A/N: Don’t know if I should make this a series or an imagine, but I intend to write a second part regardless sooo…series? Positive feedback and critique is always appreciated!
Summary: You’re a junior scientist working at a world renowned facility. In a sick twist of fate, your life turns to chaos as you find yourself being the sole witness in a string of ongoing attacks, being investigated by the Avengers.
Warnings: Descriptions of violence, weapons, blood, profanity, etc.
PART I
Had you been told what your future held, you would have made different choices when you were younger. You would have broken up with your first love a lot sooner, tried sushi despite the concerning health risks, or bought that crop top from the boutique below your flat. In this moment, there is no doubt in your frantic mind that the culmination of your apparent, short life, was nothing but painful and bitter regret.
Your eyes are tightly shut and there’s a ball of fear lodged in your throat. You’re on your knees, hiding, praying, and trying not to scream, but the feeling of your coworkers’ blood is warm and wet and-
Click.
Your eyes open to see the culprit- the murderer– with her gun aimed at your head.
“Get up,” she orders and you comply. The once white laboratory is a mess, and you whimper at the carnage before you. With a harsh nudge, the blonde, masked woman pushes you forward. You don’t ask where she’s taking you.
You already knew.
Of course, working at a world class facility for biochemical research comes with certain risks, but you’d expected to be taken down by a super bacteria, not a freaking bullet.
“Stop walking. Open the doors.”
Common sense and self-preservation told you to comply, but you knew how dangerous the materials behind those doors were, especially in the hands of that sick son of a bitch.
‘Don’t be a hero, Y/N. Do what she says. Don’t die. Don’t die today.’
“Hurry the fuck up. My patience is dwindling. Fast.” She presses the gun into your temple.
“I…can’t.”
‘I’m such a dumbass. Fuck. Shit…fuckfuckfuckfuu-’
“Oh?” she nudges the gun against your head. Harder this time. “How about now?”
You want to scream. You’re terrified, angry, frustrated, sick. You want to live, but the math is simple. One life- your life- versus the several out there…
The heavy rhythm of someone’s footsteps cause your oppressor to still. You hold your breath.
“You heard the lady.Back away from the door and drop the gun.”
Your focus shifted from the woman in front of you to the source of the deep voice- a long haired man in a combat suit, holding a rifle in his metal arm.
“You alright, ma’am?” He asks kindly. You give him an incredulous look.
You want to say: “I’m covered in the blood of my coworkers, their murderer has a gun pressed to my head, and I’m being forced to aid someone in possible biochemical warfare.”
Instead, you shake your head ‘no’, incredibly wary of your attacker’s presence. The man inches closer at your response.
“Forget it, Soldier. She comes with me, or this facility, along with every civilian within a five-mile radius, is blown to dust,” the blonde assassin threatens.
Your would-be saviour is about to call her bluff before she interrupts him.
“Go on,” she taunts, “confirm it with your fellow Avengers.”
‘Avengers?’ you think, daring to exhale in relief. Perhaps there was hope for you yet.
“What’s your name?” There’s a tense pause before you realise the soldier directed the question at you.
“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” You whisper. The man- the Avenger– lowers his gun and you begin to panic even more, but he holds your gaze steady in his and says,
“I need you to open the door for her, Y/N?”
‘What?’
“But I-“ you begin to protest, but the stern look he gives you, combined with the smug demeanour of the deadly woman stops you. With slow and heavy hands, you tap in a code you’d never used until now, and lead the woman into the open prohibited zone.
“See, Y/N. Was that so hard?”
You don’t need to face her to notice her smirk. Her tone was expression enough. Blonde hair and black eyes were her only identifiable features, but the image of her half-hidden face and the fear it invoked within you was now burned into your memory.
She glides past you and approaches a clear case in the back of the room. Picking it up, she tucks it safely under one arm, and raises her gun with the other, aiming it at you one last time. The heavy rhythm of footsteps follows. The assassin speaks.
“You should have opened the door the first time, Y/N.”
A single shot echoes throughout the room.
You’re on the floor in the same instant, ears ringing and blood seeping from the man on top of you. The blonde woman is nowhere to be seen.
“Hey. Y/N, hey, listen to me-“ his words are cut off by a loud noise. You don’t realise the terrified screams are coming from you until a metal arm pulls you into a chest. His chest. Your cheek lays on the rough material of his suit, but it doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real.
“You’re okay…you’re okay now. It’s over, Y/N,” he tries to comfort you. Soon enough, your screams turn into shaking as you stare into his blue eyes.
“Y-you…you’re bleed…blood.” You point to his injured side to compensate your incoherent speech. You look down at your pants, and almost retch at your still blood soaked attire.
‘This isn’t real.’
“Don’t worry about that. C’mon, let’s go”. He slowly rises, holding his side with one arm and you shakily join him. You watch him put a finger in his ear, and his lips begin moving. Your hearing fades in and out.
Maker's Breath 