce’s jaw clenches, his grip on the balcony tight. He doesn’t look at Joker, who he knows is listening intently to what Bruce is saying. “Leave him alone.”

“How about a race?” Dent asks smugly. “You getting here by the time I find the man. Shouldn’t be too hard for the Batman.” There’s a click, and his voice is gone, Oracle’s flooding through.

“He’s not at the manor yet. If you leave now you might be able to beat him there. I’ll warn Alfred.”

Bruce gnaws at his bottom lip anxiously.

“Can’t you let your kids deal with this?” Joker asks, noticing Bruce’s mood. His eyes are clouded over, the way they tend to get on long nights. He’s tense, ready to fight at moments notice. But Bruce shakes his head.

“I don’t want them to deal with everything happening here, not until the worst is over.”

Joker rolls his eyes, dragging Bruce further away from the crowd and into one of the darker halls, where they can’t see the main area. “Bats, they’re old enough to fix this, don’t you think? Let them take care of it.” Bruce listens, and the clown continues, “What about Robin?”

Bruce thinks about it. He could have Tim up on the main floor, nothing to worry about too much...

“Come on, you can’t always be the main hero. Go save your butler, he’s more important. Be selfish, just this once.” Joker’s eyes glimmer in the dark, reflecting like a cats. They focus on Bruce, who knows he’s right. He could trust Tim to do this, he’s been practicing for this for ages. But if something goes wrong… “You’re always taking care of the city, take care of yourself just this time.”

Bruce makes up his mind, albeit with more than a fair share of reluctance. “Alright, fine. Robin could handle this. Let me just check up on how everything else is going.”

Jason and Dick sneak past most of the thugs, rushing into the next room, where they find a whole machine rigged to the walls.

“Holy shit,” Jason breathes out. “They weren’t kidding when they said they wanted all of them dead. Bombs and...did we not get all of Crane’s toxin?”

A moderately large beaker of green liquid rests on top of a crate, a pump siphoning out the liquid into what Dick guesses leads to the emergency sprinklers.

“I guess not. It was probably just a diversion, when it comes down to it.” Dick kneels down next to the timer, glancing at the time. 00:45. “This gives us quite a bit of time, actually.” Right up until a few minutes into the auction, if the clock’s right.

“Don’t jinx us, Dick,” Jason warns. He stands near the door, making sure he doesn’t hear anyone stepping too close to where they are. “Here, I’ll disarm it, you stand watch.” He goes over and nudges Dick away from the timer, the latter standing and taking his place at the door. The walls are cold, the lights flickering. The perfect basement atmosphere, Dick thinks.

“I’ve never seen this kind of timer,” Jason mutters. “Sionis must’ve worked overtime to make it.” He pulls out his tablet, plugging it into the dangerous box. “It’s like the world’s deadliest relay. Everyone puts in their part and Dent finishes the race.”

“Not today he won’t,” Dick says. Steps come closer to the door, and he waves Jason away so that nothing seems out of the ordinary. He steps away from the door, and the thug walks in, the door shutting behind him.

“There’s no way I’m staying here while the bomb goes off. It’s a death sentence,” the thug mumbles. He carries his gun lazily, swinging it around like a baseball bat. Dick rolls his eyes, these people aren’t very loyal. But maybe that’s why they’re expendable in the long run. In any case, it’s time for the man to take a little nap. He steps out from behind, covering the thug’s face with his hand until he goes limp in his arms. Dragging him away so that he slumps against a wall, he returns to his spot at the door.

“Babs? I need you to turn off the mechanism for the emergency sprinklers.”

“Sure, but what about the explosives?”

“They’re on timer, Jason’s figuring it out, don’t worry.”

“I’ll send you what I have, Barb,” Jason says through his comm.

“Right. Is everything else alright?”

“So far so good, I’ll update you.” Dick hears a knock on the door.

“Hey buddy, you okay? You been in that room for a while.” Dick leans on the door, preparing his best thug impression.

He meets eyes with Jason, who watches him expectantly, ready to leap if need be. Lowering his voice, he answers. “Yeah, man, sorry. Just taking a break before the Bat shows up, making sure the bomb’s okay.”

There’s a pause. “You sound sick, you sure you’re okay?” Jason muffles a laugh, Dick faking a cough.

“I’m fine, honest. Just got a little cold, I’ll be right out.” He hears receding footsteps and breathes out a sigh of relief. Jason lets out his laugh, shaking his head.

“Nightwing the sick henchman. Amazing.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Dick retorts. “I’m an amazing voice actor.” A glance at his watch. Twenty-five minutes to the auction. So long as the bomb is disarmed in time they’ll be fine.

Tim looks back over his shoulder as he traverses the main room of the observatory, weaving around people and sneaking glances at the items behind the makeshift stage at the things being auctioned. A couple times he’s been looked at warningly, so he makes sure not to overstep. Or to overstep when he’s sure no one’s looking. Though he isn’t quite sure what he’s looking for. Anything could happen at this point. It’s a pile of fancy vases, jewelry, diamonds... nothing he’s particularly interesting, and nothing he’d count as being out of place. And yet he has a sneaking suspicion.

He makes the mistake of getting caught snooping, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the man says gruffly. He scowls at Tim, who shifts back so the hand falls.

“Sorry,” he tries. “I’m just super curious.” He laughs it off, quieting when the man doesn’t reciprocate. He sure doesn’t look like the usual upper-class type. His coat doesn’t fit him right, he’s not clean shaven, his hair is pushed back messily. Dick steps back away from the items, out of the man’s line of sight and away from anyone’s hearing.

“Bruce, some of these people aren’t the usual kind of millionaires. Just saying.” He states it casually, hand in his pocket as though he were just chatting to a friend though a bluetooth earpiece.

“Got it. No sign of Mr. Dent?” Bruce’s voice is just as relaxed, if Tim didn’t know him better he never would have noticed the slight tension in his tone.

“Not yet. Five more minutes and the auction starts, what do you want to do?”

“Well-”

“Haha! We finally disarmed it! Boy, imagine if it had gone off,” Jason pipes up. “Oh hell, I think they heard us. Dick, why didn’t you stop me?” He goes off his comm. Tim doesn’t know whether to laugh or worry about them now.

“Should I go help? I wore my suit under my clothes…”

Bruce sighs, and Tim can tell something isn’t right with him. “Yes. I’ll take care of things up here for now. But be careful, and hurry back. There’s something I need to take care of.” Tim enters the men’s bathroom, slipping off his coat. He doesn’t bother being too careful with his shirt, he can always get a new one later, but he makes sure to takes his mask out of his pocket. He exits the stall, and shoves his clothes into a bag he’d hidden in the small closet just in case. In hindsight, he hadn’t realised just how prepared he was.

Just as he prepares to sneak out someone walks through the door, blinking at him in astonishment.

“You’re Robin, right?” The man’s eyes are wide, not sure if he should move or stay and talk. Tim stops, fidgeting. He puts his hands on the man’s shoulders, switching places with him with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, but I gotta go, you know, protect you guys, so I can’t really talk.” He rushes out, still grabbing onto his bag, feeling the man’s gaze still on him. Well that was awkward. Wonder if it’s ever happened to Bruce…

The basement is empty save the men crowding around the door, where he assumes Dick and Jason are defending themselves best they can. Tim purses his lips, they won’t get anything done with the barricade of thugs. He sneaks up to the distracted men, pulling one away easily and knocking him out quickly. It’s not the best move and he knows they’ll realise they aren’t alone anymore. But he figures after the second man he takes out he can hide and cause a distraction away from Jason and Dick. Which is basically what happens.

He slides behind a divider, shifting away silently to avoid getting caught. He does not want to get riddled with bullets tonight. Or any night, come to think of it. Footsteps thud past him, and he glances back to where the door is, seeing Jason slip into the room quietly, staying in the shadows. Tim assumes Dick is taking care of any thugs that might have gotten into the room.

There’s a solitary thug stepping a little too close to him, he decides to kick his feet out from under him, knocking his head back hard against the floor and choosing a different spot to hide. He sees Jason taking care of two, though he notices there are less than before. Maybe they were smart and ran before the bomb exploded. Self-preservation is a good quality in a person, it makes them reliable that way. It also leaves less people to waste energy on, at the moment. He meets eyes with Jason, who drops silently to knock a man to the floor. Dick’s finally left the room to take care of the last two men who’d been frantically waving around their guns, looking a little too trigger-happy for Tim’s liking.

When the coast is clear he walks out, Dick passing out high-fives. Jason complies with a weak hand, Tim returning it with more energy. Now all that’s left is Dent, who Bruce can probably take care of, but not in his fancy suit. He’s probably feeling super antsy just thinking about it.

Tim opens his mouth to talk, but he freezes when he hears a click.

“Don’t move, any of you.” Tim fights the urge to turn and face the thug, Dick watching him. Jason growls. “Put the gun down. Your hands are shaking, you probably can’t even use it.”

A round of bullets goes off, flying right past Tim’s ear, who at this point is barely even breathing.

“You think I can’t? Turn around slowly.”

Tim pivots to face the man, trying to stay expressionless.

“There’s three of us,” Dick states. “Think about it. Take down one of us and two more will pin you down.”

The man’s expression is steely, eyes on Dick. Tim nods just the slightest bit at Jason, who brings a hand up to his ear slowly.

“Imagine if we had a blackout right about now,” he says casually. The man turns to him angrily, but Jason just holds his hands up innocently. Barbara’s voice comes through all of their headsets, Tim smiling just the slightest bit.

“Heads up.”

And then the lights go out.

#batjokes #batman #joker #wtfit #chap 12 #my writing #fic #enjoy!#comments and notes appreciated :)

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bbparker · 7 years

Text

Hold onto Me pt.2 (Steve R. x Reader x Tony S.)

Summary: (Y/n) is the newest member to the team with a history with Tony. She’s bubbly and can see the humour in anything- She’s exactly what Steve needs in his darkest hours, except Tony is possessive over her and both build up welts of jealousy over her. Little did they know this can have disastrous effects on those around them.

A/N: So this happened and I LOVE IT! Get ready for your heart to die…

Warnings: Angst, gruesome content, death and blood.

Words:

Song to play on (****) for this chapter: Fix You by Coldplay- here (Play repeatedly until end)

[Part 1]

// Masterlist //

Walking onto the plane, (y/n) could feel the tension. Rolling her eyes, she made her way past Tony and Steve, both who had seats opened next to them. They watched as she ignored their presence and made her way to the front seat. Though she could have used her powers to be in the front seat in five seconds, (y/n) was trying to make a point that an ego or testosterone running wild, wouldn’t be tolerated.

“Hey, how’re you holding up? You end up getting that job with the professor?”

Tony and Steve glanced at each other at Nat’s words but ended up looking over to their common interest. “Yeah, I did. He said they’re ready for me whenever I’m ready,” (y/n) shouts over the noise of the plane, but also to make it clear to the boys she was really leaving. Wanda, Vision and Clint joining them on the plane before it took off. “I thought you retired old man?” “I never could stay away from a good fight, you know me (y/n)” She laughed, happy that one of her friends were back and fighting with the team. When (y/n) had stabilised the plane in the air, she handed the controls over to Natasha and walked to the back of the plane, where small water bottles lay.

Turning around to remind Clint about something, (y/n) came face to face with Tony’s chest, “Can I help you Mr. Stark?” Tony glared a little at the use of his last name, they’d known each other for years and suddenly a tiny thing happens and she’s ready to start from the beginning. “Don’t Mr. Stark me, (y/n). Why are you so upset of the prospect that we have feeling-”” That’s very childish-”” (Y/N) I don’t know about Steve, but I’m sure as hell in love with you and I don’t find that childish. That years later, my fucking feelings have come back and hit me full force.” (Y/N) looked up into Tony’s brown eyes, somewhat in awe of his confession. “Don’t you know how big that is for a guy like me?” “Tony, I-I do, and I’m appreciative of your feelings. However, this doesn’t change the fact that you and Steve are in another fight because of it; that you have changed the team dynamics for it.”

“I’d change anything for you, (y/n). Please, tell me I’m not doing something stupid by falling in love with you.” (Y/n) remained silent, “you’re always doing something stupid tony…but being in love with someone can never be a mistake. Unless it’s with like a kid or a HYDRA agent or something., because that’s just weird.” There was a momentary pause before both Tony and (y/n) were laughing like old friends once again; the tension between the two leaving. “Which reminds me, where’s banner and the kid?” “Bruce, no idea. He went MIA two weeks ago and as if I’d let Peter come on a mission like this…” “Wait, Bruce is missing and you didn’t say anything?!” (Y/n) continued to chide Tony on not telling her this while explained that Bruce needs space.

From the other side of the plane, Steve looked up from his PADD with saddened eyes. He’d heard part of Tony’s speech to know that he’d beat him to the punch, but worst of all he’d probably just lost the only girl he’d ever fallen in love with after Peggy. The two separated, Steve glancing between them and decided to take his chance. It was now or never. Placing his PADD down, he walks slowly, as if approaching a predator, and tapping her on her shoulder. Turning once again, (y/n) mutters, “why is it so hard to get a water bottle uninterrupted here?”

“Uh here” Steve mutters awkwardly, reaching behind her and passing her a water bottle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you…” “No, that’s okay.” (Y/n) smiled up lightly at Steve but he didn’t get the sense of relief that Tony did, in fact it seemed to build. “Is there something you needed Captain?” Scratching the back of his head, Steve stumbles over multiple words, not quite making sense. He’d never actually, out loud, said I love you to a girl and never after someone else had just done so. “N-nothing, I just wanted to grab a water bottle.”

“Oh, okay.” (Y/n) had slight disappointment that only confused her and moved to the pilot’s seat once more. Steve watched her as she did so, sighing in defeat. Looking over to Tony, he smirked, knowing all along that he was never shy with feelings but Steve was the complete opposite. He’d had enough rejection within his life to doubt himself, even eighty years later. Looking down from Tony’s devil-like eyes, Steve grabbed a water bottle and then glanced to his left, towards the cockpit. “Damn it…” He muttered.

(more underneath)

——

“ETA in ten minutes, gear up boys and girls.” Again, allowing Nat to take control, (y/n) made her way to where her gear was lain out next to Wanda’s. “You ready for this snowflake?” She asked the Scarlet Witch. “Hmm, somewhat. I know this isn’t going to be an easy mission, attacking one of Crossbones’ hideouts, but I know our team can pretty much do anything.” (Y/n), glancing over her shoulder, only hummed in some sort of agreement as she looked between a geared-up Iron Man and Captain America. Lingering slightly on the disheartened face Steve seemed to have as he looked at his shield, lost in his own mind. “I’m not so sure about team anymore…”

Grabbing some of her throwing knives and spear, (y/n) sheathed them on her waist and back. Watching as the remainder of the team adjusting parts of their uniform and weapons. Glancing once more behind her, Wanda seemed to follow her eyesight, “Ah, I see you’ve finally discovered the two-idiot’s infatuation with yourself, no?”

“Yeah, I caught them fighting.” (Y/N) was still looking at them, watching Steve as he ran his hands over the colours and the scratches permanently embedded in his shield from T’Challa.

“And what do you think?”

“What do I think about what?” Wanda adjusted her corset-like costume before turning to (y/n), “about them being in love with you? Have you chosen one?”

“Chosen one? I don’t think this is the time or place for relationships, Wanda. Plus, I’ve already been transferred over the Xavier after this mission, you know that. A relationship would definitely not work then.”

“You’re so serious about this (y/n) … plus you didn’t say you didn’t like one of them.” Wanda smirked and crossed her arms, now leaning her hip on the wall. “Well…” (y/n) said turning to look over at both men who seemed to openly ignore each other, sighing. “They’re both amazing guys, don’t get me wrong but- ““-but you don’t want to hurt them…and you already have a certain someone on your mind!” Wanda squealed. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, “oh no I certainly don’t!” Turning back to her station he pressed the button to close it and turned towards the back of the jet. Stretching her legs slightly, (y/n) attempted to stretch the suit out at the same time. It was skin tight but not as flexible when it goes unused.

“Liar!” Both girls laughed, catching the attention of three superheroes.

——

It seemed they undermined the enemy and they had obtained some mutants on their side. Even with (y/n)’s super speed, the other mutant’s powers seemed to weigh in against her. A pink haired girl threw out a force field, which (y/n) ran full force into. “Gah!” She fell to the ground, her whole-body throbbing from the prolonged running. Blood dribbled into her mouth and down her chin from her nose, (y/n) quickly hiding it away with her sleeve. The blood just smearing across her face and making her appear even more threatening. “(Y/n), you okay?” Clint asked as he placed a hand on her back as she sat up, blinking rapidly to get rid of the black spots. “I’m good, pfft…” Standing and slightly wobbling, Steve’s voice finally calls it. “Fall back, there’s no way we can break through the wall of mutants!”

“C’mon, let’s get back (Y/N).” “I’m not going to argue!” She yelled as they jogged back, both too exhausted to run; the enemy kept firing from the large guns atop the mountainside.

A huge explosion rocks the Earth, stemming from a couple meters away from (y/n) and Barton. “Shit, they’re ammo’s just getting bigger!” Tony yells over the comms. As the communication continues, Nat notices a lack of absence from her two friends. “Barton, (y/n)? Has anyone got eyes on Barton or (y/n)?”

The comms went quiet, two bodies lying in the dirt, still. “(Y/n)? Barton?”

Still… nothing.

….

Muffled sounds enter her ears, more like the shout of her name. “(Y/N)! Where are you! Please tell me you’re okay!” It was Steve. “I-I… I’m fine. The missile went off near Barton and I but we’re both fine. An audible sigh of relief went throughout the team. “I’M DEAF!” A man shouts near (y/n). Looking over she found Barton looking around until he spots her. “You’re deaf you half-wit!” Being able to read lips, Barton laughs, “oh yeah…” Spotting the hearing aid developed by Tony on the ground, (y/n) picked it up and shoved in in his ear. For a moment, both just sat there staring at nothing, as if the people around them weren’t in a battle.

(Y/n) came back to the world and turned to Barton once again, finally noticing his injuries. “Clint! How do you not feel that!” “Wha- oh.” A very large piece of shrapnel had landed within his thigh. Standing, (y/n) put Barton’s arm over her shoulder but an unnatural gust of wind blew past both, blowing them on their backs again. A face appeared above (y/n) with long hair like fire and green piercing eyes, “So slow,” and then they were gone. Another speedster, “shit” (Y/N) said.

Putting her finger to her comm, (y/n) began ordering some of her team. “Someone get to my location, southwest of the forest, and get Barton! We have another speedster in the field! I repeat we have another speedster!” The panic was clear in her voice, she’d only met another speedster once and thy were luckily a friendly. This one, however, was playing for the other side and judging by her exhaustion, she was almost no match. Zipping to Barton she ripped some material from his shirt and tied it around the top of his leg quickly to try and prevent further blood loss. “Be safe…” (y/n) said to Barton, kissing on the forehead and zooming off the stop the speedster from touching her team, before he could say anything. Taking out her comm, to stop herself from being distracted, (y/n) closed her eyes, the firing of guns ceased to exist to her, only footsteps.

The thumping of fast feet was heard to her left, instantly (y/n) dashed that way, her sliver lightning mixing with green. She could see the other girl infant of her, aiming for Tony, who was amongst the other team members standing in a circle defending themselves. Pushing herself to run faster in her exhaustion, she tackles the red-haired girl. Both girls seemingly appearing from nowhere, scared the daylights out of everyone. However, they were unable to distinguish who was winning the fight due to their fast movements. Both stood across in the open areas of the forest, the Avengers, besides Nat and Barton, stood watching as their sides ran full force at each other. The red haired super kicked (y/n) directly in the stomach at full force, making (y/n) fly back into a tree. “(Y/n)!” Tony yelled at your weakened state, barely unable to get up from the floor.(****) Tony and Steve could only watch as their love was beaten before their eyes, attempting to interfere only to be met with (y/n)’s pleas to stay back.

Standing from another beating, she raised her fists. The blood smeared her face, some of her suit torn on the torso and her whole left sleeve torn off. Turning to Wanda, Steve began yelling for her to something, “I can’t Steve! I can’t get a read on her she’s moving way to fast!” The whole team panicked as the girl they’d come to all love in the six months she was a part of their team, get ripped to shreds; outmatched by someone younger, stronger and not exhausted. “We can’t do nothing!” Steve yelled, trying to get his team to act; even Vision had lost hope, not as quick as the speedster either.

They all watched as (y/n) was held up by her throat, “you’ll die here, for nothing. For nobody!” She screamed, hand vibrating and ready to run it through (y/n). Tony couldn’t do anything, he’d lost hope, but Steve couldn’t and wouldn’t; he would be damned if he didn’t at least try. “NO! PLEASE!” Steve sprinted towards the scene, he’d do anything for her, even the impossible. (Y/n) reached out her hand as if to stop of hold him, she wasn’t sure and it all seemed to go in slow motion as the other speedster caught what she was so desperately reaching for. Her safety. Her everything. The Captain, of course. Smirking, the green-eyed brought her face to (y/n)’s, “But first I’ll make you watch your beloved die, and there’s nothing you can do, you’re weak… pathetic!” Laughing, she threw the girl to the ground and picked up a rather large branch; (y/n)’s world stopped. “No…” She said weakly from the ground, watching as the girl got ready to charge at Steve, a radon branch propped in her hands to stab him with. “STEVE, RUN PLEASE!” He didn’t listen, his only goal was to get to her- the love of his life. He would not let another love slip through his fingers, not again.

“NO!” She screamed as the speedster with green lighting was already jumping, ready to strike Steve’s heart and he wouldn’t be able to move fast enough to block with his shield. (Y/n) can see his baby blues from here, he’s so frightened but he’s fighting it, for her; eyes full of too much love for her to leave her. Tears streamed her face, “you foolish man!” and suddenly…she was there. In front of Steve. Both speedsters were wide eyed as they eyed each other. (Y/n) coughed, blood spluttering her chin and uniform. As once last act of strength, (y/n) sped up her hand and phased through the other girl’s body, grabbing onto her heart. “So slow.” (Y/n) muttered as she crushed in in the palm of her hand, and dropping her to the ground. Something warm and numb was covering her torso.

There was a pause, “(y-y/n)?” Turning as slow as she could to face Steve, “Steve?” And then she was on the ground. Sounds were muffled once again, and she could see his face above hers. “(Y/n)! Nonono, please, PLEASE! God, please (y/n)!” His pleas were the only things she could hear, his face the only thing he could see. Though she was sure there were others, her focus was on him. “Steve…” Steve’s helmet was now removed and his tears streamed freely as he looked upon the love of his life. It kind of reminded (y/n) of that song by cold play song that Barton used to play throughout the tower all the time. Something about tears and losing something you couldn’t replace… when you’re too in love to let it go.

“I-I’m sorry Stevie, looks like I wasn’t ready to let you go just yet…” Gasping for breath, (y/n) smiled though knew she had limited time. Lifting a hand to Steve’s face as his tried to stop the bleeding around the thick branch inserted through the centre of her body. “no, you’re fine. You’re gonna be just fine baby, please just stay a little longer. Keep your eyes one me.” “You know you have the most expressive and beautiful pair of eyes Mr. Rogers? S-s-spotted it t-the f-first time I met you, d’you r-remember?” It was getting harder to talk and Steve’s cry turned into full on sobs as he ordered the team to get the jet here and now. “I-I remember, Baby. Zoomed right into my face the first time we met.” A sob and a laugh left his mouth remembering how stunned he was by your mere presence and now looking down he still thinks your beautiful, just broken. “He, yeah those were the days. I-I didn’t call Xavier” She muttered, her speech slowing and becoming inaudible.

“GET THE JET HERE NOW!” Steve screamed, he knew you were leaving, “Please stay with me (y/n)! Don’t leave me!” “I didn’t call because I knew I’d never be able to leave… not you…. not ever…” Steve put his forehead to hers, blood smearing onto his face and in his hair but he didn’t care.

“Please (y/n) don’t leave me now! You said you weren’t going to be able to leave then, so please don’t leave now!” The jet landed behind Steve but the noise couldn’t be heard by either people. “S-Steve, open your eyes…” He did and came face to face with her eyes, she admired the sea blues that looked back at her. The colour sent her into worlds unknown and finally he leaned in and kissed her. Not a goodbye but a promise.

Pulling away, Steve felt (y/n)’s hand on his cheek, smiling lightly at him. The next minute her body gave a great big heave before her limbs became limp, the hand leaving his face and smile dropping. “NO! (Y/n) please, don’t… I love you, I love you! I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before, but I’ll say it now, just please come back!”

The Avengers stood back and watched the man they called Captain and the speedster they’d come to love, be destroyed and there was nothing they could do but watch as he screamed for his beloved.

Part 3?