{5⁵} {EDINBURGH}

SAM AND STEVE met them not half an hour later, five miles out from the area in Venezuela that they'd been staying in. Normally the two women would be the ones to use the Quinjet as it had been Natasha who had got the jet, one way or another, but this time, it had been Steve and Sam who had control of it. They'd needed it to change location, as they did from time to time, and due to their distance from Natasha and Roxi, they hadn't been able to take the jet back yet. While the two women had been in Venezuela, partly for the views and the atmosphere, Steve and Sam had taken up residence in Spain. Sam had suggested it jokingly at some point, said that they should see where Roxi had come from, and Steve had seemed to think that it was a good idea. In fact, they'd been staying in the same house that she had all those years ago when Natasha had called her on Fury's orders. The house had been hers, and although it would be in a state of considerable disrepair by now, it would still be usable enough for the two men to stay there. As Bruce had told Roxi, he'd also called Steve, which was evident when the two men stepped out of the quinjet. His face was serious and as soon as his eyes settled on the two women, some form of relief seemed to spark in him, and his body language relaxed ever so slightly. He couldn't afford to relax completely; none of them could. Not with what was coming. Not with the battle that once again inevitably drew close. Still, he greeted Natasha with a brief hug and Roxi with a stiff nod, before glancing around the landscape to check that no-one was watching them.

Roxi acknowledged Sam in the same way she had Steve, knowing that the waterfall of emotions she had felt less than an hour ago had to evaporate entirely before they continued on their way. She'd managed to mostly deal with it, for once. She hadn't shoved them down, hadn't suppressed them so that she could focus on this mission. She'd somehow learnt to deal with them properly, to encourage her mind to work in a more normal way, even if it would only be regular for someone in a similar position to the one that she found herself in. She would never have an average mind, not with nightmares and other horrors clawing at her mind and attaching themselves to her so that they dragged behind her like some sort of awful veil. It seemed mandatory, that to do the job that she did, your mind had to become haunted, that it had to try and sabotage you with an efficiency past anything that you would face in the career. Roxi shouldn't have been used to it, but most of her had eventually become desensitised to it. That didn't mean that she didn't wave up in cold sweats with dread running through her in place of where blood should've been, that she didn't want to sear her skin off because of the memories that crawled beneath it, because she did. It simply meant that she had grown to expect it, nothing else. There was little that she could do to prevent or prepare for them, not when there were so many things that could resurface inside of her head.

But now, there only seemed to be dregs of the newfound dread that had surged through her at the news that Bruce Banner had brought her. She would deal with those on the way to wherever they needed to go. And that, after a brief bout of conversation, turned out to be Edinburgh.

Steve had explained to Natasha what exactly was happening on the way, and the blonde had found herself reacting in a similar way to Roxi, and had slid her hand into Roxi's for comfort, a hand brushing down the vest that she wore to remind her of Yelena. Sometimes the memory of her sister's antics was exactly what she needed to calm herself down. She noticed the way that once again, Roxi had begun to fiddle with her keyring, her jaw tensing every now and then, undoubtedly at the prospect of what was to come. It prompted Natasha to squeeze her hand, to let the woman know that she was there for her, and it seemed to work, because Roxi stilled for a second, and then sent Natasha a strained smile. It was as much as the tension in the jet allowed.

When they landed, retro-reflection panels still engaged, and stepped out into the city, the chill wasn't the first thing that Roxi noticed. It'd been a long time since she'd been in Scotland, longer still it's capital. She'd forgotten how impressive the city was. Cobbled streets, grand buildings, colourful paint plastered over old shop fronts. It all held a unique sense of nostalgia that Roxi was sure that she didn't need in that moment. The city should've been beautiful, as she'd found it years ago, enchanting even. Darkness had long since dawned over the buildings, and the street lamps that she remembered would glimmer like shattered stars, any patched of glass glinting a dark, jade green. It should've been a scene out of a painting, a story-book night that should've carried promise of a fairy-tale ending. It wouldn't, she knew that. The cars roaring and whirring in the background at a perfect volume, it was off-putting; unusual. But what was disturbing, what threw everything out of balance, was that in the time that they'd landed and had begun to traverse one of the steep slopes of Edinburgh, was that Roxi hadn't seen a single person. Despite the time, cities as large as this were rarely quiet, especially in their business. They were here for Wanda and Vision, who hadn't checked in with them for around two weeks, and while Roxi knew both where they were and likely they hadn't communicated recently, a bubble of anxiety rose inside of her at the thought of Wanda especially being hurt. The young Maximoff had been through enough in her life already, just as most of them had. None of them needed more danger, more violence to plague their minds, but it seemed as if that was what they'd always get.

It wasn't hard to find the pair of ex-Avengers in the end, though Roxi wished it could've been. The sounds of smashing windows, the deadly scarlet of Wanda's powers, beams of energy that reminded Roxi nastily of the attack on New York, all three things lead them to their quarry quickly, and it was a good thing that they did. Roxi shot Steve a look as they reached the outside of what she vaguely remembered to be a train station, one that reminded him of the idea of surprise which would undoubtedly help them gain the upper hand against whatever it actually was that Wanda was fighting. And with that, they moved into an action so painfully practised that it was easy to tell that they were far too used to conflict for their own good.

Natasha and Roxi sent each other a swift glance and nod, deciding their actions through that brief rye contact, and moving to opposite sides of the small station. Steve had already slipped in, through a random side door and Sam had flown to the roof, standing on one of the sturdier girders in hopes of making as little noise as possible. Roxi could hear a train coming, and shook her head ever so slightly with a small sigh at the idea that Steve would be able to have the dramatic entrance that he normally did, getting in position and awaiting some sort of signal.

The signal, as it turned out, was the sound of Steve catching something that had been hurled through the air, promptly accompanied by the loud breaking of glass as something inside shattered - presumably Sam's fault as Steve seemed to be occupied.

Roxi began moving almost immediately, knowing that Natasha would do the same and that they would both have an element of surprise that they would be able to use to their advantage. Natasha reached the fight first, immediately drawing near the action as Roxi sprinted into the station towards the conflict from the far corner that she'd been hidden in. She'd expected something unusual, that they would be fighting something not-quite ordinary, but aliens that resembled the Chitauri that were still woven into the veil that trailed behind her was not quite what she'd been ready for. They had the same weapons, but there were only two of them, and they seemed insurmountably stronger than their weak, purple counterparts that she, Natasha and Steve recalled fighting in 2012. But they were used to fighting as a team now, and through Roxi's fluid control over metal, her communication with Natasha, whose combat skills were higher than Roxi's could ever hope to be, Sam's aerial advantage and Steve's super-strength, the fight didn't last as long as she had thought that it would.

Several times, Roxi had had to stop the spear-like weapons of the aliens from hitting her teammates,  even going so far as to pull one of the weapons away when she had enough time and concentration to do so. The aliens were fast though, especially the more feminine of the two. It seemed lithe, strong, and managed to slide far more hits in than its masculine counterpart did.

Both of them ended up on the floor though, in front of the train tracks, and Roxi felt a sense of pride swell within her. They'd grown immensely as a team and in themselves since 2012, so much so that Roxi could barely remember a time when Natasha wasn't with her, or that Tony wasn't trying to crack some sort of joke about her and her name, or even Steve and his common brooding silences and almost painful sense of justice. The four of them formed a wall in front of the alien-like beings, Roxi determined not to let them see the damage that they had done to Vision - she had caught a glance during the battle - because to her it seemed imperative that they felt no sense of control or power over them. They were here to act as a deterrent, as a shield, though if the fiasco with the Sokovia Accords proved anything, it was that it didn't always work.

"We don't wanna kill you, but we will," Natasha cautioned carefully, watching the two beings with cold eyes that matched Roxi's closely. They'd both picked it up from each other, and now they were especially good at it. It didn't hold that much value, in retrospect, but it made Roxi smile, when they managed to learn from one another. That was how things were supposed to work, right?

"You'll never get the chance again." The feminine alien's voice was slightly distorted, as if spoken through a loudspeaker and then stripped down to the bare vocals. What happened after that was something that seemed to happen in every story, at least those that involved aliens. A sudden wind seemed to pick up, and a gaunt, silvery-blue, lit up a patch around the two aliens as they were picked up by some kind of beam, and the weapon that Steve had taken from one of them was snatched from his hand violently, and taken with them. When Roxi finally had the sense to look up, as the rest of the group around them already were, her eyes were met with the sight of a ship - a circular one that Roxi had seen snippets of footage of from the news earlier that day. In fact, during an attack on New York, where Tony had been the first responder. What it being here meant for him, she wasn't sure, but she hoped that he was okay. She wasn't sure that she could handle losing another one of her family, especially one that she was so close to.

Roxi was the first to move over to Wanda and Vision, who had cleverly stayed out of the way of the battle, and reached them quickly as she helped to pull Vision up, his arm around her shoulder, and his weight feeling less than it would've for another person due to her affinity towards metal and her ability to support him ways other than physically.

"Can you stand?" Sam voiced his worry as the three Avengers - could they even be called that any more - walked over, Natasha stowing away her own weapons while her eyes flickered between Roxi and Wanda. Despite her initial wariness of the Maximoff, Roxi's attachment to her had grown to her caring about Wanda much more deeply than she's ever expected, or would care to admit. Vision didn't reply, but it was implied by the way he had been leaning on Roxi, and now Sam, who had taken the synthezoid's weight from her. That was all the opportunity that Roxi needed to pull Wanda up from her position on the floor and bring the younger woman into a hug. Wanda pulled her closer, resting her head on Roxi's shoulder, as if trying to drive the thought of what had just occurred from her brain. Roxi understood it. She wouldn't want to recall a scene that Natasha had been hurt in, one that she happened to be in too, because it would likely keep resurfacing and drive her to believe that she still wasn't quite good enough.

That was something that Natasha had been helping her to get over, to remind her that whatever happened, the outcome probably wasn't entirely her fault, and that she shouldn't take all the blame for it, or tell herself that she always could've done more, that it would've been enough if only she'd done some small thing different. It had started working, and the sea beneath the trapdoor in her mind had felt lighter and calmer because of it, and Roxi was hoping to continue that way.

"Let's get you on the jet." Wanda stayed in Roxi's hug for a moment, before she drew away with stormy eyes and a brief nod, that only made Roxi want to pull her back to her, and stay with her until she could discourage the demons that seemed to be preying on Wanda's mind. After all, that was what she did for Natasha, when the nightmares had gotten so bad that she couldn't sleep, or felt like throwing up every time she ate. She would pull her close, and allow the ex-assassin to relax into her, until she had separated herself from the reality that had forced itself upon her.

Natasha did it with Roxi sometimes too, though not nearly as often, because by now, Roxi had begun to come to grips with the idea that nightmares were just nightmares, nothing more, nothing less, and however horrible that they may be, that they were nearly always in the past, and the ones that seemed to be in the future. After all, she had never heard of a field of purple and orange flowers, not one quite so tranquil and off-putting as the one she remembered from her dreams. Where on earth, or even when, would that be, how would it be able to impact her, if it didn't exist? No, some things her mind just developed, as a way to keep her prepared, to keep her thinking as vigilantly as possible, she was almost sure of that by now.

There was no time to be sure of anything however, especially in a world that changed as constantly and as violently as theirs did, as oddly and as awfully as theirs did. 

Roxi helped Vision onto the quinjet, waiting for Natasha to come up the ramp and close it, so that they could be on their way to wherever they were going, so that they could be over with this, before it became so prominent that it affected her quite as severely as she had allowed the events in her past to. Maybe if they could do that, the aftermath of this wouldn't be quite so bad, just maybe.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Yeah, hi, am alive. Not dead. I wrote the first half of this a week ago and then had no inspiration to carry on and then i got my friend to yell at me to write so this chapter now exists. I'm just gonna publish this today caus it's been ages since i've updated and i don't wanna make you guys wait. Thanks frog :)

Pls vote, comment, let me know what you think, etc.,

JABBERJAY_011

WORD COUNT [2800]

WRITTEN [05.08.2021]

PUBLISHED [05.08.2021]