The concrete floor trembled under my feet as I swiftly made my way down the last, unsearched hallway, kicking doors in as I went. Of course my brother would be held in the last place we looked.

The Cap was behind me, throwing people around like ragdolls as I searched for my brother.

“Ma’am. Please. We have to hurry.”

I wheeled to face my “partner” and glared at him. As much as I hated to admit it, he had been quite useful on this mission. That damn shield came in handy.

“How many times do I have to tell you?! My name is Amanda Barton! Not ma’am, not miss. AMANDA!”

Done with my rant, I turned and kicked in the last door in front of me.

My brother was strapped to a chair in the middle of the dim room, his hands chained behind his back, and his chin resting on his chest. He was battered and covered in blood, but looked up when we rushed in and smiled.

“Am, bout damn time you got here!” He joked halfheartedly before coughing and spitting up some blood in the process.

“You alright, Clint?” I demanded, kneeling in front of him and examining his beaten face as the Cap set to work on freeing him.

“Yeah. Couple of busted ribs and broken fingers. Nothing major.”

His voice was rough from dehydration and his face was swollen in some places. He had taken one hell of a beating.

“They got you good huh?” I chuckled, hoisting him up out of the chair and balancing him between myself and the Captain as we began our journey back to the roof of the building.

“Damn, Am. You don’t take any prisoners, huh?” Clint commented quietly as we skirted around the bodies of the Russians I had taken out along the way.

“The less witnesses the better.” I shrugged.

I quickly turned when I heard footsteps behind us. We were one floor away from the roof.

“Hurry up. There’s people behind us.” I commanded.

We began jogging but with Clint between us, we were still moving torturously slow and by the time we reached the roof access door, the men behind us were much too close for comfort.

“Go! Get the plane ready!” I ordered the Cap, shrugging out from under my brother’s weight and turning to face our attackers as they began firing their guns in our direction.

I pulled two .9 Glocks from my hips and five of the seven men fell within seconds. But as the plane engines fired up from behind me, the last two of our attackers both rolled and hid behind elevated air vents. My bullets ricochet off the metal vents in vain and I heard shouting behind me.

I ignored the sound of my brother yelling at me to get in the plane and continued aiming for a clear shot at the last two men.

“Amanda! Get in this plane, NOW!”

That wasn’t my brother. Forgetting just where I was, I turned to hit the Captain with some snarky comeback. Before the words could even begin to leave my mouth, there were two gunshots and I felt two sharp thuds. One in my abdomen and the other in my left shoulder.

“NO!” My brother and the Cap yelled in unison.

“Oh shit.” I breathed, hissing at the pain talking caused.

I looked down at my stomach in horror and tried to stop the blood with my hand before I became lightheaded and fell to the concrete.

I heard two more gunshots and the sound of two bodies falling to the ground. But everything sounded far away, like I was underwater.

The Cap’s face appeared above me, it was like I was seeing him through fog. He was talking to me but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. His face was the last thing I saw before everything went black.

--Clint’s POV-

I winced as the rough movement of the plane jostled my broken body.

“You sure you know how to fly this thing, man?” I called up to Steve as I knelt next to my sister’s lifeless form.

“I’m figuring it out as I go.” He admitted.

I cursed under my breath and felt for my sister’s pulse. She was still holding in there and the bleeding seemed to be slowing down, which I thought was odd but at that point I was just counting my blessings.

We finally landed on the S.H.I.E.L.D. carrier, roughly I might add, and Steve rushed out yelling for medics. I was in no shape to rush anywhere and waited patiently for the medics to retrieve my sister and I from the plane.

“The Cap said she was shot?” One asked me as they entered the plane with two backboards. “How many times?” He demanded when I nodded the affirmative.

“Twice. Abdomen and left shoulder. But the bleeding has slowed a lot since we left.” I informed him as they picked her up from the bench seat and lowered her to the backboard and strapped her down.

Three of the medics left the plane carrying her and the last turned to me after making sure they got out of the plane without jostling her still frame.

“Can you walk?” He asked.

I nodded and together we left for the sick bay.

Notes

Again, please let me know what you think.