The Mimic (HE/HIM VERSION)

157

"I'm here. I'm right here." Y/n whispered in a soothing tone.

Wanda's sobs were the only thing that y/n could hear. The continuous explosions around them, the gunshots, the yelling, the alien screeches, none of it mattered more than Wanda.

It was a heavy, heartbroken sob. Something that both y/n and Wanda had experienced before. Pure mourning and loss. It was a suffocating feeling, dark and strong. There was no source of happiness in sight. Memories of Vision flashed through Wanda's mind as she tried to deny the fact that he was gone, but whenever she opened her eyes, she was met with his corpse.

Wanda clung to y/n as if she was holding on for dear life. Her hands dug into the back of y/n's mission suit, gripping on to any material that she could get her hands on. Her face was buried deep into y/n's shoulder, her hair spilling over and probably getting in y/n's face, but neither seemed to care. She had completely crumbled.

Y/n's eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Mainly because it didn't feel right to be staring at Vision's corpse, and because Wanda's hair was in her face, but there was another reason. He was in pain.

Y/n had been thrown against the same tree, twice. And he seemed to slam into the tree with the same body parts every time. His back, and the back of his head. So, Wanda clinging on and practically digging her hands into his back wasn't the most pleasant experience.

Y/n tried his hardest to ignore it and pretend as if he was completely fine, but it was hard. It felt like there were hot metal rods being pressed into his back, melting his skin. Of course that wasn't actually happening, but it sure did feel like it. His whole body felt as if it was on fire from the pain. Not to mention the warm, dripping feeling that seemed to be gathering at the back of his head. He was bleeding in other places from cuts, but that blood was nothing like the sensation on the back of his head. He was too scared to even touch the back of his head. If he did, his hand would surely come back covered in blood, and he couldn't handle that right now.

However, during y/n's inner turmoil and struggle, Wanda suddenly fell silent. Y/n didn't even notice until he tried to rub her back, but was met with nothing but air.

He opened his eyes with a confused frown, scanning the area for places that Wanda could've disappeared to. But she was nowhere to be found. Y/n could've sworn that he didn't feel Wanda move away from his arms. She would've been far too heartbroken, and it definitely wasn't normal that she would've just left Vision's corpse like that. Something wasn't right.

As soon as y/n looked down at his hands, he'd realised what had happened.

Thanos had snapped.

The dust of Wanda had completely covered him, but that wasn't y/n's priority. That wasn't his priority at all.

He needed to find Bucky, and he needed to find Bucky now.

All of the adrenaline and fear coursing through him seemed to cancel out all of the pain as he forced himself up and onto his feet. "Bucky?!" Y/n yelled out, reaching up to his ear for his earpiece, only to realise that it had been knocked out during his fight with Thanos. He cursed under his breath, suddenly beginning to sprint away from Vision's corpse and through the forest. He'd last seen him somewhere in the forest, he had to still be nearby.

The noises of gunshots and explosions on the battlefield had turned into a chorus of screams and yells of desperation. People were getting dusted left, right, and centre. It was horrifying. Pure chaos. Pure terror.

Y/n ran as fast as he possibly could through the forest. His mission boots destroyed the shrubbery underneath him with every heavy step, crushing every leaf and twig (and possibly bug) in his path. His shoulders slammed into trees and people as he continued to sprint, but none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was finding Bucky.

Y/n continued to yell his name, praying that he'd hear him over all of the noise. Half of the population was being dusted away. That meant that there was a fifty-fifty chance. A fifty-fifty chance for either of them to be dusted. Y/n continued to check his hands as he sprinted, making sure that he wasn't being dusted away. He had to find Bucky. If either of them were getting dusted, he wanted to at least see him first.

His eyes were wide with pure terror as he sprinted past people that were disappearing into thin air. Y/n's heart was beating out of his chest, his breathing was fast, and his feet didn't stop running. He couldn't stop running until he found Bucky.

Y/n ran for what felt like hours - even though it had only been a minute or so - and he couldn't find Bucky anywhere. Tears of desperation were beginning to form in his eyes as he stopped in the centre of one of the open clearings. He continued to check his hands as he scanned his surroundings, but he didn't seem to be getting dusted.

"Y/n?"

Bucky. It was Bucky.

Y/n's head whipped around at the sound of his voice, but the spark of relief in his eyes seemed to disappear as fast as it had appeared in the first place...

Bucky let out an uneasy chuckle as he stumbled toward y/n. "This feels really weird." He murmured, glancing down at himself with a nervous breath. He was getting dusted. One arm had already disappeared, and the rest of his body seemed to be going with it. In a matter of seconds, one of his legs had disintegrated into dust.

All it took was that one leg. That one leg and he was off-balance. That one leg and he had fallen face-first. The small amount of wind that hit him as he fell forward was enough to turn Bucky's whole body to dust.

Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds and he was completely gone.

Y/n didn't even have any time to react. He was stood in the centre of the clearing, in complete and utter shock. Bucky had been right there, and now he was gone. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he tried to process some of it, any of it.

He could hear the rest of the Avengers around him, but he still felt as if he was miles away.

Nat's hand appeared on his shoulder, and Steve's hand took a careful hold on his arm. They'd obviously noticed all of the blood on the back of y/n's head, and the fact that he was stood in such an unsteady position. They tried to walk him out of the forest, but y/n had his feet rooted to the ground, his eyes still fixed on the spot where Bucky had just been.

Thanos had won.

They'd lost.