Thursday - March 31, 2016

Gramercy, NYC

DayBreak Cafe and Bakery

08:54 a.m.

"Catherine With A 'C'! Your order is ready!"

Piercing blue eyes flicked upwards to gaze at the barista currently holding up a styrofoam cup and a small brown bag, a bored expression glazing her face as she passed the items to the blonde woman approaching the counter.

His leg bounced rhythmically as he turned away, his thumbs tapping against the sides of his cup in a steady, calming manner. Tap, tap, tap, tap...

The soft noise was enough to keep him focused, which was difficult when taking into consideration the environment around him. The loud hissing of the espresso machines in the background mingling with the beeping of machines he'd never seen before, nor knew what they were for. The overpowering scent of coffee, sugar and milk wafting through the air, seeming to assault his senses. The unbelievably loud drones of the conversations going on around him, voices twisting around each other as people fought to be heard over each other by constantly growing louder and louder. The noise grated through his head, piercing his skull painfully as it seemed to bare down on him from all angles in an overpowering wave of shrill voices, loud hisses and nauseatingly sweet scents.

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

Taking a deep breath, Steve shut his eyes and focused on the feel of the cup underneath his fingers, the rough texture rubbing up against his skin. Slowly, the wave began to settle as the waters grew calm once more, the noise eventually settling into a steady drone in the background.

His leg bounced rhythmically underneath the table while the soft sound of his thumbs tapping against he sides of his styrofoam cup were enough to distract him from the sound of people talking and cars honking outside. The scent of coffee and warm muffins was nearly overpowering in the building, though the many people occupying the space didn't help aid the already-cramped feeling.

Even when he'd been younger, as in pre-serum young, he'd never been comfortable surrounded by crowds of people. Something about the cramped feeling of being clustered and crowded made his skin crawl in a manner he'd often forget. Then again, he'd forgotten how a lot of things felt after the serum. So he supposed it was somewhat comforting to know that there were still some things that hadn't changed.

Of course, it just happened to be one of the things that made him uncomfortable...

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

Quickly allowing the soft noise to drag him back into the present, Steve narrowed his eyes as he quickly refocused. Taking a second to adjust the sunglasses on his face, his fingers brushed up against the baseball cap atop his head as he reached for the earpiece.

His voice was quiet and barely detectable to anyone around him, though he was sure he wouldn't have been heard by anyone even if he'd been speaking at a normal volume given how loud it was in the cafe.

"Any sign of the target?"

He had a job to do, after all.

He could practically feel the vibrations of the earpiece rattling against this skin as a voice broke through the fuzz. "Negative so far."

Making sure to keep his head low, Steve twisted around slightly in his seat, making out a slim figure standing near the back of the shop. She had a jacket on with the hood up, shrouding her face in shadow save for the slight gleam of her sunglasses glinting against the bright lights of the cafe. Keeping her gaze upwards as she pretended to silently read the menus up above the baristas' heads, Natasha reached a hand upwards to seemingly brush a stray strand of hair out of her face, her fingers pressing against the earpiece as she did so. "But it's still early." She said softly.

"Nothing from up here, either." Sam's voice cut through the feed, Steve's gaze instinctively lifting towards the ceiling, where the man was currently keeping watch from above. The super soldier narrowed his eyes. He'd expected them to show by now.

Tap, tap, tap...

"Okay, now...just how sure are we that they're actually gonna show?"

Steve sighed as his gaze traveled to the other end of the store, where a man in a dark jacket and a similar baseball cap to his sat by the window, fiddling with a packet of sugar while a bored expression marred his features. Clint adjusted his hat as his hand shifted down to tap the earpiece. "I mean, I can't be the only one who's wondering whether or not this is a lost cause."

Natasha rolled her eyes from her position. "No, but now I'm wondering why we decided to bring you along." She muttered, though her voice still filtered through the coms.

From across the room, Steve could see the archer fold his arms and lean back in his chair. "Well excuse me. But same of us maybe don't want to be tossed back into a cell. A cell, I'd like to add, that neither of you had the pleasure of experiencing, thank you very much." He snapped before adding, "Sam, back me up here, man."

There was a pause before Sam's voice cut back in. "If you had to listen to Scott's god-awful singing in there, you'd be pretty pissed too, you guys."

Clint gave a small victorious huff.

"Can we maybe focus here, please?" Steve interjected, casting small glares to both Clint and Nat, who turned away with slightly disgruntled looks on their faces. He let out a small sigh as he pressed his fingers against his eyes underneath the glasses.

"Look, I know this is risky. But we've been tracking these guys for months. We know they meet up in public areas to try and hide in plain sight." He explained, Natasha's voice cutting in as well. "And from what we were able to get from those two guys we caught a week ago, they said the next meeting was gonna be here." She said, Steve's mind snapping to when they'd taken down one of the smaller plants of workers, squeezing the small hint of information from one of the guys before the police had arrived.

Clint scoffed. "Right. Cause criminals have been known to be such trustworthy people in the past."

Natasha stole a small glance over toward the man. "We trust each other, don't we?" She asked, her face unreadable.

Clint's, however, was not as he glared back at her, hands clenching slightly. "We're not criminals." He growled, the anger tangible in just his voice alone as it shot through the coms.

"We are to the people who matter." The woman shot back.

The archer turned towards her, teeth gritted. "Like we should-"

"Enough."

Steve's voice was enough to silence both of them as they held their gazes for a moment longer before turning away, instantly becoming ordinary customers of the cafe once more. The super soldier continued to tap his fingers against the sides of the cup. Upon noticing the tense posture of both of his teammates, the man couldn't help but let out a breath as he continued in a more resigned tone, "We'll talk about this later."

"Oh, great." They all startled as Sam piped up. "We have that to look forward to. The Clint/Natasha Wars, Part 53." If they could have seen through the coms, they were all positive Sam would have been rolling his eyes. "I'll be sure to save a seat."

Steve lowered his head with an aggravated sigh as he opened his mouth once again, only for Natasha to beat him to it. "Hold up. I got something."

Instantly, the others were silenced at the woman's harsh tone, Steve's muscles reflexively coiling as he lifted his gaze, eyes scanning the room for any sign of strange movement or suspicious characters.

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

"Side entrance. Dark hoodie. Sunglasses."

The super soldier washed his eyes over the crowd as the description thudded in the back of his head. After another minute of searching, he rested his gaze on a shadowed figure making his way over towards one of the back tables in the corner of the cafe. He was average height with a muscular build, the hoodie hiding most of his face save for small tips of dirty blonde hair poking out.

Sitting at the table already, there was a man with common reading glasses perched atop his too-long nose, his dark brows knitted together as he stared down at the newspaper laying on the table next to his steaming cup of coffee, which from what Steve could tell, didn't seem to have been touched at all.

He had long black hair that stretched down to his shoulders and a long jacket reaching down to the floor, covering his crossed legs. He didn't look up as the first man approached, silently pulling out the chair across from him as he took a seat.

From where he was sitting plus the added noise of the busy coffee shop, it was impossible to hear what the two were beginning to say as their voices were drowned out in a sea of other swelling noises and shouts.

However, with a small swish of red hair, Steve already knew Natasha was on the move.

Casually walking away from the wall she'd been perched on, the woman moved forward and began to weave around the bustling crowds of people, slipping past the table their suspects were sitting at. Steve was just barely able to detect the woman's hand carefully reaching out as she attached a small round disk about half the size of a penny onto the back of one of the men's chairs, moving away just as casually.

Silently, she walked past Steve as well, pausing as she reached the chair opposite from him at the table. Pulling it out, she quickly sat down as she reached into her pocket and retrieved another small device. This one resembled the communicators already in their ears, if not much smaller.

Pulling out the comm set already lodged in her ear, she carefully attached the new device to the communicator before slipping it back in her ear, the dim blue glow of the device quickly being covered up as she brushed her hair over her ears.

A small flicker of static made Steve cringe slightly as the noise was amplified through his eardrums, but it eventually settled down as the sound of nearby voices began to fill his ears. And they weren't his teammates.

Flickering his eyes up for a moment, he was able to make out the two men at the back table. The last to arrive had his arm propped up on the back of his chair while the other continued to stare down at the newspaper.

"Anything interesting happenin' today?" The first man asked, gesturing to the paper with a lopsided smirk on his face. Now that he was seated, Steve could make out more details. His face was scratched up and his chin was covered in stubble, as if he hadn't shaved in a while. The look resembled that of a homeless man. His nose was crooked, like it had been broken many times over, and there was a small scar running through one of his eyebrows.

The other man let out a small sigh as he set the paper down, resting his elbows on the table as he folded his hands together in the air. "Nothing much, honestly." He replied with a shrug. The slightly more serious nature of his tone and face gave Steve the impression that he had more authority in the situation, if only slightly.

He glanced back at Natasha as the woman gave him a similar look, confirming his suspicions.

The man who'd originally started out at the table removed the glasses from his face and tossed them down haphazardly onto the table, making Steve wonder whether or not he actually needed them, or if they were just another part of his disguise. He was willing to bet on the latter. "How are we doing, Mark?" He asked, his tone taking on a hushed quality as he stared back at his partner.

The other man - Mark - as he had been called, gave a small smirk as he gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "I got the boys working full-time now. They were a bit testy to start, but operations are running smoothly and we're getting plenty of clientele so they've settled." His voice carried over through the coms.

His partner didn't seem to feel the same sense of lackadaisical content as he gave a firm frown, pressing his fingers against his lips as he furrowed his brows tightly. "Nothing but a bunch of low-life thugs and common street criminals." He muttered.

Mark cocked a brow as he tossed one hand dismissively into the air. "Well...yeah. I mean, who else would we be selling to?" He asked. "It's not like we can just go tossing this shit out to whoever, you know."

"See, that's your problem, Mark." The other man said as he pointed a finger at him. "You're not thinking big enough. We're dealing with some serious tech here, man." He murmured quietly, though the hidden speaker was still able to pick up on each and every word. "You really think there aren't thousands of people who want to get their hands on some of that stuff?" He leaned closer, eyes narrowed. "People with a lot more money than a bunch of fucking gang members."

Mark stared hard at the man before him, letting out a breath as he gave his partner a hard look. "What are you pickin' at, Nicky?"

Nicky leaned back in his chair as a large grin split his face, revealing a row of stained, crooked teeth. "I'm saying I think I got us a job. A big one."

Steve narrowed his eyes as he glanced back at Natasha, who stared at him with a knowing look in her cold eyes. From across the cafe, he could just make out Clint tapping his fingers against the table he sat at, brows knitted together in concentration as the archer listened in.

Turning away, Steve stared back down at his cup as the voices of the two men filled his ears again.

Tap, tap, tap, tap...

"I'm still working out the details, but if I can hook this guy, it'll be a huge profit for us." Nicky grinned. "These dudes mean business."

Mark raised a hand and scratched at his chin. "How so?" He muttered, still looking a bit unconvinced.

Nicky paused for a moment before letting out a sigh, shaking his head slightly as he ran a hand through his greasy hair. "I don't know, man. They're pretty hardcore, if you know what I mean." He grimaced slightly, Mark letting out a sniff.

"Well do you have any idea who they are?"

"That's just it, Mark. Never seen any of their faces." He scoffed. "They're always wearing these stupid masks and..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing. "...there's gotta be some shit in those things that makes their eyes glow or something." He muttered, glancing down at the floor as he mulled it over.

"Weird..."

Steve furrowed his brow as the words filled his ears. Masks... He thought to himself, mind subconsciously drifting to the dark black colors and harsh markings of the masks the German Hydra soldiers had adorned back on the battlefields. Maybe...but it seems like a bit of a stretch. He murmured, realizing that wearing such a thing nowadays in modern business might be a bit off-putting.

Quickly shaking the thoughts from his head, he quickly tuned back into the conversation, eyes hard as he glared down at the table.

Nicky snorted. "I know, right?"

His partner curled his lip as he leaned his elbows onto the surface of the table. "Hold up. IF you don't know anything about these guys, then how do you eve know they're legit?" He snapped.

Nicky narrowed his eyes. "Look, man. All I know - and all I need to know - is that their main guy's a high roller." He muttered with a sickening smirk.

From across the table, Steve could make out Natasha furrowing her brows at that. He glanced up at her, giving her a small questioning look, to which she responded with a narrowed look of her own. He's have to ask her about it later.

"I don't know which one it is. There's plenty out there nowadays, but that means he's got big bucks to pay us." He explained, tapping one of his knuckles against the table softly. "So we gotta be ready to grant him a nice little shopping spree if you know what I mean." He snickered.

Mark let out a sigh as he ran a hand down his face, resting it against the side of his cheek as he rubbed his fingers against the lines of stubble. "We'll need to start getting the other stations up and running if that's the plan, Nicky."

"Well, Mackview is still our biggest operator yet so the keep focus on there." The man responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "For now, keep grouping in the small fish - thugs, gangs, crooks - all that shit until I can wrap this deal down. Got it?" He muttered.

Clint lifted up his head from the other side of the cafe, Steve catching his eye as he did so. The archer's eyes hardened as he mouthed the word "Mackview" to the super soldier, Steve giving a small nod. It was a start.

Mark lett out a small scoff as he rested his cheek against his propped-up fist. "You better be right about this, man."

"Trust me, if things goes down the way I plan, this'll set us up bigtime." He sneered.

Mark paused for a moment as he seemed to drink in the other man's words before he let out a small breath, giving a nod as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "So how are you gonna get in contact with this group? I mean if they really mean business-"

"Guys. We got a problem."

Sam's terse tone cutting into the coms had all three fugitives sitting up straighter, regretfully pulling their focus away from the conversation still filtering in through the earpieces. "What is it, Sam?" Steve hissed, glaring at the pair of suspects before glancing up towards the ceiling, switching the link on the coms away from the conversation and back onto their private channel, cutting off what the two had currently been speaking about.

"We got company." Was all he had to reply to have all three Avengers staring at each other for a split second before they each stood up from their seats, fighting to keep their motions casual and calm as their hearts raced and their muscles coiled in anger and frustration.

"How many?" Natasha growled, her tone low and dangerous.

There was a beat of silence before Sam's voice picked up once again. "Roundabout patrols are coming into the area to do a sweep. Four police cruisers. Two vans. Twelve guys in total. Four FBI from what I can make of them." He answered as Steve slowly tossed his cup in the trash as Natasha moved closer to him, taking his arm as the pair once more disguised as a couple. Of course, Steve was used to the woman's faux advances nowadays and simply wrapped his arm around her waist, fighting to keep his fingers from clenching into a fist as he grit his teeth.

"They spot us yet?" Clint asked, rising from his seat as well, adjusting the glasses on his face.

"I don't think so. They're not making any advances towards you guys. But their scoping the area and making their way closer to ya'll so you better get out of there now if you don't want them to make you." He instructed, the frustrations he was feeling coming through in the words he spoke.

Barton threw Steve and Natasha a glare before turning to glower at the tabletop. "We're finally starting to learn something." HE growled, the true unspoken words hanging in the air - you really think we can just leave now?

Natasha caught his look and narrowed her eyes. "We won't be able to do anything if we're caught."

Clint said nothing as his eyes burned, his head lowering as he turned away. Steve took a deep breath. "We need to move. Sam, meet us at the rendezvous point. Don't get spotted. Whatever it takes." He ordered as he and Natasha began to make their way towards the entrance. He paused at the door, keeping his head forward as he spoke again. "Wait two minutes, then follow us out."

Barton didn't look at him as he gave a small nod.

Taking a deep breath, he stole a small glance at Natasha, who said nothing. She simply blinked at him and gave a small reassuring squeeze of his arm. Nodding to himself, he steeled his heart and opened the door to the cafe.

The heat circling through the walls of the cafe only made the brisk air outside all the more colder. Chills ran down his spine as he and Natasha walked down the steps of the cafe and onto the concrete below. Despite the warning bells in his head, Steve couldn't help but steal a glance up.

Across the street, police cars were lining up along the sidewalk up the block and farther down the street. Cops were willing about the bustling crowds currently walking about, eyes peeled and heads swiveling. Farther down the street, he could make out the large black vans that Sam had pointed out, no doubt housing some pissed off FBI agents.

Ripping his eyes away, Steve focused back in on keeping his movements casual as he walked down the street, Natasha by his side. Thankfully, the street was pretty busy with other occupants bustling and shoving past each other.

Then again, on a less positive note, there were also officers milling about the crowds as well, eyes scanning for their faces. Faces that were extremely recognizable.

Subconsciously pulling the lip of his hoodie down just a little more, Natasha leaned closer to him as she kept her eyes peeled on the street. "I thought we had Sam go public on the east side so this exact thing wouldn't happen." She muttered.

It was true. The entire reason they'd even humored the idea of purposely being spotted was so the people who wanted to catch them would be thrown off. If they thought they'd caught a whiff of the "Rogue Avengers" trail, then they should have assumed that the group would bail on the city as fast as possible to try and get away, thus leading the search parties away as well.

Obviously, that was not the case.

He leaned down. "Guess they're not taking any chances." He growled, eyes narrowed.

Instinctively turning his head away as a cop walked by, a little too close for comfort. We need to get off this street. He thought to himself, realizing they were much too exposed walking where they were. The rendezvous point was actually an old storefront that appeared to have been closed down for quite some time located a few blocks away from the cafe. They'd stored their bikes in the back lot of the store, away from any prying eyes. Finding such a spot hadn't been all that tricky.

Getting back to it, however, would prove to be much more difficult.

Watching another pair of cops walk closer, Natasha whipped out her phone from her back pocket and lowered her head and kept her eyes locked on the screen, hiding her face from view as Steve looked over her shoulder, hoodie shrouding his features in shadow.

His muscles would remain tense even as the cops walked past, mainly due to the fact that the officers had lingered on the pair for a moment before moving on. Natasha glanced over her shoulder before making out another officer walking slightly ahead of them. "We're too exposed out here."

Steve didn't bother in nodding as the cop moved closer. Scanning the immediate area, he noticed a bus stop a few feet from them near the street. Grabbing Natasha, the two quickly stepped away from the crowd and pressed up against the back billboard of the bus-stop. Leaning his head out slightly, Steve watched the officer walk past, fingers twitching against his side.

He grunted as he felt Natasha elbow him in the side, turning back around to face her. She angled her head to something across the street. Narrowing his eyes, the super soldier could just make out the large green sign and the steel metal handrails leading down into the underground tunnel. The Subway. Of course!

"Come on. Hurry up." He whispered as they quickly moved away from the bus stop and made for the street. The sharp sound of car horns sounded as they haphazardly crossed the street, not even bothering to wait for the crosswalk. Steve leaned down as they moved. "You know, I distinctly remember you telling me that when you're on the run, you gotta act like there's nothing to run from." He muttered, throwing a look over his shoulder as drivers flipped them off.

"I'm not really getting that impression right now."

Natasha didn't bother looking up at him as they stepped onto the other side of the street. "That was when there weren't two dozen cops stepping right on our tails." She shot back. "You really want to try and act like there's nothing to hide, Mr. Number One Fugitive?"

He threw her a small glare but said nothing, begrudgingly realizing she had a point. The last time he'd run from the law with her, the public hadn't known about it, merely a few - albeit corrupt - SHIELD agents.

That was not the case this time. This time, the entire world knew about their status. The entire world was looking for them, which made it much harder to try and simply blend in considering the people he was trying to blend in with could reveal him at anytime. All it would take is one fan staring at his face for a second too long.

"Can't believe I'm starting to miss the days where the only people out to get us were a couple of HYDRA goons." He muttered as Natasha threw him a small smirk. "Well, wait a couple hours. You might get your chance at them again."

He said nothing as they approached the subway tunnel, only for their steps to falter as they turned the corner.

"Shit..." Steve growled, Natasha not even bothering to tease him, for she was thinking the same thing.

Standing right at the entrance to the tunnel were two cops, each individually checking people before they descended down into the tunnel. Quickly moving off the main sidewalk, the two pressed themselves into one of the nearby alleyways between the two storefronts outside the subway.

"We need to get down there. It's the only way we're getting through this without being spotted." Natasha growled, realizing the number of cops quickly filling the streets was too much, even for them. Even for her. "We need something to draw them away. A distraction."

Steve leaned his head out to stare at the two cops, nearby officers catching his eye as well. He pressed his hand to the wall, the cold brick grazing his fingertips. He narrowed his eyes as he realized the wall belonged to a popular department store. A department store with a security alarm. A pretty loud one.

"Or someone to cause a distraction."

Natasha turned to him at that, eyes dark. "No." She hissed instantly.

"When they leave, you get down that tunnel as fast as possible and meet up at the point. Clint will probably already be there when you do." He explained, completely ignoring her remark. "I'll meet you both there as soon as I lose them."

Natasha wrapped her icy grip around his arm. "Rogers. I swear to God..." She snarled. "It's too dangerous. We'll find another way around."

He turned to her. "Natasha. More and more officers are starting to patrol as we speak. And the second they're done here, they'll move onto the next block. And the next. How do you propose we avoid them? Better question: how are we supposed to avoid all of them?" He asked, gesturing to the crowds of people still walking down the streets.

He pulled his hoodie down farther over his face. "This is the fastest way we're getting out of here without blowing our cover. We still have to meet up with the others and tell them what we've learned. And we can't do that from a jail cell." He growled.

"Which is why this is a stupid idea." Natasha seethed, though she knew it was useless to argue. Unless she had concrete evidence that there was another effective way around this, there was to be no stopping him. Steve was dangerously stubborn at times. Almost as much as he was reckless. She knew that almost as well as anyone could.

He moved closer to the street, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll meet you two in ten minutes."

She glared back at him, folding her arms over her chest. "Not if they catch you." She muttered.

Steve rested his hand on the cold wall once again as he stared out at the crowd. "They won't." He murmured before moving out of the alleyway. Natasha walked him with narrowed eyes before letting out an annoyed huff. He was right. They wouldn't.

It didn't take long for the cops to whip their attention to the suspicious hooded figure, especially when he threw a trashcan through a department store window. Unbeknownst to the cops, Natasha was rolling her eyes as she leaned up against the back alley wall, muttering something about an over-dramatic idiot under her breath.

Well...I got their attention. Steve muttered to himself as he quickly began to push and shove past pedestrians as he ran. He could hear the sound of shouts behind him as well as the distant sound of sirens slowly approaching. Stealing a single glance over his shoulder, he was just barely able to make out a single head of red hair swishing around the crowd, quickly making its way towards the subway.

Giving a satisfied nod, he turned back around and hissed in frustration at the approaching intersection. Thankfully, the light turned red just as he approached, his arms slamming down onto the hood of one of the cars as he slid himself overtop it.

Rolling along the ground as he dodged past the others, he quickly jumped back up to his feet and continued on. The shouts behind him continued to grow both in size and number as he ran, his eyes sliding back to catch a glimpse.

Shaking his head, he narrowed his eyes and began to pump more into his legs, realizing he could easily outrun the officers without even breaking a sweat. Still, he had to keep them distracted long enough for Natasha to escape, meaning he had to keep them on his tail for as long as he possibly could.

He was thrown from his thoughts as two police cruisers shot forward from the street, blocking his path along the oncoming intersection. Cursing under his breath, the man noticed the break in the building walls just a little farther up ahead. Running towards the cars, the officers shouted at him as he hid his face and squeezed through, entering the long alleyway.

He grunted as he jumped over the rotting piles of wooden boxes, officers rounding the corner as they began to fill the alleyway behind him. Eyes catching the tall chain-link fence on the other side of the path, Steve thew another small glance behind him before leaping up, fingers wrapping around the cold metal as he began to pull himself up. Flipping over the top, he landed with a grunt on the other side, fingers still latched around the metal as he stared out at the other side, the officers quickly approaching.

Blinking in realization, he turned his head away before they could get any closer, turning back around as the officers reached the fence. "Stop right there or we will open fire!" One voice rang out clearer among the others.

Steve couldn't help but growl in frustration before staring back down at the path. At the fence, the dirt path sloped downward to a lower level of the street, which was much less crowded than the main street.

Leaping away from the fence, Steve felt his feet slide against the mud as he sloped down the path. He winced as gunshots began to fill his ears, instinctively curling himself in tighter as he tried to make himself seem as small as possible.

Another cruiser pulled up along the street where he'd turned up, two more officers stepping out, their guns raised. "Put your hands in the air! Do it!" One of them yelled before Steve rushed past them, leaping over their car as he rolled along the ground right as the bullets shot past.

After another second, his legs were pumping once again, the wind whipping past him as he ran, stinging his face and making his eyes water at the sharp slap. Rounding the corner, his eyes made out the noticeable shape of the nearby fruit stand sitting near the street. Pushing forward, he reached his hand out and slammed his arm down against the wooden posts of the stand, fruit and wooden splinters flying behind him.

He winced internally at the action, having become acutely aware of just how much damage he and his teammates actually caused in their endeavors, an action that didn't not stem from the entire Accords mess. Still, couldn't say he didn't have good reason. In fact, Steve was beginning to suspect this had gone on for long enough.

Eyes scanning for another route, the man noticed another break in the buildings across the street, similar the alleyway he'd just popped out of. Only this one had a fire escape leading up to the rooftops.

Narrowing his eyes, the man pushed off and began to make for the building, realizing Natasha had to have made it underground by now. The officers were still in hot pursuit from what he could hear, but it didn't matter much anymore. Gunshots continued to ring out around him as he tried to run in a haphazard manner, ducking and dodging with no real set pattern as his movements became more and more sporadic.

Finally, he reached the other side of the street, his breath billowing out around him as he eyed the fire railing. The shouts were growing louder now. The cops from before must have finally found a way around the fence.

Gritting his teeth Steve jumped up and wrapped his fingers around the rusted railing of the fire escape. The metal creaked and groaned underneath his weight, but he was able to pull himself up fairly quickly.

He hissed as a bullet grazed his leg, but continued on nevertheless. Pieces of brick flew out from the wall where the bullets were beginning to hit it, but he kept climbing until his hand wrapped around the very top ledge of the building. Flipping himself over, he brushed his fingers against the ground before leaping back up, running along the rooftop before coming to the ledge once again.

He didn't even pause before he was launching himself from the rooftop, soaring in the air for just a second before he was rolling along the roof of the next building over. He continued to leap from one building to the next for what seemed like forever until the sound of gunshots no longer met his ears and the sirens were nothing but a distant cry.

Landing on one final rooftop, the man rolled along the ground once again, the gravel sticking to his arms and legs as he crouched there, small pants escaping his lips as the cold air gripped his lungs tightly. He took a small breath as he slowly rose back up to his feet, chest heaving slightly.

The wind blew past him, sharply blowing his hoodie off of his head as his hair whipped along his face. He stared out over the city, the sun steadily rising in the sky despite the numerous dark clouds slowly rolling in.

Despite the small nag in his head refuting the idea, Steve couldn't help but reach his gaze farther, making out the distant sight of flashing red and blue lights as well as the numerous officers still milling around the streets.

He stared at the sight for a moment longer before he let out a deep, pained sigh. Turning away, Steve slowly lowered himself down to the ground, resting his forearms on his knees as he plopped down, leaning the back of his head against the ledge as he closed his eyes, a deep pang of disappointment settling in his chest that seemed to cause much more damage than any bullet fired at him.

Bullets that were fired by the good guys. For despite the fact that they hadn't seen his face, it was impossible to forget that he - Captain America - Golden Boy of the United States - National Hero in the eyes of millions - was now a criminal.

 

---

 

Thursday - March 31, 2016

Location Unknown

10:03 a.m.

The sharp crimson glow coming from her eyes cast long shadows along the concrete floor of the warehouse as Wanda opened her eyes, her body settling back down onto the dirty surface from where it had once been hovering.

She let out a small breath as she stole a small glance towards the main entrance door of the warehouse. From where she was sitting in the far left corner of the structure, she could make out the steel door from across the room had yet to be opened.

She turned away, having been expecting as much. After all, their mission was not to be a short one. Stakeouts could be long and tedious, so there was truly no telling when they would be back.

Still, she couldn't help but peek over at the door from time to time in between her meditations, despite the constant flare of annoyance that spiked within her every time. Stop being so ridiculous.She scolded herself as she shook her head and closed her eyes once more. They'll be fine. They're professionals. She thought, trying to resist the small pang of hurt that sparked at that thought, realizing it was probably the reason they hadn't brought her or Scott along.

With a final growl of frustration, the young woman tightly squeezed her eyes closed as she took another deep breath. She had to refocus. Now that she wasn't fighting or going on missions as constantly as she had been before as an official Avenger, she'd had less and less reason to use her magic.

Without a proper discharge, the energy was starting to build up inside her, something she knew could be extremely dangerous if not treated properly. Meditation seemed to help.

Of course, if she could only focus long enough to actually do it...

Slowly calming her nerves, the girl released the tension in her eyes and her muscles as she inhaled deeply, feeling the cold air seep into her lungs as she flexed her fingers once again. Crossing her legs, she focused on feeling each and every breath she took, noting how her chest expanded before falling loose once more.

Gently, she began to twirl her fingers around in the air, the familiar burn of her magic culminating in her chest. Slowly, small wisps of red trails began to rise up from her fingertips, seeping through her skin and pooling around her chest.

Her hair began to flare out slightly, blowing around her shoulders as her body began to levitate off of the ground, the wisps of red swirling around her gently in a whirlwind of crimson energy. She could feel it in her heart. In her fingers, her skin, her eyes. The comforting warmth of her magic flowing through her body. The gripping sensation of her nerves pulsing loudly as every cell in her body seemed to glow with fire. Her eyes burned underneath her eyelids, the skin glowing a faint red through the skin.

Instantly, all the tension she'd been feeling before seemed to evaporate as she was enveloped in the comforting touch, her magic seeming to wash away the frustrations, the anger, the pain.

She let out a small breath as her body relaxed, fingers flying effortlessly as her hair gently billowed out around her. For a single moment, for the first time since everything had turned rotten, Wanda felt at peace.

Until Scott started humming.

Closed eyes twitching slightly, she tried to concentrate on the swirling tendrils of magic, only for his humming to rise an octave. With a small growl of frustration, she opened her eyes and dropped back to the ground, glaring over into the corner, where Scott currently lay sprawled out on his dusty mattress, one leg propped up on his knee, arms folded underneath his head as he hummed.

She let out an exasperated sigh as she placed one elbow on her knee and propped her cheek up with her fist. "Do you have to do that so loudly?" She muttered with a cocked brow.

Scott pushed himself up onto his elbows and threw her a look. "Well what do you expect me to do?" He tossed one arm out dismissively. "I feel like I'm going crazy over here!"

Wanda shook her head. "Why don't you try meditating?" She asked as she turned away and closed her eyes, concentrating back on her magic once again.

"Is that what you were doing? I thought you just took sleepwalking to the extreme or something."

The girl let out a loud sigh as she dropped her head, her chin nearly hitting her chest. The thought of tying up and gagging the man with her magic had just entered her mind when the soft sound of engines reached her ears, her head shooting back up. She met Scott's gaze. They'd both heard it. And the noise was steadily growing louder.

"Someone's coming." She voiced what they both were thinking, the words barely having left her mouth before the two of them were on their feet and moving towards hte center of the warehouse. Along the center spine of the structure stood five large cement pillars that were nearly as big around as small cars, the space between them about as far apart as three of said cars.

Quickly rushing to stand behind the large structures, both Wanda and Scott shared confused glances. The others weren't due to be back for at least another couple of hours. SO who else could have possibly found them?

Wanda was already pooling crimson magic into the palms of her hand when the main door to the warehouse opened up with an ear-piercing shriek, the steel door swinging hard into the wall with a BANG!

The two winced at the noise, but instantly relaxed once they saw who it was coming in through the door. Of course, the looks on their teammates faces made a small twinge of unease course through their guts, so that was a slight negative.

"You're back? Already?" Scott asked, cocking his head as he and Wanda stepped out from their hiding places. Cling brushed past them as he shrugged his jacket off and practically threw it onto the metal racks bolted to the wall. "We kinda didn't have much of a choice." He growled.

THe two confused parties turned to Natasha as she moved closer. "The cops showed up." She sighed, moving to the rack as well to remove her jacket. Scott's eyes widened. "You serious?" He gaped.

"Dozens of them." Sam muttered, removing the metal pack from his back. "Apparently, they're doing patrols along the major city streets trying to flush us out."

Wanda stepped forward, eyes hard. "They didn't see you, did they?"

Natasha gave a small scoff. "No. Captain Moron over here took care of that." She motioned her head towards Steve, who brushed past her to remove his own jacket. "We're here, aren't we?" He muttered, throwing her an annoyed look, to which she responded with a roll of her eyes.

Wanda watched the silent exchange between the two and chalked it up to a spat that had occurred during their mission as she folded her arms over her chest. "I thought we send Sam out just so this didn't happen."

Steve shook his head. "Well, apparently that didn't work all too well for us." He sighed.

Scott glanced back at the others before taking a step forward. "So, do they really think we're still in the city?" He asked, glancing around. "Or do they think we've already moved on and are just looking for any clues as to where we might have gone?"

Several glances were exchanged before all eyes landed on Steve. The man stared back at them for a moment before shaking his head and lowering his gaze. "I don't know."

Natasha pursed her lips as she moved past the group. Near the back wall, they'd pushed up an old, abandoned wooden table they'd found out back against the side wall, a few rusted chairs leaning up against it.

Taking out her gun, the woman placed the weapon on the table as she took a seat in one of the chairs, pulling a small rag from her pocket as she began to wipe the cloth over the metal of the pistol. "Well, that's gonna determine just how far we can push our missions now." She explained, glancing back towards the others as they all moved to stand around the table as well. "If we have every cop in the city looking for us, then you can pretty much erase any and all plans of us stepping two feet from this place unless we want the entire police force up out asses." She muttered.

Scott let out a humorless scoff. "Well, that's just great. That's...that's fantastic."

Steve raised a hand and rubbed his fingers against his eyes as Wanda spoke up once again. "Did you at least find anything out? Anything we can use?" She urged.

"We think we might have gotten their main base of operations for now." Sam explained. "They mentioned something about Mackview. I'm assuming that's the name of the city area it's in, but I've never heard of it before." He sighed, glancing over at Steve, who shook his head as well, signifying he didn't know either.

"I'm guessing it's a warehouse of sorts. Kind of like this one." The super soldier interjected. "It'll have to be big if it's their main base."

Scott lifted his head back up. "Well, did you find out if they really are working with that...Hydra-thing?"

Steve gave him a strange look at the name as Clint responded for him. "Nope. The cops made sure of that." The archer muttered back with a sharp look in his eyes. A look that had been growing ever-more persistent with each day that passed.

"What do you mean?" Wanda asked as Steve slowly moved over towards Natasha and took a seat next to her, propping his elbow up on the table as he let out a deep sigh, running a hand down his face. "They were talking about some sort of deal. A big one." He started.

"The buyers are apparently a group of shady characters that might be what we're looking for." He leaned back in the chair, folding his arms over his chest. "I mean, this kind of stuff would be right up their ally. Ever since SHIELD fell, most of the HYDRA sleeper agents had to go undercover just to remain in hiding, so they'll more likely than not, jump at the opportunity to score some mass weapons like these."

He grimaced slightly. "Of course, we had to leave before we could actually get any more out of them."

"So we're pretty much back to square one." Sam chided as he moved over towards the back wall and slid down to the floor, not bothering in reaching for a chair as he simply sat down on the ground resting his back against the cold concrete wall.

Scott glanced around at the others, taking in their faces holding looks ranging from worry to disgust to frustration. He quirked a brow as he tentatively raised his hand. Clint eyes him strangely as he tossed his hand in the air. "Why are you always raising your hand, man? Just speak!"

He blinked at the response before lowering his hand. "Right, right...um...I- sorry, but I was just...like, can you tell me again what's so special about these guns?" He asked, tilting his head as he awkwardly folded his arms behind his back as to avoid raising them once again.

Natasha glanced over at him. "You remember that alien invasion in New York back in 2012?" She asked, Scott instantly nodding his head. "Yeah! That shit was crazy! For the longest time, we all thought it was some sort of practical joke or publicity stunt until every news station in the frikkin universe started reporting on it." He scoffed.

"Yeah well, these weapons are made from the same shit as that alien tech." Clint muttered as Natasha piped up once again. "Meaning if handled correctly, it could slice through steel like warm butter and blow up three city blocks. And that's just for starters." She growled.

Scott blinked at them for a moment before giving a small nod, smacking his lips together awkwardly. "Mkay. So...weapons bad. No weapons. Got it." He gave a small thumbs up, most of the others rolling their eyes as they turned back towards Steve.

"So what do we do now? If everybody's on watch like you said, then it's gonna be a while until you can get any information about these guys again." Wanda stated, placing her hands on her hips as she gave the man an inquisitive look.

Before he could respond, however, Clint was standing back up, placing his palms down on the surface of the table. "I'll tell you what we do." He narrowed his eyes. "We say here and remain low until this all blows over."

The others glanced over at Clint, eyes wide in shock at the man's claim. Steve shook his head, eyes hard. "That's not an option." He exclaimed, his tone rough.

Clint turned to him. "Cap, come on!" He exclaimed, leaning closer. "It's suicide to go out there now and you know it!" He snapped, jabbing a finger in the man's direction.

The soldier didn't back down. "We can't just stop now. Not when we know what we do. Now when we can do something." He replied, fingers twitching slightly at his sides.

Scott shook his head. "Yeah, nuh-uh. That's a terrible idea." He interjected, eyes wide.

"So that's your plan? You're just going to hide here like cowards?" Wanda hissed, eyes narrowed as she curled her lips, not understanding in the slightest why they seemed so adamant in staying hidden and away from danger.

Clint stared at her for a second, eyes hard as he opened his mouth to say something, only for Scott to beat him to it. The usually-chipper man was now excreting an aura of anger as he glared down at the girl. "No. We're hiding like guys with something to lose." He muttered, tone dark and grim. "And I'm not going to jeopardize any more by going out there and trying to catch some common thugs that may or may not have had a few dealings with some ex-HYDRO agents."

"HYDRA." Sam corrected.

"Whatever. I have way too much to lose." The man sighed, folding his arms as he turned away, eyes glaring hard at the concrete floor below.

Steve hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the man's sudden shift in behavior. In the short amount of time he'd known him, Steve had never seen Scott react in such a way. Though, of course, he knew the exact reason why he had. Wanda had struck a nerve. A pretty sensitive one by the looks of it.

"Look, I know this is risky." Sam cut in, stepping forward. "And if it were anything else, I would be right there with you guys, Clint." He started. "But coming from someone who's experienced what these guys can do firsthand, I have to agree with Cap." He sighed. "We can't take that chance. Not with HYDRA."

"So why do we have to do this then?" The archer asked, eyes narrowed as his fingers curled slightly. "Why is that our responsibility?"

Steve raised his head, eyes hard. "Cause it's our job." He stressed, slightly surprised at the words coming out of the man's mouth. "Whether people want us to do it or not, it's our duty as heroes. This is what we signed up for."

Wanda shook her head, hands shaking. "No. I didn't sign up to be chased like a rat by the very people we are trying to protect." She snapped. "I didn't sign up to be treated like a criminal when we haven't even done anything wrong."

"There's plenty of people out there who would disagree with that." Natasha muttered, staring at the girl with an unimpressed look.

"So then why don't we just leave this to the assholes who put us in this situation in the first place?" Clint growled. "Why don't we let them take care of it?"

Steve stood up from his seat by the table. "How could they possibly know about this?" He asked. "The only way they could find out is if one of us let them know." He explained as Natasha tilted her head, jutting in. "And I don't think any of them would be too keen on listening to the word of a couple of criminals."

"We aren't criminals!" Wanda glared, Clint seething right next to her.

Natasha stood her ground. "We are to them." She scoffed, glancing over towards the exit.

Before anyone else could shout in a few more arguments, Scott was raising up his hand again, quickly putting it down when Clint glared at him. "I don't know about that." He added anyways. "If any of you ever bothered to get on social media, you'd see for yourselves." He scoffed with a roll of his eyes, continuing when the others gestured impatiently for him to go on. "There's tons of people on Twitter who side with us, and I'm sure there's plenty more on Facebook and Instagram and all those other sites, too."

Sam couldn't help but snort as he waved his hand. "Oh, that's great! That's just what we need. An army of teenage, geeky, hormonal fans backing us up." He rolled his eyes. "We're a force to be reckoned with now!"

Steve narrowed his eyes. "Enough." He growled, the grumbling scattering around the room instantly silencing at the word. "I know this is dangerous, especially for you two." He glanced over at Clint and Scott, the former folding his arms and looking away while the latter glanced down at his feet, a regrettable look marring his face.

"But that's the job." He continued. "If we sat back and did nothing, when we knew what was happening, when we had the chance to stop it, then that really does make us the bad guys." He murmured.

Clint stared at him incredulously. "Us? Seriously? No, no, no. We are not the bad guys here. We were never the bad guys!" He shouted.

Sam shook his head. "Then how come we're the ones who've gotta hide?" He muttered, glaring down at the floor.

"Cause we're the ones that lost." Natasha sighed. "I know it isn't fair I know it isn't right. And I know you're all angry." She looked around the room at all of them, the tensions mounting with each new person that threw out their opinion. "But at the end of the day, that's what this all boils down to. We're the ones that came out on the bottom. So this is the consequence we have to deal with." She explained, leaving out the part where she believed they kinda deserved it, realizing it would probably just make things worse.

Clint leveled her a cool stare for a moment, silence ringing out around the warehouse before he spoke again, his voice low. "Even realizing that, you still wanna try and get through to Stark."

The atmosphere instantly froze over as tensions rose to insurmountable heights at the mention of the man's name. Steve glared back at the archer. "Clint, don't start." He warned, tone low and dangerous.

"No, seriously!" The man continued, realizing he'd struck a nerve and digging in deeper. "I'm sure you didn't tell him about this little mission of ours, huh, Nat?" HE asked, the mocking tone of his voice making Natasha curl her fists, grateful her gun was now sitting on the table surface, slightly out of her reach.

"Doesn't surprise me." Wanda muttered, eyes glowing a pale crimson as she spoke. "Stark doesn't care about anything other than himself." She spat out the name like it physically burned her to speak it. "He probably thinks this is beneath him, which is most likely why he isn't even doing anything." He growled.

Steve took a step closer, fists clenched. "This isn't about Stark."

"It's all about Stark!" Clint snapped. "Cause this all leads back to him! If he hadn't sided with those government asshats, if he'd actually gone along with his, oh I don't know - teammates, then we wouldn't even be in this mess now!" He shouted back.

"Enough, you guys." Nat tried to start.

Wanda glared at them. "Why should he get to be the one who comes out on top?" She snarled. "You said it yourself," She glanced over at Steve. "We all made mistakes here, so why is it that he still gets to show his face without getting shot at?!"

"You-"

"Because that's how it always it." She continued, deciding to answer the question herself. "No matter what. All he has to do is wave around a few dollars, flash a couple grins and whatever consequences he might have faced are mysteriously washed away." She growled, glancing over at Sam, the man having said nothing yet. He stared up at her, switching his gaze towards Steve and Nat before his eyes fell back to the floor, a deep sigh falling from his lips. "She's got a point." He muttered, Scott giving a small nod from his position near the wall.

"Exactly!" She shouted. "It's happened before and it'll keep happening. Cause that's what people like Stark do. Whatever they want to whoever they want to do it to!" She snarled, the sharp red tint of her eyes growing more and more piercing.

Steve stepped forward. "Stop trying t-"

"No way, Cap!" Clint growled. "Don't try and tell me we're the ones at fault here. Cause at the end of the say, this is Stark's doing. He's the one who did this to us."

"I know!"

Five heads whipped around to stare at Steve, his voice still ringing around the room as he glared at them. "I know that! I know what he did. I know it was wrong. I know the Accords were just as dangerous then as they are now." He growled. "But we also did this to ourselves. You can't possibly think, Clint, that when you willingly joined us to fight against the Accords that there wouldn't be any repercussions. I warned you before you joined up." He snapped, glaring at the archer. "You're the one that came along. Nobody forced you. Not even Stark."

"Oh, give me a fucking break!" Clint snapped.

"No you know what-"

Instantly, the room was swept up in a frenzy of angry shouts and furious words as the group tangled themselves up in a whirlwind of arguing, the room filling with the sound of everyone's voices as they struggled to be heard over the others, battling for dominance.

The only person who seemed to be incredibly unsure of himself t the moment was Scott, who was staring at the frenzy with wide eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. He winced inwardly at some of the comments he could hear as he lifted a finger and opened his mouth, trying for a moment to get a word in, only to sigh and curl the finger downwards when he realized there was no point.

He turned away just as the back door to the warehouse creaked, his body going rigid as the door slowly cracked open. His eyes stayed locked onto the sight as he turned his body slightly. "Uh...guys?" He called, voice shaking slightly. Judging from the continuing whirlwind that was going on behind him, he was pretty sure the warning had gone right over their heads.

"Guys?"

The door was now fully open now, the new figure standing in the open doorway as the sunlight spilling inside from the new opening shrouding the figure in darkness as the flooding lights cast their long shadow along the warehouse floor. Scott stared for a moment longer, the shouted finally making his hands curl.

"GUYS!"

"What?!" Clint shouted as he whirled around, the shouting instantly dying down as they all turned and caught sight of the figure. However, before any of them could truly react, the new person was already talking.

"Jesus Christ. No wonder Fury's getting more and more in-touch with his name nowadays." The woman muttered as she walked inside, a large silver briefcase hanging from her hand. Moving away from the door, the lighting adjusted against her skin so that they could now see just who they were dealing with. She had light pale skin and dark brown hair that was tired back into a ponytail, one hand casually stuffed into her jacket pocket.

"You all really are acting like idiots." Hill grunted as she walked over.

Steve let out a small sigh as he saw her. "Sorry. You...kinda caught us at a bad time." He moaned as a few tense looks were shared around the table. Maria caught all of them as she raised a brow. "Really? You know, I didn't really get that. The screaming and shouting were so subtle." She scoffed as she set the case down onto the table before turning back to the others.

"Extra food and clothes are in the trunk, as usual." She explained, Steve nodding as he glanced over at Sam and Clint. Sam gave a nod of his own as they moved to go and get the new supplies from the car, the archer lingering for a moment as he leveled Steve a hard stare before letting out a soft growl and stalking out.

The soldier let out a soft sigh as he lowered his gaze before focusing it on the two remaining Avengers. "You think you can give us a second?" He asked, staring back at their most recent additions.

Wanda and Scott shared small looks with each other before letting out frustrated sighs of their own, leaving the table to stalk off to their respective corners of the warehouse. Maria watched them leave, making sure they were out of earshot before she turned back towards Steve and Natasha.

"What the hell was that all about?"

Steve hesitated for a moment, casting Natasha a small glance, to which the assassin merely raised a brow. He shook his head. "Nothing you need to worry about." He finally settled on as he moved over towards the table, sitting down once again.

"Just the usual bullshit that you morons are always bickering about nowadays." Maria corrected him as she moved to sit as well, Natasha grabbing a chair on her other side as the woman leaned closer. "And by the way, you're kinda making me worry about it. Which, I'd like to add, is a major inconvenience." She muttered, straightening back up as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Do you know how hard it is to convince Nick that I'm actually on mission right now?" SHe asked, not bothering for an answer. "That man is more paranoid than you guys." She scoffed.

Natasha cast the woman a look. "So he still doesn't know you're helping us?"

Hill let out a soft snort. "God, no. Do you know what he'd do if he found out? He'd make me bring him along the next time we meet just so he could beat some sense into you." She threw the pair a small glare. "And quite frankly, I'm a little tempted to let him", she added.

Steve glanced away, an exasperated look marring his face. "Maria, look w-"

"Don't bother, Steve." She cut him off as she lifted a hand, the other currently resting against her hip. "I don't want to hear your excuses." She muttered. "Why do you think I'm staying away from Stark Tower? If I wanted to get involved in your little hissy fit, that's the first place I would have gone."

Natasha lifted a brow. "You say that...yet here you are." She smirked

The other woman twitched her lips."Yeah, cause stupid or not..." She trailed off for a moment before continuing. "...I still don't want to see you all locked up." The small look of concern was quickly replaced with another annoyed look as she spoke again. "You just make it so goddamn hard, though! I mean, sending Sam out as a red herring? Come on! Seriously?!" She snapped, tossing her hands out before slapping them down on the sides of her legs.

Steve grimaced at that. "Alright, not our best move..." HE moved closer. "But we're still grateful to you. For everything you're doing for us." He added, eyes conveying a look of sincerity Hill was pretty sure nobody could truly mimic. Not even the best con. And she would know, for she really did know the best con.

The woman looked away, giving a small nod as she folded her arms over her chest once again. "I brought what you asked for. Along with the usual stuff." She said right as Sam and Clint returned through the main doors, lugging in arm-fulls of boxes.

As they moved closer and dropped the boxes on the floor near the table, they noticed an assortment of rolled up papers sitting atop of of the large containers. Reaching over, Hill plucked up the paper roll and dropped it onto the table, unfurling it along the surface.

The two recent presences moved closer to the table as Sam cocked a brow questioningly.

"A map?" He asked, glancing up at the others. "What the hell do we need a map for?" He asked. After all, Steve had grown up here. Sure that had been around seventy years ago, but he was still pretty sure the man at least knew most of the basic in's and out's they needed to be familiar with.

As if he knew the question was directed at him, Steve stared down at the map as he spoke. "Well, we might not have gotten their buyers, but we did manage to figure out where their main export center is." He explained before pointing down at a specific spot on the map. "Mackview. I knew that name sounded familiar. I just didn't remember from where." He straightened himself back up and crossed his arms. "Mackview Shipping and Storage Center. It's right by the docks." He stated.

Natasha continued for him. "We'll have to wait till nightfall, then we can suit up and take this place down." He explained. At the skeptical looks that were created from the statement, the super soldier took the lead again. "I know this isn't much, but they said it was their main center of production. So if we can take this place down, we can at least slow them down for a little while." He reasoned.

Clint shook his head, but said nothing as he looked away. His unspoken words still hung in the air, however. Steve narrowed his eyes, but took a calming breathe and moved closer, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Listen, Clint. I know how you feel about this. I know how much you're putting on the line here." The archer didn't look up. "But I promise you that I will try my hardest to make sure this team stays safe. I will not let you all get locked back up in that prison." He stated, his words strong and clear.

The surety of his voice, however, seemed to have little effect on Clint as he turned to give the man a cold stare. "There won't be much you can do about it when you're locked up right alongside us." He muttered softly before pulling away, striding past the table and its occupants and he stalked off.

Steve watched him go, a small sigh of despair sliding past his lips. He knew Clint would stay by their side, no matter what. They'd come this far. He wasn't going to just back out anytime soon. He'd proven that time and time already. Still...Steve wasn't blind to the fact of just how much resentment, frustration and sadness the archer was holding in himself. Feeling that all came down to Steve and his past actions. His past mistakes.

He didn't even bother turning his head as he spoke once more. "Did you check on Laura?"

Maria nodded. "Just like you asked."

"And?"

Both Natasha and Sam also looked towards her as the woman sighed. "She misses him. They all do." She revealed the obvious statement before continuing. "But...they're doing alright. Laura's a strong girl. She can handle herself." She reassured them.

Steve shook his head all the same. "She shouldn't have to."

Natasha glance back at her. "And Scott's?" She asked, remembering the other family man on their team.

"They're fine, too." Hill explained. "His daughter misses him, though. SHe's a cute kid. Nice girl." She smiled, before the calm look evaporated from her face. She turned back towards the super soldier. "Steve, you have got to fix this." SHe stressed. "I don't care what you have to do. You have got to meet with Tony. You two have to work this out." She growled, stalking closer.

"I didn't fill you in on the suspected HYDRA coup just because it's...well you. I did it so you'd come back to the city. Cause this isn't going to go away if you just ignore it, no matter what Stark seems to want to think." SHe muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"Cause it's not just this team who's suffering. The national crime rate has spiked since the Avengers disbanded. Terrorist sightings and attacks are becoming more frequent and the number of enhanced individuals stirring up trouble is beginning to become a problem." She breathed. "I mean, Rhodey's the closest thing to a defense line the government's got nowadays. The people still trust him, so that's about all they can use. And SHIELD..." She paused.

"Well...let's just say we're still trying to find out bearings since..."

Cap held up a hand. "Yeah...I know." He muttered.

Hill raised him her hands to tighten the hold on her ponytail. "That's the only way I was able to leak those files on he dealings to you guys. I mean, SHIELD's so busy nowadays trying to deal with the boost in enhanced people as well as actually try and stand back up on our feet after the shitstorm a few years ago to some things are bound to slip through the cracks. Especially when they're given a little push." She scoffed.

Steve gave a small nod. "Well, even rebuilding SHIELD from the ground up seems easier than this." He sighed. "It's...complicated."

"Well, un-complicate it." Hill growled. "And fast. Cause the world's not gonna wait until you two kiss and make nice. And it sure isn't getting any better. Not without the Avengers."

The remaining three around the table all shared knowing glances. Of course, they'd already come to realize such a fact. But having someone actually say it out loud...it just made it all the more real to them.

Maria noticed the looks before letting out a sigh of her own, rubbing at the back of her neck as she shut her eyes. "I have to go. Nick's expecting me to report in in about two hours, and if my broadcasting signal isn't pinging from Miami like I told him it would, I'm gonna get a drone following me everywhere I go." She muttered.

With that, the woman silently made her way towards the door she'd originally come in from. Casting one last look over her shoulder as the disheveled gang that had once been the world's most formidable team, she let out another small breath before turning back around, pushing past the door as it slammed behind her, the sound echoing throughout the empty building.

Steve stared at the door for a moment before turning back towards the table, running a hand down his face as he groaned tiredly. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, the small glance he cast recognizing it as Natasha.

The assassin gave him a pat and a small smile. "You're lucky she hasn't kicked your ass yet." She scoffed with a smirk.

With that, Steve actually gave a surprising huff of amusement. "It's only a matter of time." He muttered. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose from the other side of the table. "Alright. So, you all wanna explain to me just what exactly we're gonna be doing tonight?"

"To all of us."

The three whipped around to find that Wanda and Scott had returned, the looks on their faces making it clear that they weren't leaving again. Behind them, Clint stood off to the side, looking resigned.

Steve stared down at the map of the city while Natasha lifted up the silver case Hill has dropped off, placing it down on the table. Flipping the latches, the opened the large case to reveal the numerous assortments of newly loaded weapons, arrows, guns and any other tech that could possible give them any semblance of a chance to survive.

The super soldier didn't look over at the weapons, and neither did the others. Their soul focus was on him. He stared down at the map, the names, the street ways. He narrowed his eyes as he replayed Sam's last question over in his head. What are we doing? He repeated to himself.

He could feel the stares of the others as they gazed at him. Looking at him for the answers. For direction. For instructions. He knew they didn't have to. They knew they didn't have to. But they'd followed him into this. And they'd be damned if they weren't going to follow him the rest of the way.

He let out a small breath as he raised himself back up, turning around to face the others.

"We do what we can."

 

---

 

Thursday - March 31, 2016

Location Unknown

06:02 p.m.

The sun was nothing but a frothing ball of warm tones and dulling rays as the sky melted into a warm swirling mix of deep purples, light pinks and bright yellows, a sight that was reflected perfectly in the shimmering waters of the bay.

The window he currently sat next to blew small guts of brisk spring air into his face. The creaking metal of the catwalk shifted and groaned with every twitch he made, but Steve didn't really care. His back sat pressed against the wall, the window allowing the cool air to filter in next to him, blowing his hair gently across his forehead, licking his skin in soft, calming strokes.

The warehouse ceiling above groaned softly as the building settled, the noise mingling into the background as Steve stared out at the view before him. Ever since their "banishment", each of his teammates had chosen a particular spot they'd frequent the most, and his just happened to be the metallic catwalk hanging above their heads. In all honesty, Steve was more surprised that Clint hadn't claimed this spot.

Lord knew that guy loved his fair share of heights. Or even more than his fair share.

At the thought of the man, Steve's face twitched in slight agitation as his mind jumped back the conversation that had taken place a few hours ago, when he'd gone over their plan.

Without any true information on the mysterious buyers, there was a pretty low chance they'd be able to locate their sale point at the time. So, they'd have to go with their next best option: hitting their main place of manufacturing.

Considering their activities were considered slightly "illegal" nowadays, the team would have to make their move after dark, when they were less likely to be spotted. It'd be a simple mission. Infiltrate. Incapacitate. Bolt. In and out. It would at least buy them some time to come up with another plan to catch up with their buyers as they tried to relocate their supplies and manufacturing point.

In hindsight, the mission seemed to be a simple one. Or...it would have been simple back in the day. At least, that was what his teammates continued to scream at him.

Clint and Scott were still adamant in keeping to the shadows, reluctant to put themselves out there once again considering their stakes in this. Sam was hesitant, but Steve knew the man would follow him into anything, so he at least knew the man had his back in this. Natasha, well...he was pretty sure she was on board. Then again, you could never be too sure with her. She wasn't one to wear her emotions out on her sleeve. And Wanda...Wanda was just angry. Angry at Stark, at their predicament, at them for hiding in the first place, for herself for being one of the reasons for said concealment. But as Steve had told her before, might as well put that anger to good use.

Steve wasn't stupid. He wasn't an idiot. He knew just how dangerous it was to be putting himself and the others out there considering how many people wanted to hang them out to dry. But...he couldn't just stand around and do nothing with the chance that HYDRA was still on the rise. SHIELD had done that, and look at where they were now.

He knew what they were capable of firsthand. He knew how dangerous they could be if they were left unchecked, if they were allowed to grow and fester in the shadows until it was too bad to handle and contain.

He wasn't going to let that happen again.

The man let out a sigh as he stole a glance away from the window and cast his gaze down at the ground below, where his teammates were either resting, training, or ambling restlessly to pass the time.

He just wished they could understand.

Staring down at the broken group below him, it was obvious that something was missing. Someone was missing. The same someone who could either lighten people's spirits, or drag them even further down by being such a deliberate asshole, and even then, he still managed to at least make someone smirk.

Despite the torrent of hate and repressed anger that most of his teammates were holding for him, it was obvious that Tony was a crucial piece their machine was sorely missing, something that was taking a toll on all of them, on the Avengers name itself.

The worst part about all of it was that he knew it was him. He was the reason this was all happening. Granted Tony wasn't exempt from blame, but Steve wasn't either. None of them were. Steve gave a small shake of his head as the regrettable actions morphed into even more regrettable thoughts.

He should have listened. He should have reasoned. He should...he should have stayed.

But he hadn't. They hadn't. And the Avengers were taking a hit for it. Because they couldn't just sit down at talk to each other. The super soldier closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the wall. It sounded simple enough. Sit and listen for once, from both sides, and maybe they'd have a chance of reviving everything they'd lost.

But Steve knew what would really happen.

They'd sit. They'd talk. The talking would turn to yelling. The yelling would turn to fighting. And the fighting would lead to an unfixable relationship rather than a broken one. IT was painful to think about, but it was true. When it came to the two men, Tony and Steve couldn't be more different other than the fact that their stubbornness was on an equal plane, which just made things worse.

So...maybe that was why Steve dreaded the thought of even getting close to Tony. Cause as long as they stayed away from each other, they'd couldn't make it any worse. They couldn't hurt each other any more than they already had.

THe super soldier gave a small shake of his head, fingers twitching by his sides. He couldn't think about this. Not right now. Not when there was a mission that took priority, though in all honesty, he would have taken anything to distract him from his previous thoughts.

Stealing one last glance down at his teammates, the man turned away and instead focused his gaze on the setting sun across the bay. He had a job to do. He had a duty to fufill. And nothing would stop him from completing it.

Not even Tony.

 

---

 

The bag caved slightly as his fist slammed into the rough, scratched leather surface. The chains hoisting it to the ceiling rattled loudly as it swung back slightly before diving toward him once more. Clint narrowed his eyes and drove his other fist in, tucking his arms close to his body as he repeated. Punch after punch; hit after hit. Sharp. Precise. Cut.

The sweat trickling down his temple made his skin crawl slightly, but wiping it away would have meant stopping, so he just gave a small shake of his head and kept going. He furrowed his brow, gritting his teeth as he punched harder.

His muscles tensed and snapped with each punch and lash, coiling tighter and tighter with each lunge. He could feel his knuckles beginning to peel, seeing as how he hadn't bothered in wrapping them before he'd started. He'd been too pissed off for that.

What the fuck were they thinking? No - scratch that - they weren't thinking! If they were, they never would have even agreed to go on this suicide mission.

They were basing their whole operation, staking their entire setup, on...on a hunch! They didn't even have all the facts and yet they were still gonna go and risk everything just because there was a chance that it could lead to something bigger.

He slammed his knuckles against the hard leather.

No, all they were doing was putting themselves in even more danger. Being even more reckless than they already were, which was saying a lot.

He knew how much this meant to Steve. He knew how much the man had lost to this group, and he knew just how much it pained him to see that they were still active and fighting after everything he'd tried to do to prevent it, to stop it from ever happening again. But he had to know that this wasn't going to do them any good! All it would do was endanger everything they were trying to accomplish. After all, it wasn't like they'd be able to do much to help from prison cells

Loud huffs fell from his lips as he pushed on, his chest heaving slightly at the added strain.

Like it or not, they were fugitives now. Criminals. The law was no longer on their side. Nobody was on their side. The constant FBI surveillance patrols and Special-Ops teams constantly searching for their trails was evidence of this. Things could not be more tense, more dangerous than they were not. Yet here they were, about to try once again to prove that they still had something to give!

The chains rattled loudly above his head, matching in time with each and every hit the bag took.

This wasn't their job. Not anymore. Not when the punishment for getting caught was a lifetime locked away in a floating metal prison. Not when there were other, more capable people who could actually do something about it. Not when there were people who deserved to trouble themselves with dangers like this. Not when it risked him never seeing his loved ones again.

With a loud, final snarl, Clint hurled his fist into the bag, the leather walls buckling as it swung backwards haphazardly, chains squeaking obnoxiously as it rattled off in protest. Letting out a tired huff, the man stepped away from the bag as it swung back towards him, watching it glide past him before continuing on its swinging path.

The man simply stood there for a moment, watching the bag sway back and forth as he breathed heavily, dragging in large gulps of air as he curled and uncurled his fists, feeling each and every individual tear in his knuckles rip even more with each twitch. Reaching a hand up, he wiped away the trails of sweat pooling around his forehead, wincing slightly as some of the liquid dripped onto his scratches.

Turning away, he paused as he caught sight of Scott leaning in the doorway, casually eating chips out of an obnoxiously bright blue bag. Catching sight of Clint now staring at him, the man gave a small wave, crumbs sprinkled around his face.

The archer let out a small huff and rolled his eyes as he moved over towards the side of the small, cement room. "What do you want?" He muttered gruffly as he reached the long wooden table sitting up against one of the back walls. Plucking the small white towel off of the surface, he wiped it over his face and down his neck.

Scott gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Nothing. But, this is the closest thing to TV we got around here so..." He shook the bag of chips before grabbing another handful.

Clint stared at him for a moment longer before blowing a sigh past his lips. "Whatever." He muttered as he reached up and unhooked the sandbag from the ceiling hook. The weight dropped to the floor with a loud bang, the archer walking around it to grab onto the thick chain attached to the front. he tried to ignore the stares of the other man as he dragged the weight over to the back of the room.

Unfortunately, the fact that he was ignoring the man did not seem to be obvious enough as Scott cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey...can...can I ask you something?" He asked, his tone of voice reflecting his uncomfortableness with the situation.

Clint suppressed the urge to drag a hand down his face as he cocked his head, throwing the man an annoyed look. "What?" He huffed, his aggravations still having not left his body, despite the recent beating he'd just unleashed.

Scott rubbed the back of his neck as he began to speak, glancing over towards the side of the room. "So I was thinking about the mission later tonight. I...I still have some major doubts about that, by the way. But, I was just thinking about all the things we've been doing recently and...and all the snooping and sneaking that's been going on, and..." He grimaced slightly. "And I was just wondering something that I've kinda never asked before. Do...do you think..." He trailed off for a moment before clearing his throat once again. "Do you think this is gonna blow over?" He finally asked.

Clint didn't turn to look at him as he moved back over towards the table, grabbing the towel once again. "I mean, don't get me wrong," Scott continued. "I know we kinda, like...majorly broke the law." He puffed out a small huff of amusement that didn't seem to hold any real humor. "But...I mean-" His expression shifted, morphing into a look of unsuredness and slight desperation. "-you guys are like...the Avengers. You gotta have some pull somewhere!" He gave a small shake of his head. "There's gotta be some way this can get fixed."

The archer's face twitched slightly as his furrowed eyebrows contorted even more. "That doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon." He uttered darkly, tone grim and cold.

Scott either didn't pick up on such a fact, or chose to ignore it. Clint was willing to bet on the former. "Well, we can't just be on the run forever. I mean, it's kinda not fair." Scott sighed, throwing his hands up in slightly frustration.

Clint's gaze remained locked on the table below him, his eyes hardening at the man's words. His fists clenched around the edge of the wooden surface, his knuckles beginning to whiten as he dug his nails into the old wood. The thick haze that had shrouded his mind whilst he'd unleashed his fury on the punching bag slowly began to creep back into the corners of his mind, growing sharper and darker with each word that spilled out of that idiot's mouth. At least he was right about something.

It. Wasn't. Fair.

Their newest recruit placed his hands on his hips. "Cause, I don't know about the rest of you, but I kinda miss...good food." He cracked a small smile. "Like, I haven't been to a Baskin Robbins in forever, man." He sighed with a grin. "You know, I could probably still get us a discount if I talk-"

Clint slammed his fist down against the table, the wood splintering slightly under the blow as the man whirled around, Scott's words dying in his mouth as he stared back, wide-eyed at the archer, who's eyes blazed.

"God, do you ever take anything seriously?" He snapped, glaring back at him.

Scott cocked a brow, face scrunching slightly at the sudden rage. "I'm just trying to-" He started, only for Cling to cut him off.

"-make a joke out of everything, like you always do." He growled, stalking closer. "Seriously, just do us all a favor and shut the hell up for once." He snarled, fists shaking at his sides.

Scott's face instantly darkened as he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell, man?" He snapped, not understanding why the man was exploding on him all of a sudden. "I know you're pissed, but you don't have to be an ass about it." He growled, suddenly feeling a lot less cheerful than he had been a moment ago.

"Pissed?" Clint echoed. "Ho, no. I'm way past pissed. I'm fucking furious. And you waltzing around, babbling like an idiot isn't helping!" He snarled, shutting his eyes as a pained look marred his features for a flash. "I should be home, with my family." The look vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared. "Instead, I'm here, staking everything on...on suicide missions, talking to some moron who shouldn't even be here!"

"You know, you're the ones that came to me." Scott snapped with a growl, fists clenching slightly. "This was your fight, and you dragged me into it! So obviously, I'm here for a reason."

Clint folded his arms over his chest. "We were desperate."

Scott let out a harsh scoff. "No, you're still desperate. And you're angry." He tossed his hands up into the air. "And instead of dealing with it like everyone else around here is, you're just holding it in and exploding on the first person you see like a major douchebag." He snapped, pointed an accusatory finger at the archer before him. There was no way he was letting this prick get away with talking to him like that.

However, before he could let anything else slip from his tongue, he quickly reigned himself up, sucking in a deep breath as he cut himself off from his next scathing remarks. Running a hand through his hair, the man let out a small sigh.

"Look...I get it. This...this sucks. Everything about this sucks. And...and I'll give it to you, I can be a bit of a handful." He let a small smirk fall onto his face for a brief moment. "But that's just how I cope."

Clint said nothing as he continued to glare down at the floor, silently seething in his own frustrations.

"I talk myself through it." The former burglar gave a small pause as he rubbed the back of his neck. "And then, I guess I just keep on talking, which I realize can get pretty annoying. But taking your frustrations out on your teammates isn't gonna help, man," he stressed.

"You staying angry isn't gonna help."

The archer, once more, said nothing. He merely stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, something Scott could admit he'd never seen the man do before. He couldn't decide whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Judging from the look Clint gave him when he finally lifted his head back up he was willing to bet on the latter.

"Yeah, I'm angry." Clint spoke, voice dark and tone cold. "I'm angry...and I'm frustrated...and I'm desperate. You wanna know why?" He spoke softly, but his tone held no shortage of venom as it seemed to drip from each hate-spewed word. He slowly stalked forward. Scott slowly stepped back.

"Because this whole thing - this...this whole feud, those suit-wearing assholes, that titanium fucker - is keeping me away from my family." He spat, eyes blazing.

Scott swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

"My wife has no idea where I am. My children don't know why their father isn't coming home. My baby son doesn't know why I'm not there holding him!" He roared, the pain in his voice rubbing his throat raw as his eyes stung slightly.

"I don't care that you think I'm an ass. I don't care that you don't appreciate my methods." He stepped forward until he was only a few paces away from the other man, eyes narrowing. "All I care about right now it them. They are my life."

He leaned back, allowing Scott to breath once more as the man continued to stare back at him, barely revealing any sort of emotional clues as to how the words were affecting him. But that didn't deter the archer from continuing.

"I know this must be hard for you to comprehend seeing as how you have the attention span of a squirrel." He muttered with a roll of his eyes. "This split took something from all of us, but it took everything from me." He clenched his fists once again. "So don't you try and lecture me about 'dealing and coping', alright? Because you have no idea what this feels like!" He snarled, face flaring red as his words slashed through the air.

For a moment, all was quiet. The only sound in the room was the last dying echoes of the archer's final cries. Scott said nothing. He simply stared the man straight in the eyes, face calm and body rigid.

Finally, the man slowly took a few paces forward, glancing down at the ground as he licked his lips. Clint raised a brow, but didn't move.

Faster than any of them could anticipate, Scott's hand was in the air, his fist slamming into Clint's jaw, sending the archer's head whipping to the side at the powerful impact.

Ignoring the harsh stinging in his jaw, Clint reached for his belt and wrapped his fingers around the knife stashed away there, poised to draw it out.

However, Scott made no more moves to attack, the tenseness in his body seeming to dissipate right alongside the punch. Instead, the man seemed much more...tired. Defeated.

Walking closer, Scott reached into his back pocket, making Clint tighten his grip on the knife, only to grunt as a small, square piece of paper was jammed against his chest.

The archer glanced down for a brief second before his eyes flashed up to meet Scott's, which were red around the rims and slightly glossy. But it was blatantly obvious the amount of rage and despair locked behind them. When he finally spoke, his voice was hard, nothing like the man that had begun the conversation.

"Her name is Cassie. And she's the life you all took away from me."

Without another word, Scott turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Clint to the cold, cramped surroundings, the man's last words echoing in his ears. For a moment, all he did was stare, the burning fire that had been crackling in his chest slowly dwindling. Sucking in a small breath, the man ran his fingers along the edges of the photo and glanced down.

It was obviously old, the crinkled edges and darkened smudges evidence enough of such a fact. But it didn't mar the subject of the actual photo, which was of a little girl, around eight-years-old. She had long brown hair that drooped down past her shoulders and a beaming smile that stretched from cheek to cheek, eyes crinkled in joy.

The bitter taste of the words that had spewn from his mouth seemed to taint his tongue. In his fury, it was as if his mind had released all of its restraints, throwing out whatever insult, threat or curse he'd been holding in for what felt like forever, no reasoning, no thought behind any of it.

The thought of his children growing without him there to see it, his baby son forgetting of his very existence, the idea that if anything were to happen, he wouldn't be there to protect them, it had all been too much. And the fire crackling in his heart, the burning rage that had masked and hidden such fears had boiled over, crashing into the other man without even a moment's notice.

But now that such fury was gone...the full force of his words was hitting him blow after blow.

The man stared down at the photo, gently smoothing out the wrinkles in silence. 'You have no idea what this feels like!'

It couldn't be farther from the truth.

Letting out a long sigh, Clint ran a hand down his face and folded the picture up once again. He cast the punching bag behind him one last glance before stepping out of the room.

It didn't take long to find Scott, for he was where he always was. In the back corner of the warehouse, distant from all the others, the man had set up an old, beat-up mattress along the back wall, a single shattered window resting on the wall adjacent to it, the dwindling sunlight streaming in softly. He sat atop the mattress, back pressed up against the wall as his wrists rested atop his propped-up knees, face resigned and sullen.

The archer hesitated for a moment, something he'd assumed had been trained out of him years ago. Hesitation meant missing your window. It meant missing your target. It meant failing your mission. Yet despite the mantra rolling through his brain, he still felt himself hold back for a second. HE shifted his jaw, wincing slightly at the sharp pang that shot through it.

Steeling himself, the man moved forward.

Scott made no indication of noticing him as he approached. He didn't even look at him as Clint leaned down and sat on the mattress next to him. For a moment, the two men said nothing. They merely stared up at the shattered window above, the distant sound of water and screeching birds echoing around them.

Clint let out a small sigh as he ran a finger over the folded picture one last time before handing it to Scott. The man glanced down at it before gently reaching up grasping it softly before unfolding it, staring down at it himself. He still said nothing.

Clint watched him for a moment before letting his head rest against the cold concrete behind them. "She has your smile."

Scott blinked for a moment before letting out a small scoff. "Yeah, with the snark to go with it." He chuckled softly, fingers delicately tracing the edges of the picture.

"How old is she now?"

The man gave a small huff as a smile graced his lips, eyes misting slightly. "She just turned nine." His face grew pained, the smile forced. "It was the first full birthday I'd gotten to spent with her in the last three years." He murmured softly.

Clint shut his eyes tightly, massaging the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. "Listen, Scott. What I said back there...I... I didn't mean all that shit. I was just-"

Scott waved him off before he could finish. "Hey, don't worry about it." The man said softly. "I get it. Contrary to what you might believe, I do know what you're going through." The man gave a small smile. "You actually kinda remind me of Cassie. When she was five, the cable box blew and we had no TV for about a week." The man let out a loud laugh. "Man, she was crawling the walls. I was actually surprised so much anger could fit inside that tiny little body."

Clint didn't share in the man's cheer. In fact, he stared back at him with an unreadable expression before he shut his eyes once again. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Scott echoed, raising a brow.

Clint's eyes drifted back over to him. "How do you stay so...calm, so-so relaxed through all this?" He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath from his lips. "I...I've been on missions before. I've been away from my family before. Weeks, months at a time I'd be gone. And...and I could handle it because...because I knew I'd see them again." The archer blinked and stared down at the floor, eyes hard. "Despite whatever horror, whatever asshole we were taking down that week, I knew I would see them." His fingers curled. "I would do whatever it took to see them. And...and I was fine."

"But this? I just...I have no idea what's gonna happen. The Accords...Stark...everything's...it...

"Everything's kinda shit right now." Scott finished.

Clint furrowed his brows. "To put it mildly." He muttered. "I don't know whether we'll have to stay on the run forever or if we'll be arrested eventually and sent back to the raft but...either way means I never see my family again. And I just... can't do that. I can't think about that without..." He stopped when his voice wavered slightly. He cleared his throat harshly before picking up once again. "So how are you so...alright?"

It felt strange saying what he'd been feeling out loud for the first time in...well, in a long time. What he'd said was true. He'd been on millions of missions. And sure, some were harder than others. Some were...some were really bad, and there were always times where you just had to talk about what you'd seen. Id didn't matter if you were the hardest, toughest person alive. If you could see some of the things that he had seen, holding it in would not seem to be an option.

Of course, Clint couldn't really describe himself as the most "open" person, especially when it came to personal stuff. Usually, he would go to Natasha for such matters. She was the person he trusted more than anyone on the team, maybe even one of the people he trusted most in his life, excluding his wife, of course.

And yet, for some reason, he just couldn't see himself talking to the woman about this. He knew he could trust her with it. Hell, Sott didn't even know his family. Natasha did. But...but despite how close they were, despite how well she knew his family, Natasha...couldn't understand. She could sympathize, but she couldn't feel what he was feeling. She couldn't know what he was thinking.

Scott did.

He was the only other person on the team who had the same gaping hole sitting in his stomach, pressing on his chest and gripping his lungs in a vice-grip. He was the only person who truly had something to lose that was more precious than their actual lives.

Scott understood.

But what made Clint feel worse was that he'd doubted Scott's feelings. He'd accused him of not understanding when he was the only one who really could. Scott knew about Clint's family, and Clint had never once stopped to ask about Scott's. He'd never even thought about it.

Considering all this, Clint was pretty sure he would have punched himself too if he'd been Scott.

Speaking of, the man - who'd been staying quiet in thought for a moment or two - finally spoke.

"Well...'alright' isn't the word I'd use but...I just...have a lot of practice with this." He sighed. "I don't know if you guys know this, I mean, you're the Avengers, so you probably don't take your background checks very lightly or whatever but, back in 2012, I kinda...did some shit." He muttered. "Stole some stuff I wasn't supposed to; did some things that weren't allowed and...I got booked."

He ran a hand through his hair, face resigned and tired. "I was sentenced to three years. And you know..." He angled his head towards Clint." ...the biggest problem I had wasn't that all the guys looked like they could take on Cap over there and give him a run for his money. It wasn't that the toilets looked like a bunch of five-year-olds did arts and crafts with scrap metal to make them. And it wasn't even that the food looked like glue mixed with whatever shit they found in the arts and crafts toilets."

Clint couldn't help but scoff at that.

"No...it was that my wife refused to allow Cassie to visit me. I had to go three years without seeing my daughter."

The archer stared back at him for a moment before blinking in shock. "God...how did you do it?" He breathed, not even able to imagine going so long without seeing his family.

Scott gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "I guess, ironically, it was her. Cassie was the reason I was able to survive because she was my incentive to survive."

Clint said nothing. Scott glanced down at the picture in his hands, a small passive smile gracing his lips.

"I figured, after all the shit I put her through, the least I could do was make sure she'd still have a worth-while father when I got out. So, I pushed through it. I focused on her and only her." He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "So...I guess I have a little practice with this feeling. I know what it's like to leave the people you love, worrying about whether they're okay and when you'll see them again."

He waved the picture slightly. "But, as long as I have this, as long as she's still out there, I have a reason to fight." And in that moment, Scott's face morphed into a look of such determination that Cling almost had to do a double-take. She sheer seriousness on the man's face made him blink as Scott stared straight at him. "And I swear to God, I'm not gonna stop. And neither should you."

Clint stared back at him for a moment before turning away, staring down at the ground as he licked his lips. "When I, uh...when I left, Cooper was still struggling with his Algebra. I...I promised to help him study for his big test at the end of the quarter." His voice wavered slightly. He didn't bother in clearing it. "L-Lila's been recording the episodes to this new show she's been crazy about." The man smiled, his eyes glossy and misty. "I don't even know what it's about. Ponies, princesses? Still, she recorded them so that we could watch them together." The words cracked as his hands curled into fists against his knees.

"And...Nathaniel, my youngest, was...w-was just starting to...t-to stand on his own. H...He's gonna start walking...and...and I'm...not gonna be there. I'm not gonna be there to catch him on the other side of the room. I just-"

He couldn't finish as the words were swallowed up, his throat closing as a few stray tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, his hand going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He didn't even care anymore. He didn't care that in all his days of working in the field, he'd never once shed a tear. He didn't care that he was being so emotionally vulnerable in front of a man he didn't even know considered him a friend. He didn't care...because it was his family.

For a moment, the two men said nothing, the silence engulfing the pair as the last few traces of light began to disappear behind the horizon, the sky melting into a pool of deep blue, faded pinks and glossy purples, the last traces of orange and red fading.

"I'm not saying this is easy." Scott finally spoke. Clint cleared his throat and stared hard at the ground. "I mean, Cassie's not the only one I left. My..." He paused, seemingly unsure of himself for a moment. "My...friend, Hope probably didn't even know this happened until she saw my name being plastered on the news. I only hope Cassie didn't find out that way."

He took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself before continuing. "Still, there's only one thing we can do. There's only one thing you can do. We stick together, we don't back down, and we keep fighting. And I promise you, I promise you, I am going to make sure you get home to catch your son when he greets you at the front door." He placed a hand on Clint's shoulder, flashing the man a confident smile, eyes mirroring the pain flashing in Clint's.

The archer stared back at him for a moment before giving a small smile of his own. "I'll make sure it's not another three years before you see her again."

The two men nodded before turning away, each staring out at the darkening sky as the echoes of the distant city echoed faintly, the soft lapping of water drifting into the warehouse.

. . . .

. . . .

. . . .

"We should form a club."

"No."

"Like, 'Dads United', or something."

"You're ruining the moment."

"We can get T-Shirts printed! Ooh! Ooh! Come up with a cheesy dad joke and we can put it on the back!"

"It's ruined."

 

---

 

Thursday - March 31, 2016

Mackview Shipping and Storage Center

10:05 p.m.

The moon hung high overhead, silvery wisps of light bouncing off the waves below in a trail of melted silver mixing with the ink black of the bay water. The stars lay covered behind a thick veil of smog and clouds, the moon pulling back the curtain just enough to cast a bright glow.

The soft sounds of waves lapping up against the sides of the docks filled the air, muffled only slightly by the distant sound of whirring metal and the even fainter scuffle of footsteps racing along the rooftops of the lined up storage facilities.

The shadowed figures crouched low to the roof, nearly concealed except for the slight shine of the silhouettes the moon cast upon them. They leapt across the remaining rooftops before stopping atop the one building in the center of the row, the largest of the five others. They silently crept to the center of the rooftop, where a transparent glass portion of the ceiling allowed them a clear view of the area below.

Conveyor belts that should have long since been deactivated were active and running, gleaming metal parts and circuits cruising atop the metallic surfaces. Large cranes lifted up huge wooden crates and deposited them to certain corners of the room and high-tech guns of various sizes and makes were being loaded into said boxes by near two dozen men and women. It was hard to miss the bright glow of the weapons, the advancements installed in each obviously not from Earth.

"So...I'm guessing this is the place."

The others glanced over at Scott, who shrugged his shoulders. "Just making sure."

Cap glanced back down at the workers before resting his fingertips against the comm unit in his ear. "Any movement, Falcon?"

There was a moment of silence before the transmission broke through on the rest of their comms. "Negative. No outer forces moving in. If anyone's coming to relieve these guys, it won't be for a while." He responded, Cap stealing a small glance towards the distant storage crates near the docks, where Sam stood on lookout.

The man nodded. "Alright, just keep us posted. We can't afford any mishaps here."

"Copy."

Steve raised his head to glance back at the others, silently asking if they were ready.

Natasha rested her hand against the top of her gun, cocking it in preparation as she fiddled with another strapped to her side.

Scott pressed a button near his neck and the helmet to his suit folded over his face, the lenses glaring bright red in the light of the moon overhead.

Clint raised his bow and gripped an arrow from behind his head, resting it on the top of his curled finger as the string began to shiver with each movement of his hand.

Wanda narrowed her eyes, the irises instantly glowing a bright crimson red as her hands lit with the same energy, the ground around them shining slightly with the bright light emanating from her.

Cap raised his hands slightly and pressed a trigger installed into the sides of his gloves. Instantly, the metallic bands wrapping around his forearm disbanded and raised up to form twin long gray shields that stretched from the tips of his elbows to cover his hands. He had still yet to get used to the new weapons T'Challa had bestowed him in place of his usual red and blue alternative, but it was better than nothing.

Their answers were clear. Steve narrowed his eyes.

"Let's move."

 

---

 

The men milled about unperturbed, going about their usual business of unloading and packing boxes, checking newly crafted weapons and inspecting them for shipment. The sounds of machinery filled and air as well as the soft whirring of the conveyor belts around the room.

One man moved away from the machines and picked up a stray clipboard laying one one of the remaining crates, flipping through the pages as he narrowed his eyes. In his concentration, he took no notice of the soft thump of a body hitting the ground near the back of the warehouse, nor did any of the other men. Two more thugs went down in silent heaps without any notice, their disappearances flying past the radar.

In fact, it wasn't until one of the nearby machines fizzled and exploded did they finally take notice that something was amiss. The stray arrow attached to the now-steaming metal made them all freeze.

Glass shattered above their heads as Captain America exploded from the rooftop, the sharp shards raining down around them as he landed on one man's shoulders, the figure folding like wet paper as the soldier rolled along the ground and rammed his fist into the chest of another thug, sending him flying backwards where he hit the wall hard, a clear difference than going straight through the wall, had the soldier not been holding back.

Hawkeye and Witch were next as they shot through one of the warehouse windows in a burst of crimson light, arrows draw and hands clenched.

Widow revealed her position behind one of the larger crates as she leapt over and wrapped her legs round the nearest man dragging him down to the floor as she jabbed her wrist against the side of his neck, sparks of electricity exploding from the minuscule taser. The closest man whipped out his gun and aimed it at her, only to gasp and watch as the gun was suddenly jerked out of his hands, his neck snapping backwards as an unseen force punched him in the chin. Ant-Man suddenly appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, ramming his foot into the man's face, knocking him unconscious.

For a moment, a wave of silence rang out through the warehouse as everyone froze, eyes locking onto eyes, muscles coiling in either shock or preparation. The whirring of machines died down to a soft droning in the background.

Instantly the stupor shattered as the men lunged for their guns, whipping them out as fast as they could, the building exploding into a cacophony of noise before anyone could blink.

Cap narrowed his eyes and brought his shields up just as a handful of bullets shot towards him, the dull sound of them making contact with the metal before dimly falling to the floor briefly met his ears for a split second as he made up the distance between him and the assailants, his fists shooting out faster than the bullets.

He felt one man's ribs crack as he rammed past him, groans of pain filling the air as he crouched low to the ground, sweeping the feet of the nearest thug before throwing his falling body towards another, the two rolling along the ground as he leapt over a third, bringing his elbow down onto his shoulders, a resounding crack meeting his ears.

Raising his shields to block another round of bullets, the man grabbed hold of one of the nearby hand rails along the wall and swung himself around it, feet connecting with the shoulders of another man, who flew backwards at the force of the hit.

More shots rang out as another pair of goons filed towards him, his shields instantly going up once more as he blocked himself off from the impending projectiles. as he covered himself from the barrage of bullets, one of the two thugs lunged for the nearby conveyor belt, grabbing hold of one of the newly made guns, a holder with an unusually large barrel that split off into four separate branches.

Without even a second thought, the man pulled the trigger. The backlash from the force sent his arm jerking to the side, along with the projectile of the gun's aim. A bright flare of blue light shot from the weapon, hitting a couple of filled crates, the boxes levitating up into the air as the gun raised back up, the crates following the movements of the barrel.

The man stared at the now hovering boxes while his partner continued to fire upon Cap, the man's eyes widening slightly at the now flying crates. However, the sound of a clicking trigger and the cease of loud bangs of gunshots dragged him back to reality. "Shit." The thug cursed before his partner swung the gun forward, the boxes following in his motions as they shot towards Cap.

He narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on the shields in hand as he leapt into the air, feet pushing against the closest box, launching him onto the next. Wrapping his hands around the sides, he reached for the next one, leg flying out as his foot connected with the final crate. The force of the kick sent the box shooting towards the two men, who screamed as it connected full force, sending them flying across the room, the weapons stored inside scattering everywhere.

The man rushed towards the box, grabbing one of the newly broken wooden planks from the sides as he ran alongside another group of men, whipping the plank forward, where it connected with the back of one person's head, sending them toppling to the ground. There, he leapt forward, sliding along the ground as he caught the leg of another, dragging him down while also twisting around back onto his feet before kicking the knee of another man, the sharp crack that followed eliciting an shrill shriek of pain that was instantly silenced as Cap threw a punch to the side of the man's head.

Pressing his hands against the cold concrete ground, Cap thrust himself upwards, feet connecting with the chin of another man, who reeled backwards, staggering into another oncoming pair of thugs, the group toppling to the ground together.

A sudden sharp whine filled the air as the man's eyes caught sight of a harsh glow. Glancing back, he noticed a woman holding one of the newly crafted weapons, the sides lighting up brightly as it charged up.

Cap ducked down as the charge shot over his head, the noise blaring through the air like a sonic cannon as the blast ripped straight through the wall behind him.

He narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his shields, sprinting forward. He twisted around the oncoming blasts, pausing to lift up his shield as a particularly strong blast tore through the air. He could feel the heat from the blast pressing against the metal of the barriers attached to his wrists, his feet sliding against the floor, his teeth gritting together as he fought against the beam currently driving him back. The air around him seemed to crackle and pop at the electricity and energy emanating from the beam. It almost reminded him of the same feel that Wanda's energy put out.

Narrowing his eyes, the man gave one final push of his shields before dropping to the floor, the beam shooting past overhead. Twisting around the oncoming blasts, he slid along the floor and ducked underneath another shot, ramming the woman in the chest with his shields before snatching the gun out of her hands, tripping her off her feet before knocking her out with another blow from the metallic bands.

He resisted the urge to crush the weapon right then, for he had no idea the kind of backlash such a dangerously charged device could release. He briefly thought back to Tony, realizing the man could probably have a reading out for them within a split second.

In his distraction, Cap never noticed as another goon reloaded and took aim at the back of his head. The sound of a loud scream of pain met his ears, causing him to whirl around, fists curled, only to pause as he caught sight of Natasha standing over a now unconscious form. She threw him an unamused glance. "Get your head in the game." She muttered before pulling out her gun, firing a couple shots before moving back into the fray.

She felt someone grab her from behind, large arms resting around her neck as the grip tightened. She wrapped her hands around their wrists and ducked down, flipping the man onto the floor in front of her as she laced a short cord around his neck, the sound of choked gurgling reaching her ears as she looped around and kicked back another pair of guys lunging for her.

Releasing her hold on the now limp body, she raced along the edge of the room and skidded past another two guards, releasing two small disks as she slid past, the huge burst of electrical charge running up their legs as they fell to their knees, the woman ramming her elbows into the sides of their heads before leaving the still bodies.

Pulling her guns out once more, the woman began to go on the offensive, covering whoever the thugs were taking aim at, incapacitating them before they could even let off any shots. The sound of distant cries of pain and choked off screams were the only indication of her hitting her targets as she fired. She noticed another large group of thugs lining up along the catwalks above their heads, guns drawn at they took aim on the heroes fighting below them.

Widow narrowed her eyes as she pocketed her guns once more, moving along the shadowed edges of the room where she wrapped her hands around the rusted metal of the ladder leading up to the walkway.

Quickly and quietly racing up it, she crouched low to the ground and charged the group, extending out another short cord as she slid underneath their legs, wrapping the steel-laced wires around their legs before pulling taut. Three of the thugs came crashing down while the remaining handful aimed their guns at her.

Instantly taking note of the cramped quarters of the catwalk, Natasha wrapped her hands around the thick wires attaching the walkway to the ceiling and looped around it, dodging the bullets as she swiped her foot at the nearest goon, the man letting out a startled shout as he toppled over the edge of the railing.

The remaining two didn't have time to react as the woman leapt over their heads and wrapped her legs around their necks, dragging them down to the ground where she attached another round of electrodes to their shoulders, bright sparks of electricity exploding into the air as they seized on the ground the woman gripping the previous wires tightly as she slid down them towards the ground below, rolling expertly along the stained ground before pulling out her pistols once again.

The woman let out a grunt as she felt someone ram the but of their gun against her chin, her head snapping back painfully as she reeled backwards. Eyes narrowing, the woman took notice of the lady now glaring at her, hair tied back as she threw her a disgusted snarl. She also noticed the shining gun tightly gripped in her hands, the glowing gun.

A small grunt fell from her lips as Natasha dropped to the ground, avoiding the sharp blast of the gun as the lady fired upon her. Placing her hand on the ground, Widow twisted her legs around and caught the woman in the back of the knees, dragging her to the ground.

However, instead of folding, the woman dropped onto her knees instead and whipped back around, driving her elbow forward. Natasha caught the limb as it flew out, pushing back against it as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a sharp, serrated knife, whipping it forward.

The woman reeled backwards as the weapon flashed before her, her hands reaching for the gun in her possession. Widow wrapped her free hand around the woman's shoulders as she dragged her down once again, the knife slashing along the woman's wrists as she reached for her gun once again.

She screamed out in pain and gave one final shove, knocking the woman off of her as she rolled along the ground and grabbed her gun once again, the sharp familiar whine filling the air as she let off a huge blast. Widow dove to the ground as the shot fired overhead, her grip on the knife tightening. Rushing forward, the woman ducked underneath the oncoming jab and rammed her shoulder into the woman's gut. The woman shot out a choked breath right as Natasha made a grab for the gun.

Wrestling it out of the woman's hands, Natasha shot a punch forward, her fist connecting with the center of the woman's face as her head snapped backwards. The woman didn't even watch as the thug crumpled to the ground, for she was already looking for her next target.

The woman barely even flinched as an arrow whisked past her face, an explosion sending wood chips and splinters flying from behind her, screams echoing out as the smoke shot forward. She caught sight of Clint standing atop a pile of crates in the corner of the room, face hard and eyes narrowed as he loosed another arrow, the projectile shooting across the room faster than she could follow.

The archer fired another once the previous shot hit its mark, his next target consisting of a group of machines still working in the corner of the room. The man reached behind him and pulled out a handful of connected arrows, placing all three against the taught string of his bow.

The sharp whistle that slashed through his ears as he released filled the air for a brief moment before the projectiles hit their mark, flashes of light illuminating the air as the metal machines parked and crackled before dying down, extended limbs dropping towards the floor as their electrical charges fizzled out.

Hawkeye reached behind him once again, only to wince as he heard a bullet whiz right past his ear, ducking down instinctively before leaping off of the boxes, breaking towards the group currently taking aim at him.

After a split-second analysis of the situation, the man dropped his bow and ripped his knife out from its holster around his waist, the weapon much more equipped for close-quarters fighting.

The thugs raised their guns, bullets hailing down around him as the man leapt forward and rolled along the ground, slashing the knife upwards through the air as the serrated edge sliced through one of the men's arms, blood spurting into the air.

He screamed out in pain, the sound instantly being cut off as Hawkeye swept his legs out from underneath him and rammed his knee into the man's chin, effectively knocking him out before dropping his limp body back onto the floor, kicking it forward as it threw the other three goons off balance.

Reaching into his belt, the man tightly grasped onto three flat metal prongs, hurling them forward, where they embedded themselves into the men's arms and shoulders, not deep enough to be fatal, but serious enough to elicit shouts and screams of shock and pain.

Utilizing the momentary distraction, the man raced along the ground, whisking up his bow as he ran and twirled it around in his hands, hands running along the metal edges as the bow melded back into a plain, long bow-staff.

Spinning the weapon over his head, the man swung it forward, the metal catching the back legs of one thug while ramming into the shoulder of another, digging the metal pins in deeper than before. Blood dripped onto the concrete, smearing across the ground as the men stepped and slid in it.

Thwacking one man in the head while conking out another woman, Hawkeye twisted the last man's arm behind his back before driving him down to the ground, foot colliding with the side of his head before his body went still.

The archer whipped the staff hard, the metal transforming back into that of his normal bow. He reached behind him and gripped another arrow, eyes scanning the warehouse for any signs of his teammates in distress.

Across the room, Clint could just make out Ant Man seeming to appear out of nowhere as he punched a man out before disappearing once again right as another woman tried to attack him from behind.

She whipped around wildly, trying to make out the man's presence, only for her arm to twist around behind her back all of a sudden as the man reappeared, driving his elbow into her shoulder, effectively driving her down.

Loud pops and shots fro the nearby gunmen rang out, an approaching group firing heavily on the man who seemed to keep disappearing and reappearing. Ant Man shrunk down right as the bullets shot forward. Despite not being able to see the man, the group continued to fire, hoping to blindly hit the man out of pure luck.

Suddenly, one man's gun was knocked from his hands, the weapon clattering down around his feet, followed by another and another until all their guns were either knocked away or destroyed. Before any of them could whip out any more weapons, Scott grew before their eyes, fists flying out faster than they could counter, the group falling to the floor as they clutched broken noses or nurses shattered jaws.

The familiar crackling of the comms rang in their ears as Clint's voice broke through. "Ant Man, you see that big machine over there in the corner?" He asked, said man glancing behind him as he dodged another attack. "Yeah, what about it?"

"I think the exterior is impervious to my arrows' electrical currents, I can't get it to shut down."

The man nodded. "Say no more." He called back before pressing a small button on the side of his helmet, mind instantly focusing as he'd been trained to do. Not even a second later, a large Carpenter ant landed before him, wings extended as its antennas twitched.

Wasting no time, the man leapt up onto the bug's back as the familiar buzz of their rapid wings filled his ears, the ground disappearing from sight as they took off.

It only took a few seconds for Ant Man to locate the machine that Hawkeye had been talking about. It was obviously the biggest one out of the other machines, most likely the most important one as well, which would explain why it was proving to be so difficult to disable it.

Leaping off of his ant right as they flew above the machine, the man tucked his legs underneath him as he rolled along the metal surface, cushioning his fall slightly as he took off running, eyes scanning the metal paneling for any sort of cracks or lines that could mean his way in.

Finally, Scott caught sight of a break in the metal between the panels and the wiring. Narrowing his eyes, the man leapt forward, sliding in between the panels easily before landing down between the wires and the circuit panels. Slowly lowering his arms, the man cautiously glanced around, movements purposely slow as to not trip anything that might make the entire machine explode. After all, he was kinda...inside of it.

His heart beat wildly in his chest, his adrenaline still spiked high and dangerous. He ran his hands along the wires tracking the walls of the circuits, glancing at the outlets they connected to and the slight sparks of electricity that ran through them.

Taking a deep breath, the man tightly gripped one of the wires before giving a hard yank, the machine jerking violently for a moment before falling still once more. He could still feel the vibrations of the motor underneath his feet. It was still active. Taking hold of another two wires ,the man let out a grunt as he ripped them away from the sides as well, the machine letting out a loud whine and fritz as the vibrations increased for a second before dying away altogether.

The man smiled behind his mask before climbing out of the metal paneling once again. "Machines are down." He called over the comms as he hooked an arm around his ant once more and hoisted himself up, the ant taking to the skies once again.

Wanda barely paused in her movements as Scott's voice rang out through the transmission, her hands twisting out in front of her as she hoisted two men into the air and slammed them together, loud grunts falling from their lips as they collided before promptly being thrown back down to the ground.

THe continuous ringing of gunshots firing across the building made it difficult to deduce when a particular shot was being aimed at you, which was why Wanda didn't notice the guns being drawn on her until one bullet grazed her shoulder, the heat of the metal burning her skin as it ripped through her clothes.

The girl whipped around and caught sight of the group trailing their guns on her, pistols raised and hands shaking as they watched their numbers begin to die down around the room. Wanda's eyes narrowed as a slight reddish glow began to emanate from her irises.

With a grit of her teeth, the girl propelled herself off of the ground, hovering in the air as she fired down upon the group, spirals of crimson energy raining down around them faster than any bullets they hd previously fired, explosions of red-tinged light blinding the thugs as they shielded themselves from the heat swirling around them.

The girl curled her fingers into a fist, the energy trails trailing around them suddenly constricting as they grabbed hold of the group, hurdling them together into a tight circle. Wanda extended her palms fired another single shot at the group, the projectile exploding out around them, knocking them out instantly as they all collapsed to the floor.

Wanda dove back down to the ground as more bullets rang in the air. She landed on the ground near another group and opened her hands, slamming them together as a shockwave of crimson light shot forward, knocking the group off of their feet.

She high-pitch charge of a new weapon caught her ears, the same sound that had been ringing out around the building throughout the fight. The girl ducked to the ground right as a bright green shot fired straight over her head, destroying the roof above them. Showers of concrete and debris littered the floor as it fell, the girl's eye catching sight of the man currently wielding a large weapons resembling a bazooka, only smaller and more compact.

The girl steadied her feet as she faced off against the man, fists curling at her sides as pools of energy dripped down towards her fingertips, the barrel of the gun lighting up in green fire as it readied to shoot.

The click of a trigger was Wanda's only warning before the gun fired, a steady beam of green energy charging forward. LIfting her hands up, the girl countered with a blast of her own, green and red colliding together in an explosion of white light as the two beams fought one another for dominance.

Wanda could feel her feet sliding against the concrete as the beams pushed her back, her eyes narrowing into slits as her teeth gritted together, a loud grunt passing past her lips as she shouldered the full force of the attack, her hands shaking slightly as she took a step forward, driving her shoulders down as she fought back. Step by step, the girl began to gain more ground on her opponent as the red beam began to eat up more and more of the green.

As she attacked, she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye.

Another shadowed figure stood near the corner of the warehouse, only he seemed much smaller than the other thugs and goons that were currently dropping like flies, even if his attire was the same. As the figure inched his way along the back wall, Wanda was just able to make out his face, instantly recognizing the features of a teenager, no older than eighteen. The boy stared at her, eyes wide and lips parted as his frantic eyes glanced over towards the emergency exit. He cast the room one last glance before disappearing out the back door.

The girl's first instinct was to go after him, realizing that leaving even one person free could jeopardize their entire mission, but a particularly strong push from the gun's blast had her mind focusing back onto the present.

Finally, with one last thrust of her hands, the energy swirling from her hands engulfed the blast from the gun, encompassing both the weapon and the man, who shouted in pain at the scalding sear of her energy wrapping around him.

Cutting off the attack, the girl watched as the man crumpled to the ground, the smoking remains of his gun clattering in pieces around him.

Taking a second to catch her breath, Wanda glanced around as she realized she could actually hear the sharp intakes of her breath, something she hadn't been able to do while the battle was at full peak. Glancing around as she took notice of the unusual calm, she realized that there were no thugs left to take down. The room was full of writhing bodies or still forms, smoking machines and cracked holes in the walls of the building. The remaining Avengers stood scattered around the room, inspecting their work or the weapons lying around the room.

Nobody looked seriously injured. The girl let out a small breath at that.

Her teammates stepped over scattered bodies as they met up in the center, Cap stooping down to pick up one of the weapons. The metal casing was blackened and burnt, but the alien tech infused inside still let out a faint purple glow. The man narrowed his eyes. "Damn.." He muttered, having still held onto hope that perhaps the rumors had been wrong.

"How many more do you think they have?" Scott asked, flipping the visor of his helmet up to reveal his worried face.

Natasha gave a small shake of her head as she snapped her pistol back into its holster. "After the Chitari invasion, there was alien tech scattered all across the city. There's no telling how much these guys got their hands on, but judging from this I'd say it's enough to cause us some trouble."

Clint let out a grunt. "Great, cause we can't seem to get enough of that." He snapped, strapping his bow to his back once again.

The sound of distant sirens faintly reached their ears, making the all snap back to attention. Sam's voice filtered in through the comms. "Guys, you might wanna wrap this up. We're gonna have some company in a couple minutes. Five top."

Wanda snapped back to reality as she turned towards Cap. "There was another criminal near the back of the warehouse, a boy. He go away before I could stop him." She sighed, voice revealing her frustrations.

The others shared concerned looks, realizing that such a mistake could lead to their reveal. Steve glanced behind him at the back of the warehouse, the faint light of flashing red and blue lights making him narrow his eyes as he turned back towards the girl, resting a hand on her shoulder. "We'll worry about that later. But we're not done here yet."

The girl stared hard at him for a moment before giving a slight nod of her head. It didn't take long for the others to round up the unconscious or disarmed thugs, collecting them in the center of the room. The men who were still conscious glared at the heroes, teeth grinding as they shot venomous looks at the rogues.

"We've seen your faces!" One man snapped. "You better let us go or we'll tell them cops everything! We'll tell everyone!" He grinned.

The remaining Avengers shared looks as Wanda stepped forward, trails of crimson energy beginning to pool in her hands as her eyes began to mist over in red light. As her fingertips began to twitch, the red mist slowly began to encircle the men, reaching long tendrils of energy towards their eyes. Natasha gave a small smirk from where she stood. "Tell them what exactly?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Somehow, I don't think you'll find it quite so easy to remember what happened here."

Wanda's face grew hard as she glared down at the group, who were now staring at her with wide eyes as they were encircled by her energy. She narrowed her eyes. "And you won't be telling anyone anything." She growled before the room exploded in crimson light.