Ghostwalker ▷ b. barnes [2]

xi. avengers assemble

STANDING UP WAS A BAD IDEA.

Clint leveled the quinjet in front of Stark Tower, where Loki and Thor could be seen fighting. Sam's first reaction was relief at seeing the blond god here and alive. But the moment Loki turned toward them, face twisted in frustration, and staff beginning to glow, relief was replaced with alarm.

"Um, Clint?"

Before the archer could maneuver the jet away, a blast of blue shot forward, exploding against the jet's right wing. The entire quinjet shook and began to tilt sideways— Sam stumbled, falling hard against the wall. She grabbed for the closest railing, wrapping her fingers around the metal and holding on to it as tightly as she could.

The jet groaned and spun; her stomach leaped as they began to lose altitude, spiraling toward the ground below. Somewhere on the street, she heard the sound of panicked screams and shouts.

Dammit. This is why she hated flying.

"Prepare for crash landing!"

The words left Clint's mouth not two seconds before they hit, the sudden impact jarring all the way up to Sam's skull. Losing her grip, she went sprawling, seeing stars as her head bounced off the floor.

For a long moment, she lost both sight and hearing.

She blinked once, twice.

There was a faint whirring and she realized the back was falling open, spitting blood and pushing herself up. She took a stumbling step forward and nearly fell into Steve, who steadied her with words that she didn't hear. Sam only nodded, starting unsteadily down the gangplank.

The entire city was in chaos.

And above, the things that poured out of the portal weren't the aliens she'd expected.

They weren't green and they didn't have giant bug-eyes or antennas. Instead, she found herself catching the sight of metallic, robot-like creatures, with faces that looked like egyptian skeleton dogs. And they were everywhere.

The nearest one leaped toward her and she flicked a knife out of her gauntlet, driving the blade into its skull. The Chitauri screamed and writhed, but eventually went still.

At least they died like normal aliens.

"Come on!" Steve gestured with his shield and turned, racing down the street. The other two behind her, Sam raced to follow, double blades out of her gauntlets, a pistol in hand. 

Screams and shouts filled the air all around them. People raced for cover, arms protecting their heads, faces pale and terrified.

It was all Sam could do to not follow them. She'd fought enough battles in the past. But this was new and this was terrifying. These were aliens, not nazis.