TRUST MY HEART ━━━ 𝐛.𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

6. The 41st floor.

Magna's footsteps were lost in the growing rumble, the rising, world-shaking roar from the explosions and gunshots surrounding the helicarriers. She ran to a window and saw the spirals of fire, the injured, the dead—and in a handful of seconds, Magna had rushed from the front window to the back stairs again, eager to get to Rumlow -and also to meet the Falcon character. Up they went, higher and higher; the gyrations of the stairs seemed endless, and all the while the Maria Hill's voice rang in her ear, reminding them that they were running out of time.

Wilson heard doors burst open, quickly followed by the faint sound of Rumlow's hushed voice. He kept his knees bent and movements quiet, wanting the full effect of the surprise element. He was utterly aware that the HYDRA agent was armed, so his fists were his best bet since his handy suit was down. He camped behind a door, and waited. Just as expected, said door slowly opened, and in came Rumlow. 

— I'm on forty-one, headed towards the south-west stairwell.

Sam charged towards the other man, using the momentum to land a good one on Rumlow's face, and the gun dropped out of the latter's hands. Then he aimed for his lower region, but the well-trained agent blocked the kick, breaking out of his hold, managing to knock Sam down in the process with a throbbing sensation on his forehead. Rumlow had headbutted him; the brave man noticed and glared at his opponent. Before any of them could make another move, the doors swung open again, this time revealing Magna, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

She scanned the situation, barely glancing at the man on the floor, struggling to his feet. She assumed that was Falcon. Sam didn't recognize the brunette either, yet couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement. She looked angry, she looked strong. Furthermore, the way she glowered at the S.T.R.I.K.E member clearly meant they knew each other. Her muscles flexed with the intensity of her pose as they continued to stare down at each other. 

— Rumlow.- she greeted him curtly, almost bored, hand reaching for the knife in her belt. Her movements didn't go unnoticed by the man. Brock cocked an eyebrow. She was trying to distract him, saving some time so that Sam could ease his staggered breathing and stand up. — Down for a little rematch?- her emotions boiled and she felt rage ignite within her. 

Upon watching the man nod, she changed her mind, leaving the knife in place and taking two steps forward, to the centre of the fight. There was more than surprise in Rumlow's eyes, there was anger and also a perverted lust: the kind that has its wellspring in enjoyment of others' pain.

Sam was on his feet again at last, behind Magna, chest bouncing with expectation as his eyes darted between the two other people in front of him. She would have no chance if she lunged from this far; Rumlow would finish her before she made the distance. So, she let him come to her.

Textbook. Rumlow closed the distance, running to her and Magna quickly stepped back, only to find herself flattened against the wall. She waited until he was mere inches away, then she moved. Her first blow hit -colliding perfectly on his left cheekbone-, but her second one didn't. To her surprise, Rumlow caught her wrist just before she hit his face. He grabbed her elbow, snapped one hand on her wrist like a shackle, and then twisted. Marga flipped with it, pain shooting up her arm as he shoved her against the wall again. 

— Still insufficient, Magna.- he muttered behind her, a smirk of malice twitching his lips. — Just like our training sessions, huh?- he growled in her ear, one of his hands pulling her hair tighter, pressing himself against her to keep her in place. The other squeezed her hands together, tightening his grip to subdue her struggles. — But now I ain't holding back.- she rolled her eyes and flailed her head wildly.