Shattered Hearts ◇ L. Laufeyson

3 ◇ robot

Bleeker St. - New York City, New York

THE REBAR WASN'T going anywhere. Neither was I.

It was anchored in the rubble, keeping me in place. I was like a mouse stuck in a trap, or a human shish kebab.

I stood there, not moving a muscle, in hopes to minimize the damage I knew the rebar had caused. I didn't have much of a choice - a wound this deep was sure to cause almost immediate death if I even attempted to remove it. I couldn't die, not yet; I had to do what I did best; avenging.

Damn, I am the stupidest, most cliche person on this planet, I thought to myself, applying heavy judgement. Though my thoughts were indeed cheesy, I meant it. Someone had to pay for taking Thor and Loki's lives, not to mention countless Asgardians.

Thanos was still coming. And I'll be damned if I wasn't going to personally curb stop the Titan.

I just had to defeat this little rebar first.

I didn't have the usual Avengers earpieces we used during battle, and I lacked a cell phone - haven't had that since I was back in my penthouse. Oh, my gods; I wonder where my phone is.

Focus! I demanded from myself.

At least I didn't have an ugly alien breathing down my neck anymore. Though, with Squidward making his dramatic exit, that meant the Time Stone was no longer safe.

I shifted my weight uncomfortably, only making the pain situation worse. Gasping, I felt more blood ooze from the wound and realized if I didn't do something soon, I was going to bleed out. Even with the rebar acting as a cork to keep my insides together, the pain and blood loss might lead to me blacking out, and I needed to stay upright and in this exact position to stop anymore internal damage.

"Shit," I muttered, gritting my teeth. "Come on, universe, send me somebody," I pleaded half-heartedly, to anyone who would listen.

Turns out, someone upstairs heard my plea.

A warm gold light shined on my face and I squinted as a portal opened, revealing Wong. He looked worse for wear, but he was alive and in better condition than I was.

"Y/N!" He cried out, his usual seriousness completely gone and replaced with concern.

I smiled weakly at him. "Yeah, uh, Doctor Strange is an actual surgeon, right? He can, um, fix me up?"

Wong didn't approach this situation as lightheartedly as I did, and didn't laugh or even crack a smile at my question. The sorcerer pursed his lips and was in deep thought for a moment, before waving his hands to create another portal - one to Central Park.

Bruce's eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw me impaled by the bar. "Oh my god," he gasped, jogging to my side. His jaw was dropped, and his mouth bobbed open like a fish.

Wong spoke up again, his voice laced with sympathy. "I wish I could help you more, but the Time Stone has been taken; the Sanctem remains unguarded—"

"I've got her," Bruce cut him off, putting his hand on my shoulder encouragingly before looking back at Wong. "Go."

Without another word, Wong closed the portals and left Bruce and I alone in the street once again. I understood his leaving though, and wasn't offended.

"So, scale of 1 to 10, how bad is it?" I grimaced a bit as Bruce continued to look over my injury.

He glanced up at me, not bothering to sugar coat his diagnosis. "10. I can't believe you're still alive."