CHAPTER THIRTEEN —
( Let's go before someone grabs that shield and lists it on eBay. )

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After Clint dropped Steve off near Helen Cho's lab, he pulled the Quinjet back into the sky, circling wide to keep a visual on the surrounding routes. Evelyn stood beside Natasha inside the jet, killing time with a lazy tic-tac-toe game on a condensation-covered window.

They didn't get far before Helen Cho's voice broke through the comms.

"The real power is inside the Cradle. The gem, its power is uncontainable. You can't just blow it up," she said. "You have to get the Cradle to Stark."

"Did you guys copy that?" Steve asked

"Loud and clear," Evelyn answered, leaning forward to check the screen in front of Natasha.

"I got a private jet taking across town," Natasha said. "No manifest. That could be him."

"There. It's a truck from the lab," Clint pointed from the cockpit. "It's heading west. You see it?"

Evelyn looked out the window and spotted it. "Yeah—loop by the bridge, Steve. Right underneath you."

"It's them," Clint said as the Quinjet scanned the truck. "You got three with the Cradle, one in the cab. I could take out the driver."

"Negative. That truck crashes, the gem could level the city," Steve told them. "We need to draw out Ultron."

They all watched the road below as Steve darted across the overpass. The truck barreled beneath him, and without hesitation, he leapt—arms wide, shield ready—landing hard on the roof with a metallic thud.

Immediately, Ultron's sentries reacted. Three drones lunged at him, their glowing eyes trained on the star-spangled intruder. Steve didn't hesitate. He ducked under the first swipe, used his shield to slam the second straight against the truck's roof, and then spun to kick the third off the side.

"Well, he's definitely unhappy," Steve muttered through the comms, gritting his teeth as he blocked another blow. "I'm gonna try and keep him that way."

"You're not a match for him, Cap," Clint said, eyes flicking between the live scans and the action outside.

Evelyn crossed her arms, watching the fight unfold. "Shh," she hissed. "Don't ruin the man's confidence."

"Thanks, Barton," Steve quipped dryly, barely ducking a punch that cracked the metal beneath him.

Natasha, perched beside Evelyn, glanced sideways. "So," she drawled, tilting her head slightly, "have you and Rogers gone ice skating?"

Evelyn blinked, caught off guard by the sudden subject change, then laughed. "Once. That was enough."

Natasha's smirk curled. "That bad?"

"Oh, it was a catastrophe. You'd think super-soldier reflexes would be a plus, right?"

"And yet?"

"He wiped out before we even made it to the rink," Evelyn said, grinning at the memory. "I'm talking full cartoon fall. Arms flailing. Took out an ice cream stand in the process."

Clint let out a low whistle. "That's beautiful."

Natasha chuckled. "Man's a tactical genius, can throw a shield with sniper accuracy—but slap some blades on his feet and he becomes Bambi on ice."

Steve's voice cut in from the comms, half-defensive, half resigned: "You do know I can hear all of this, right?"

Evelyn smiled. "I love you!"

A beat passed.

"You're lucky I love you back," Steve replied, exasperated but soft.

Natasha let out a mock groan and shook her head. "Gross. Adorable. But gross." She glanced at Evelyn again, tone light but unmistakably direct. "I'm your Maid of Honour, by the way."

Evelyn shifted in her seat, suddenly a little sheepish. "Funny you say that..."

Natasha slowly turned, eyes narrowing like a predator zeroing in on prey. "If you say Eliza is, I swear on my favourite knife I will leak every safehouse you've ever stayed in."

Evelyn threw her hands up. "Relax! Of course, it's you. Who else am I trusting to hide a flask in their thigh holster and tackle any paparazzi hiding out during the wedding?"

Natasha broke into a rare, genuine smile. "Damn right."

She pulled Evelyn into a quick, fierce hug—tight and full of love—before letting go like it hadn't happened.

A crash echoed faintly through the comms, followed by Steve's strained voice. "Not to kill the moment, but I'm getting thrown around like a ragdoll down here."

Clint leaned toward his monitor, voice amused. "Maybe if you weren't too busy thinking about Eve in a wedding dress, you'd focus."

Natasha didn't miss a beat. "Please. The guy's been head over heels since the second he laid eyes on her. Don't pretend it's new."

Evelyn snorted. "I mean... I'm not gonna lie. I am kind of amazing."

"True," Natasha, Clint and Steve chorused, making Evelyn blush with a smile on her face.

"You're all ridiculous."

Clint grinned. "Don't get soft on us, Gemini."

"I'll cry all over your quiver, Hawkeye. Don't test me," she warned with a teasing smile.

Natasha smirked. "Don't worry, you picked the right Maid of Honour. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," Evelyn said, and the Quinjet filled with laughter and static, a moment of light despite the chaos outside.

The chatter inside the Quinjet had quieted. They might've been running on adrenaline, exhaustion, and probably half a pot of Clint's awful coffee—but even so, when it came to it, they worked like a machine. A sharp, sarcastic, ridiculously good-looking machine.

Steve's shield was thrown onto the road, and Evelyn let out a dramatic groan and dropped her head back. "Again, Steve?"

From the comms, Steve's voice came in, breathless but cheeky. "Sorry, honey."

Clint glanced back from the cockpit, one brow raised. "We dropping in, or waiting for Cap to lose something else?"

Evelyn was already heading toward the bike. "Let's go. Before someone grabs that shield and lists it on eBay."

Natasha jumped onto the motorbike. "Time to give the old man a little backup."

As Natasha kicked the bike into gear, Evelyn climbed on behind her, wrapping an arm around Natasha's waist.

"Don't squeeze too hard," Natasha warned over her shoulder. "I'd like my ribs to remain intact."

"No promises," Evelyn muttered, her grin hidden by the wind leaking through the opening ramp.

"Alright," Clint called. "We've got a window. Four, three... Give 'em hell."

With a violent rush of air, the Quinjet's ramp dropped and so did they. The motorbike hit the highway with a roar, tires screeching as Natasha expertly swerved between traffic cones, honking cars, and one unfortunate taxi that definitely wasn't expecting a stealth motorbike drop mid drive.

"I swear, this better be street legal!" Evelyn called out over the engine's roar.

Natasha let out a cool, amused chuckle. "It doesn't even have a license plate."

"Perfect. Maybe the police will accept 'saving the world' as a valid excuse!"

"They're welcome to chase us—if they survive a killer AI."

Evelyn's eyes flicked ahead, narrowing as she spotted Steve's shield in the middle of the highway. "Shield in sight. Now, why is it always us picking up after these boys?" She muttered to Natasha.

Natasha didn't miss a beat. "Because no one else is reckless or dumb enough to try."

As they tore past, Evelyn leaned out, plucked the shield off the asphalt, and slung it over her back like it was second nature.

"They're heading under the overpass. I've got no shot," Clint informed them.

"Which way?"

"Hard right... Now."

Without hesitation, Natasha cranked the handlebars and cut across traffic. Horns blared. People shouted. Evelyn barely had time to process the flash of a hotdog stand before they blew past it, ducking into a narrow side street with just inches to spare on either side.

"Hope that cart had insurance," Evelyn mumbled as they tore through a market alley, pedestrians diving out of the way. She could hear the panic in their wake—screams, crashing stalls, distant sirens.

They burst from the alley just as Ultron's truck came into view, speeding down a main road. Evelyn spotted Steve wrestling one of the drones on top of the truck, fists flying, his body moving like he didn't feel fear anymore, just purpose.

Natasha revved the bike and caught up to the truck, driving beside it. Evelyn twisted in her seat, grabbed the shield off her back, and launched it upward with practised precision.

"Steve!" she called.

The shield shot up, slicing the air like a frisbee from hell. Steve caught it one-handed and swung it directly into Ultron's face without pausing, sending the robot staggering back.

Ultron lifted his arm and fired, the repulsor blast slamming into the road before them. The asphalt cracked and buckled, exploding upward in a rain of rubble.

"Hold on!" Natasha barked, yanking the brakes. As the bike screeched to a halt, Evelyn used the momentum to launch herself onto the truck with the force of a cannonball, landing in a crouch position, steady and ready.

Ultron turned to her, eyes burning with eerie light. "Ah, Evelyn. Tell me, how many more must fall before you see it? You were always meant to stand with me."

Evelyn hummed. "You couldn't afford me." Without hesitation, she raised both hands and froze Ultron's legs to the truck. Before he could break free, Evelyn surged forward. She grabbed his arm, muscles tensing, and flipped the massive android clean over her shoulder with a sharp twist and a burst of momentum. Ultron crashed onto the roof with a metallic thud, the truck's reinforced frame denting beneath him.

Steve vaulted from the overpass onto the truck, landing with practised precision. He raised his shield just in time to block Ultron's punch.

Overhead, the Quinjet swept into view. From the front, two guns appeared and blasted at the truck's back end, blowing it open and scattering debris. A swarm of Ultron's sentries erupted into the sky, instantly diving toward the Quinjet.

Evelyn didn't let the chaos slow her down. She turned and delivered a fierce spinning kick to Ultron's side. The force knocked him off balance and sent him flying into a support pillar on the side of the overpass, sparks flying as his body smashed through concrete.

He barely paused before recovering, rising with mechanical rage. He charged toward them again, rage distorting his eyes.

Steve stepped in his path, planting his feet and catching Ultron by the shoulder. With a grunt of effort, he spun the machine around and heaved him off the truck, straight into the side of an oncoming train.

Evelyn didn't waste a second. She sprinted to the edge of the truck, her eyes locked on the train speeding past. With a powerful leap, she launched herself into the air. She landed hard on the roof of the train, skidding briefly on the metal surface before finding her footing.

Without hesitation, she dropped into a crouch, then slid smoothly through a jagged, shattered window into the nearest carriage

Steve picked up his shield and threw it at Ultron. The people behind them squealed, and Evelyn turned around to them.

"Go into the next carriage and shut the doors. It's not safe here," Evelyn instructed firmly in Korean, her voice cutting through the chaos as she motioned urgently toward the next carriage.

The terrified passengers didn't hesitate. Wide-eyed and trembling, they scrambled over each other to get through the door. The last man slid it shut, and Evelyn heard the lock click just as she turned back around.

A split-second too late.

Ultron lunged forward and grabbed Steve mid-charge, lifting him effortlessly and hurling him like a ragdoll across the carriage. Steve's body slammed into a row of seats, crushing the metal frames beneath him.

Before Evelyn could react, Ultron's cold vibranium fingers closed around her throat. He hoisted her off the ground, her boots kicking against the air as she tried to pull apart his hand.

"You belong in the new world, Evelyn," Ultron said, his voice metallic and smooth. "You could reshape it with me. Create something better."

Her eyes narrowed, throat tightening. But her voice, raspy, defiant, still found its way out. "Tempting," she choked. "But I'm a little busy."

She planted both hands on his wrist, summoned her strength, and twisted sharply with a cry. Frost burst from her palms. With a high-pitched screech and a spray of sparks, Ultron's arm tore from its socket. It tumbled backward down the aisle, clanging loudly against the walls.

The moment he staggered, Pietro shot into the carriage like a silver blur. He collided with Ultron in a blink, sending the robot reeling into the seats. Wanda wasn't far behind. Red magic shot out of her hands, and she raised a telekinetic barrier between them.

Ultron straightened slowly. "Don't do this."

Wanda's jaw clenched. Her voice was quiet but firm. "What choice do we have?"

He didn't answer—only turned and fired a blast toward Pietro. The speedster vanished in a streak of light just in time, the energy beam veering off and striking the front of the train. The conductor cried out—then slumped forward, smoke curling from the control panel. Sparks flew from the dashboard, warning alarms flashing red.

Ultron flew off into the sky and disappeared.

"We lost him!" Evelyn yelled, already moving. She and Steve sprinted toward the front carriage, weaving around debris and unconscious passengers. "Clint! He's headed your way—look alive!"

Evelyn's fingers quickly pressed to the conductor's neck. Nothing.

"Dammit," she breathed. She looked out the shattered front window, and her stomach dropped. The train was still accelerating, roaring straight toward the edge of town. The barrier ahead wasn't going to stop a multi-ton engine.

"We've got a runaway train," she muttered. "And no brakes."

Her pulse thundered as the actual weight of the moment hit. If they didn't stop this thing, dozens—maybe hundreds—of people could die.

"Can you two see Nat?" Clint asked, voice tight over the comms.

"If you have the package, get it to Stark. Go!" Steve snapped, urgency edging into his voice.

Clint hesitated. "Do you have eyes on Nat?"

"Go!" Steve barked again, leaving no room for argument.

Evelyn scanned the wreckage as sirens wailed and sparks snapped in the air around her. Her heart pounded. "Fucking Ultron," she muttered under her breath, scanning for a solution. Her mind raced, connecting a dozen ideas at once and discarding most of them just as quickly. Nothing would stop this train in time. Nothing except—

"Civilians in our path," Steve ordered. Pietro was gone in an instant, speeding toward the danger.

Evelyn clenched her fists and groaned, muttering, "This is gonna be a real bitch on my back." She stepped back from the controls, squaring her shoulders. "I've got this," she said quietly. "I hope."

She inhaled sharply, calling every last bit of energy to her core. Then she sprinted down the aisle of the front carriage. Her boots thudded heavily against the trembling floor, then she leapt through the shattered front window in a blur of motion.

She hit the ground hard, rolling, sliding, and then she planted herself, one foot in front of the other, arms thrown out like a dam against a tidal wave.

The train slammed into her palms like a battering ram.

Evelyn let out a scream as the force crashed through her body, but she didn't move. Ice burst from her hands, racing in jagged streaks beneath her boots and along the tracks, snaking backward toward the wheels. It froze the steel, groaning and creaking as metal ground against frost.

But it wasn't enough.

The train bucked and shuddered, her boots skidding backward despite her braced position. The scream of steel was deafening. Her knees nearly buckled.

Then red energy swirled past her in a blur. Wanda.

Scarlet tendrils of chaos magic wrapped around the wheels, gripping them and slowing the forward momentum with brute force and will. Evelyn could feel the train fighting back, but together, the ice and magic began to win.

Meter by meter, the train slowed. The shriek of brakes screamed through the air, a storm of sparks shooting out from under the carriages. The entire structure shuddered, ice cracking and groaning under the pressure.

And then... it stopped.

The front wheels crunched to a halt, mere feet from the first sidewalk and a terrified group of civilians. Silence followed, broken only by the hissing of steam and Evelyn's ragged breathing.

She collapsed fully, hands resting on the cold pavement, forehead pressed to the ice-slicked ground.

Footsteps thundered towards her—Steve. He skidded to a stop and crouched beside her, eyes full of concern and disbelief.

"You're insane," he muttered, chest heaving. "Absolutely insane."

"I've heard that before," she said between gasps, her voice hoarse. "Usually from you."

He offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her upright in one strong motion. She stumbled into him, legs jelly.

"Turn around," she mumbled.

He blinked. "What?"

"Piggyback. I earned it."

Steve exhaled through a half-laugh, half-sigh, but turned around without protest. Evelyn slipped the shield from his back, slung it over her own, and then leapt onto his back. Her arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, legs locking around his waist.

His hands found her thighs instinctively, steadying her. She rested her chin on his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed.

"I hate trains," she whispered.

Steve smiled faintly as he started walking. Together, they made their way toward the twins, weaving through the frozen wreckage of the halted train. Smoke still curled from the engine. Pietro stood a few feet ahead, bent over, hands on his knees, chest heaving.

"I need a minute," he gasped.

"I'm very tempted not to give you one," Steve replied dryly as he trudged beside them. Evelyn gave a tired sigh.

"You're such a menace," she mumbled, her voice muffled against the fabric of his uniform.

Steve adjusted his grip on her legs and squeezed her thigh, causing Evelyn to smile.

Wanda approached next, her eyes rimmed with fatigue, but her stance steady. "The cradle," she asked quietly. "Did you get it?"

"Yup," Evelyn murmured, eyes still shut. "Would've gift-wrapped it if I wasn't, y'know... in pain."

"Stark's taking care of it," Steve added, gaze flicking to her with reassurance.

But Wanda shook her head almost instantly, something grim settling into her expression. "No. He won't."

Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"

Evelyn raised her head slightly, enough to look at Wanda directly. "I've read your files. I know one of Stark's bombs... it destroyed your home. Killed your parents. It makes sense to be angry—"

Wanda cut her off softly but firmly. "It's not just about anger. He will do anything to make things right."

Steve's jaw clenched, then he lifted a hand to his earpiece. "Stark, come in. Jones? Anyone?" Static.

"Ultron can't tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it. Where do you think he gets that?" Wanda asked.

Steve stared at her, the line between understanding and denial flickering across his face.

Evelyn sighed. "Guess we'll be having another fun family meeting."

Steve didn't say a word. But the tension in his shoulders, the furrow in his brow, and the silence that followed said more than words ever could.

"Что мать засранец."

AUTHORS NOTE
Don't mind the Google Translate at the end there💀
I would love to see what all of your translations of that text says HA
Please like and comment
Love Pheebs/-rosepetal