Ms. Behave [The Winter Soldier Fanfiction]

5. Fight Me

Where did he go?!

I swear I just had him and like that, he's gone. Don't tell me that I was seeing things! No, I was not... Where did he go? I look around me in search for him and see nothing. No one. And just when I think that I've lost my mind, something hard hits my back and I go sprawling onto the cement on the roof. I quickly turn around and watch as he disappears again.

Crap, he's a teleporter!

How am I going to defeat a teleporter? Can I even move fast enough to? I quickly stand up and rush more inward onto the roof. The last thing I need is to accidentally fall off of the building.

A volume of kicks begin to come at me. I mean, every time I try to hit the guy he disappears and hits me somewhere else. After a while I begin to get really irked with this, and pull out a force field on him. I ignore my darkening vision and watch as he hits the ground with a thud.

The guy gives me a malevolent grin. "Haven't met anyone with that ability before," he tells me.

There are a bunch of weirdos that can manipulate fire, water, earth elements, and people's minds. There are the typical ones with forms of strengths, go through walls, and fly even. I know this cause I've met a lot of mutants in my life. I have known someone who had the ability to use a force, so as to hold back a tsunami or a falling skyscraper, but never the type that protects from shells and other deadly projectiles.

But that fact has nothing to do with anything at the moment now does it?

I shrug and watch as he disappears again. The normal brightness of the tiring day returns just as I see a fist about to execute an upper cut. I barely dodge the punch, but another one comes from behind.

Its beginning to get dark, and I'm just about done as I'm hit one more time. I now lay on my back, trying not to go berserk on this person, and watch as the guy briskly comes to stand over me with a dagger in hand. Is this man serious?

I begin to prepare a force field, but then the guy's eye widens, catching me off guard. He drops his dagger and I immediately notice that an arrow is protruding out of his chest, and I watch slightly disturbed as he falls over. I look around and make a quick conjecture about the origin of the arrow. In the distance on the roof of another office building, I make out a masculine figure that holds a bow.

The only person in the 21st century that still uses a bow and arrow would have to be Clint Barton AKA Hawkeye...

Time to go.

I rush all the way back to the underground parking area after I had quickly evacuated the hostages from the building, and as I'm about to be out myself, something extremely hard rams straight into me. This hit was like no other, this act of violence sends me back feet. To soften my fall, I do a concise summersault, ending with me on my feet with a hand on the ground for balance.

What is it now?!

I look up to see some tall white guy dressed in a spangly outfit with an equally patriotic shield attached to his arm. This must be the famous Captain America. Why? Why? Why? Can't I just go home peacefully?

"I was supposed to deal with the heist, but I guess you got to it first," he begins. "Who are you?"

I huff in prudence and remain silent.

"I heard you broke into Stark's tower. Why?"

I stand up straight and shrug, hoping to irk him.

Steve Rodgers looks away and back with a smirk on his face. "You're not the kind for words are you?"

I shake my head. "Can I go home now?" I ask him.

"Actually, since I'm here, I am to take you in. Your cooperation would be make things easier-"

I shake my head 'no'. I don't feel like dealing with him nor anyone who's affiliated with him. I just want to go home, and go to sleep. Ugh, I knew this was a bad idea. "Screw you and your SHIELD. I only took the files so I could figure out the identities of the Avengers, not to get information on SHIELD." Though that's what I ended up stumbling upon, I add mentally.

"But what exactly would you gain by knowing our names?" Rodgers asks me.

I shrug once more. "Good point."

"I'm not going to ask you again. Peacefully-"

I shake my head. "I don't feel like it," I tell him. Man, my mask's voice box is starting to break up. After hours of me getting punched and kicked by things I'm surprised that it's still working.

"Fine." Steve takes his shield and chucks it at me. I'm slightly confused as to why he did that, but I pull out my hand and catch it. I'm lucky that I'm not as frail as the average human, cause... I could've broken my hand.

"What is this?" I ask. "Ultimate frisbee? How old do I look to you? Five?" By the look on his face, he seems shocked at the fact that I caught it in the first place. I throw it back to him and await his next move.

The battle commences with Steve rushing towards me with the intent of bringing pain upon me. I quickly block his downward punch but don't move fast enough to evade a hard impact on my chest from his shield. I'm pushed back by this and wince at the quick but pressed pain that shot through my upper body. Ow! Right in the freaking boobs...

That sacred shield of his is definitely not a laughing matter. Jeez, that hurt. "Ouch," I say, my voice glitching. Great, my mask if officially broken. Now I have to resist from using my dry humor to annoy this guy.

"Now I'm wondering what you would actually sound like," Rodgers states, hearing my current struggle with my mask's technical difficulties.

The pain subsides and I'm ready to go another round, but this time I mentally prepare myself to move faster and stronger. As with a guy as big as himself, I'm just going to have to be more agile in general.

This time I'm the one to make the first move. We do a series of punching and blocking for the most part, getting us both nowhere. There have been multiple accounts when Rodgers would nearly maim me with his spangly discus, and I managed to get some good hits in, but all in all... the fight was pointless.

I finally get him in an uncomfortable position, smack his shield out of his hand, and slam my fist straight onto his face as hard as I can manage. I repeat that action one, twice, and three more times until he's down, or at least injured enough to impair his speed.

I take this lovely opportunity to make a run for it.

I rush out into the night still lit by government vehicles and high-rise buildings. Knowing that I'd quickly be noticed [with the mask and wind catching cloak and all] and picked out the huge crowd of people (who still surround the area, talking, interviewing, and etc with the victims of the heist, who are mostly just loitering at this point) I remove my mask and dressy coat, and I keep on running leaving those things behind. Rodgers isn't aware that I'm female, so doing that would have hopefully offered me some leeway.

I sprint for what feels like thirty minutes and then come to an abrupt end once I see the madness that cascades my home. A huge flash mob of men an women dressed in black padded attire with helmets that cover all of their head, with a thick black film that covers the upper portion enabling them to see someone without someone being able to see them.

Now they're at my house! What am I going to do now...?! Run the other direction I guess.

I turn and begin another rush, but then a pang of sharp and sudden pain rips through a small area on my shoulder. I come to a halt, and grab at something cool and smooth that attached itself to my shoulder blade. I yank it out and bring it over so I can look at it.

A plastic syringe had been shot at me. Interesting.

I toss it aside and resume what I was doing... What was I doing? No, stay focused... But why are my legs not moving...? Why do I feel so heavy and tired? My body can't be doing this to me right now... I'm slipping...

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