Leave Me Broken [Winter Soldier] II

Sacrifice [Chapter 20]

"I guess that's just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up."

-Lauren Oliver's "Delirium"

           There was a placid moment before it all started; the calm before the storm that always seemed ominous, never truly feeling like a moment to catch ones breath. With people on either side, many of them with conflicting partnerships on the opposing side, there was a clear moment where everyone knew this was not going to end here and now. The fight was about to come, the odds evened out a bit more now that each side had an almost equal number of people. Even if it had only been one on one, the horrid feeling of fighting against someone you should be fighting beside made everyone uncomfortable. 

         In her mind, Ophelia focused on Tony Stark; he refused to listen, refused to believe that Bucky could possibly be a good person. She focused on him, wishing that she had made him suffer when she had been in his head, but also not wanting to stoop to a level that would match that of HYDRA.

          It was not a fair fight but she had to fight fair against these people.

          "What do we do?" Sam asked loud enough for everyone on their side to hear.

          "We fight," Steve confirmed.

           Steve began to walk, and so did everyone else. On the opposing side, they too came closer, each foot fall echoing through the concrete like an earthquake built up of despair. The pace was picked up by one side, matched by the other. Raised, matched. Over and over again until everyone was either running as fast as they could, or flying through the air. A phenomenal crash boomed through the entire airport- though there was no one close enough to hear it- as everyone met with someone else to punch, kick, shock, stun, brought to their knees. It was a senseless fight, but one that needed to be fought. Ophelia found herself face to face with Natasha, and the redhead studied the gear that Ophelia was wearing.

            "So you're going to fight me with my own gear?" Natasha began with a raised eyebrow, bringing her hands up to protect her face in case Ophelia made a move. 

           Ophelia brought her own hands up, not bothering to retort against a woman that she respected, but had to fight in hand to hand combat. She crouched down and swept her leg out to trip Natasha, but the redhead jumped out of the way and brought her foot down to kick Ophelia back. Ophelia rolled backwards, her hands landing on the concrete to protect her head, and her back rolling over the concrete. She landed in a crouched position with her hands in front of her, and she pushed herself off from the ground. With the power behind her, she came at Natasha, fists landing blows upon Natasha's blocks. With each hit she landed, Natasha would give one back, and the two of them danced as if it had been practiced to perfection.

            "Ophelia, get down!" Clint yelled and Ophelia dropped into a plank position and rolled away from Natasha's stomp that was coming down.

            Natasha yelped as she had to duck away from an arrow, tumbling forward gracefully and avoiding the arrow that would have stunned her for a few minutes. She sent out a jolt of electricity back at Clint, both Clint and Ophelia had to jump out of the way of the blast.

            With a growl, Ophelia locked onto Natasha's mind and began to dig through her memories; she would never not be surprised with some of the things she found inside the Avenger's heads. There was so much remorse and guilt, the struggle to remain the good guy that appeared in front of the world, the public image. There was so much stress to remain that person, particularly in Natasha's head, Ophelia found, because of her violent past.