Next Generation

11: Another Winner

As it turns out, Torunn passed out after watching Luke in his "victorious" moment. The back pain was so excruciating, it made her vision blurry. She was out cold by the time a team of agents and Thor got to her. Her chest rising and falling at an even speed.

Angry, he turned to Luke who still collapsed on the floor.

"You big oaf! You have injured my daughter!", he ranted. His volume caused Luke to jolt up in a sitting position, still holding on to the waist of his shorts.

"I-I didn't mean to! I promise!", he stuttered. He may be the hulk, but he was intimidated by the Asgardian god. Bruce always told him about his great friend. How he was ripped and could easily take on an army of aliens.

Thor's expression softened. Luke was being sincere, it wasn't his fault he couldn't contain himself.

At a loss of words, he turned away from him, watching as an agent managed to get Torunn to open her eyes again.

Laura shrieked once she and Clint arrived at the site of an injured Francis. He looked like shit.

"Owww", he moaned softly into his arm. His other hand still holding on to his chest. It was beginning to harder and harder to breathe with each passing minute.

"Oh my god! Clint!", Laura panicked as she and her husband allowed a team of paramedics inspect Luk. He needed more care than anyone, due to his injury being internal. A man held on to his chest, leaning down to check his heartbeat.

"It's not slowing down...", he spoke as he motioned for the redhead next to him to bring in a stretcher. "He'll be fine", he finally looked up. Laura hid her face in Clint's chest, not wanting to see her son like this. Clint couldn't even make out where exactly Francis's bow was.

A team of agents loaded Francis's body onto a stretcher, being delicate and careful not to apply pressure to his chest.

James's bandage was now damp with more of his blood. He touched his injury lightly, his fingertips ghosting over the cut. James winced at the pain, hissing as he closed his eyes shut. His body slumped on the snow, letting it damp his suit. Who cares, they'll have to take it off anyway.

Natasha was the first to his aid. She slowly undid the bandage, taking a look at his injury. "It's not bad. It just reopened. You'll need more stitches", she told her son. Saddened that he was in pain, she carefully gave him a hug, letting go quickly before it could damage his cut any further.

A team of paramedics were about to load him onto a stretcher, but James refused. "I'm fine", he let Steve wrap his good arm around his broad shoulders, locking his arm around his son's waist. He wasn't limping, but the position allowed him to relieve some pressure from his wound. The idea of stitches making him shudder.

Victoria's head felt a little light, like the one time she snuck a few drops of some expensive liquor in her lemonade. Seeing Tony release his stress due to his drink, she thought to give it a try. After downing the cup, she felt lightheaded, although not tipsy.

Today, the feeling came back to her. Her mask undid itself as Tony approached her, leaning down to see her face. That's all she could see, his face. The tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and the carved laugh lines around his mouth.

"Victoria?", he said, although it was more of a question. She didn't look too good, she looked kind of drunk, in some sort of daze.

He helped her sit up, motioning for someone to come and check on her.

"Ouch", she hissed at the brisk movement, touching her temple with her suit-covered hand. At the sight of the paramedic, she let her suit go off. The iron revealing her skin as a man flashed a beam of light in her eyes.