Having returned to my quarters, I stripped down to my undergarments and rewrapped my stitches with fresh gauze and medical tape, then turned my attention to the matter of weaponry. I slipped a second thigh holster onto my right leg and sheathed the pistol that went with it. After attaching several magazines of ammunition to my utility belt, I sharpened the knives I had chosen earlier, then concealed them in my boots. When I stepped out to join the others, I found Natasha already standing on the threshold, her fist poised to knock.

     She smirked, "Good timing. I wanted to give you these."

     When she presented me with a pair of electrically charged batons, my eyes widened.

     "Are these..."

     She nodded, "S.H.I.E.L.D. copied the Red Room's design, so they're authentic. Thought you should have them."

     As I took the weapons and tested their weight in my hands, she added, "Consider it the first step in making up for everything that's happened."

     "Thank you, Nat. Really. It means a lot."

     She smiled, "You're welcome, сестра. Oh, and here's the holster."

     Shrugging into the harness, I slid the batons into their holsters, where they sat between my shoulder blades. As I tied my hair into a braided bun, Natasha's gauntlets suddenly turned blue.

     I gasped, "They gave you the Widow's Bite?"

     "They sure did," she replied.

     Originally created by the Red Room, the Black Widow's Bite was built into the wearer's wrist gauntlets and could discharge rounds of high voltage electricity at their opponent.

     "Fury's been holding out on me," I laughed.

     After closing the door and locking it behind me, Natasha and I made our way to what remained of the hangar after Banner's rampage, where we met with Steve and Clint.

     When we finally found a Quinjet that was still intact, the technician on board protested, "Hey, you guys aren't authorized to be in here."

     "Son, just don't," Steve replied, and the technician quickly made himself scarce.

     I started toward the co-pilot's seat, but Natasha stopped me.

     "You have the con today, сестра. I'll be your wingman."

     My fingers practically twitching with excitement, I grinned and settled into the pilot's seat.

     Glancing over her shoulder, Nat said, "You boys better buckle up. You're in for quite a ride."

     "You do realize this isn't an F-16, right Anya?" Clint asked with a nervous laugh, his knuckles already turning white as he gripped the handles overhead.

     "Doesn't mean she can't dance like one," I replied as I eased the Quinjet out of the hangar.

     With Stark in the lead, we made an unauthorized departure from the Helicarrier – though I doubt anyone would have tried to stop us – and returned to New York. As the Big Apple grew larger on the horizon, Selvig's portal came online and a blue flash of electricity shot through the sky, tearing an ink-black hole in the fabric of the universe. Moments later, Loki's army began their descent from the portal and immediately opened fire, wasting no time in fulfilling the Norse God's promise of worldwide domination.

     As Stark rose to meet the seemingly endless legion of Chitauri, I quietly said, "Hey, Cap?"

     "Yeah?"

     "I'd like to take a moment to apologize for every foul word that comes out of my mouth during the day. Because I probably won't get a chance later."

     Barton chuckled quietly behind me, and I could hear the smile in Steve's voice as he replied, "Apology accepted, Miss Romanoff."

     As I guided the Quinjet toward Stark Tower, Natasha reported, "Tony, we're on your three, headed northwest."

     "What? Did you stop for drive-through?" Stark retorted. "Swing up Park. I'm gonna lay 'em out for you."

     Doing as Tony instructed, I said, "Eagle Eye, I'm gonna need you on the gun."

     "It's Hawkeye, actually."

     "I know."

     Clint just snorted and shook his head as he settled into the gunner's seat and lowered the Gatling gun into place. As we flew through Park Avenue, my eyes widened at the level of destruction the Chitauri had already caused. Cars were either overturned or up in flames, and craters pocked the surface streets as innocent civilians took cover in the nearby buildings. Seconds later, Tony flew across our nose, with several of the Chitauri on his tail.

     Clint opened fire on the aliens – who tore across the sky on highly advanced chariots – and destroyed several of the crafts, along with their riders. Pulling back on the joystick, Natasha and I circled the Quinjet around Stark Tower, with Barton continuing to fire. As we came level with the main landing pad, I spotted Thor tackling his brother and nudged my sister's shoulder.

     "Nat?"

     "I see him."

     Swinging the aircraft around to face Loki, Clint reset the Gatling gun and opened fire. Unaffected by the gunshots, Loki tossed Thor aside and raised his scepter, aiming at the Quinjet. Even as I took evasive action, a blast of energy shot from the scepter and tore apart the left wing. Glancing over my shoulder as the Quinjet tipped onto its side, I saw the portside engine burst into flames and swore under my breath.

     "Shit," I cursed. "Clint, I need your hands!"

     Gripping onto his seat for dear life, he shouted, "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen!"

     As the Quinjet spiraled out of control and I struggled to keep the contents of my stomach where they belonged, Natasha and I attempted to compensate for the damage Loki had caused.

     But that was somewhat difficult to do when you were only running on one engine.

     "Nat, I need you to lower the landing gear!"

     "Kinda busy here!"

     I growled, my arms burning as I fought with the joystick, "Shit!"

     I heard someone grunt behind me, and Steve appeared a moment later, practically falling onto the console.

     "What do you need?"

     I pointed from my controls to Natasha's hands, "Take the joystick. Follow her lead. I need to get the tires down if we want any chance of a smooth landing."

     Clutching at the straps overhead, I pulled myself out of my seat and lowered the landing gear into place, my feet nearly lifting off the ground as I was jostled from side to side. Once the landing gear was secured, I dropped into the pilot's seat and tightened my harness.

     The Quinjet clipped an antenna but thankfully avoided the building it was attached to as I shouted, "Brace, brace, brace!"

     In the shadow of Stark Tower, metal met concrete with an ear-splitting moan and a bone-rattling impact. As the Quinjet created a trench in the sidewalk, Natasha and I pulled back on our respective joysticks to prevent the aircraft from colliding with the skyscraper directly in our path. Even as the jet slowed to a halt, I lowered the ramp and unbuckled my harness, which had left a burning ache in my chest.

     As Steve raised his shield, I drew my batons and activated their electric charge, following close on his heels. With the residents of New York frantically running through the streets in search of shelter, we sprinted toward Grand Central Station, with Stark Tower looming overhead.

     "We got to get back up there," Steve said, but even as the words left his mouth, a deep, mechanical growl emanated from the wormhole.

     The hair on the nape of my neck stood on end as I slowly looked upwards, and my jaw dropped when a labyrinthian creature emerged from the abyss moments later. Armored from head to toe, the creature appeared to serve as a form of transport for the Chitauri. Diving toward the streets below, the creature soared over our heads and deployed several of the Chitauri in its wake.

     As the aliens scaled the surrounding buildings or broke through their windows, Steve asked, "Stark, are you seeing this?"

     "Seeing. Still working on believing. Where's Banner? Has he shown up yet?"

     Steve's brow furrowed, "Banner?"

     "Just keep me posted."

     Flinching as glass shattered and explosions echoed between the buildings, I sprinted onto a nearby bridge, putting distance between myself and the falling debris. I took cover beside a pair of taxis, and the others quickly followed my lead.

     "We've got civilians still trapped down there," Clint said, nodding to the avenue below.

     Suddenly, three of the chariots raced overhead, and I spotted a pair of familiar golden horns.

     "Loki," I growled as the God of Mischief aimed for the innocent people below, leaving a trail of fiery destruction that stretched across several city blocks.

     "They're fish in a barrel down there," Steve said as he peered over the taxi, though he ducked back down when a plasma bolt narrowly missed his face.

     When a squadron of approximately ten Chitauri appeared on the other side of the bridge, Natasha drew her twin handguns and provided cover fire for Barton, who advanced to the next taxi.

     Turning to Steve, she said, "We got this. It's good. Go."

     Looking to Clint, he asked, "Do you think you can hold them off?"

     Barton smiled, "Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure."

     In one fluid motion, Clint selected an arrowhead from his quiver, nocked the arrow, then turned and fired. The arrow lodged itself in the nearest alien's forehead, and once fired, this particular arrowhead released a round of projectiles, which incapacitated the Chitauri closest to their comrade.

     Steve smirked, then said, "Ana, you're on my six."

     Before I could reply, Steve sprang to his feet and vaulted over the concrete railing, just steps ahead of the Chitauri as they fired at the bus he had landed on. Shaking my head in amusement, I followed his lead and hurled myself over the edge, firing the grappling hook that was built into my gauntlet. I swung beneath the bridge for a moment, then rolled across the pavement when my feet hit the ground.

     As explosions rocked the ground and sent asphalt flying into the air, I brought my arms to my head and squinted into the haze, having lost sight of Steve. Racing down the street, I finally emerged from the cloud of black smoke and immediately dove behind the nearest car as the enemy opened fire. Grabbing the alien's rifle, I wrenched the weapon from its hands and slammed the butt of the rifle over its head.

     Raising the weapon, I pulled what I hoped was the trigger and shot down the Chitauri who had come to aid their companion. When I heard something shift behind me, I whipped around and prepared to fire, but quickly lowered the rifle when Steve raised his shield in defense.

     "Sorry about that," I said as I tossed the rifle aside and drew my batons.

     "All good," he replied. "Quick thinking with the rifle."

     "Thanks, I—"

     "Get down!"

     The air shot out of my lungs as he tackled me to the ground, his body shielding mine as bolts of plasma ricocheted around us. At the time, I was unsure of what brought this realization to mind – especially given our current circumstances – but as I laid nose-to-nose with Steve, I noticed how his eyes were like the ocean, whereas mine were like the sky.

     Two powerful forces, though one was far less explored than the other. Like the deepest depths of the sea, I wondered how much anyone actually knew about Steve, aside from the famous façade they had come to love.

     "You okay?" he asked, tearing me from my thoughts.

     "Yeah," I replied, breathless. "Yeah, thanks. You?"

     He nodded, "Sorry if I caught you by surprise."

     "Hey, a few bruises are always better than being dead."

     He snorted, "You don't say?"

     Rolling onto my stomach, I drew one of my 9mm Glocks and peered over his shield to return fire, making quick work of the remaining Chitauri. Slowly pushing to his knees, Steve scanned the perimeter before standing and helping me to my feet.

     "Ready?"

     I smiled and grabbed my batons, "Let's do this."

     Charging into the street, I took the slightly more conventional route as Steve vaulted over the cars to my left. Needing a better vantage point, I used an overturned taxi as a ramp and spotted an NYPD blockade in the distance.

     "Cap, we've got law enforcement about two blocks north. They could help us minimize the number of casualties."

     He nodded, and we zig-zagged through the chaos, making our way to the boys in blue.

     Jumping onto the hood of a patrol car and likely giving the acting sergeant a heart attack, Steve gestured to the buildings on our right and instructed, "You need men in these buildings. There are people inside and they're going to be running right into the line of fire. You take them to the basements or through the subway. You keep them off the streets. We need a perimeter as far back as Thirty-Ninth."

     In true New Yorker form, the sergeant replied, "Why the hell should I take orders from you?"

     An explosion rocked the ground behind us, and Steve raised his shield to deflect enemy fire as a pair of Chitauri appeared on the patrol car beside him. Turning on his heel, Steve slammed his shield into the first alien's face, knocking it off the vehicle. He then fell to his knees and spun around, blocking the plasma shots with his shield before punching the alien in its face.

     As the first invader got back to its feet, Steve slammed his shield into the side of its head, breaking the alien's neck. When the second warrior raised its weapon, Rogers followed my lead and ripped the rifle from its hand, except he took the intruder's arm with it.

     The sergeant stared at Steve for a moment, then relayed Cap's orders to his officers, "I need men in those buildings. Lead the people down and away from the streets. We're going to set up a perimeter all the way down to Thirty-Ninth Street."

     Glancing down at the one-armed Chitauri, I noticed sparks flying from the now-exposed wiring within its arm and turned to Steve, "Look at this."

     As he followed my gaze, I explained, "They're cyborgs. Probably functioning through a hive-mind, which would make it easier to regulate an army this size. Question is, what's controlling them?"

     "Or who," Steve countered.

     "Exactly."

     "We could use your help up here!" Nat suddenly shouted in my ear, causing me to wince.

     "I'm sorry, what? I didn't quite catch that," I replied, and I heard Steve chuckling quietly behind me.

     "Just get your ass up here!"

     "Language," I warned. "Steve's right here."

     I dodged his attempt to smack my arm and started running down the street, laughing as I went.

     As the bridge grew closer in the distance, Steve said, "I've got an idea. Follow my lead."

     Looking like he'd been shot out of a cannon, Steve raced toward the bridge at an inhuman speed only the Super Soldier Serum could allow. When he kneeled at the base of the bridge, his shield raised, I understood his plan and started to run faster. With my batons crackling at my side, I tore across the pavement, my feet barely seeming to touch the ground as I built up momentum.

     Leaping just before I reached the bridge, I landed squarely on the star-spangled shield. Pushing to his feet just as my knees bent to cushion the blow, Steve thrust his shield upwards, sending me flying over the bridge and onto an unfortunate pair of unsuspecting Chitauri. Straddling the duo, I jabbed my batons against the back of their necks before dropping to the ground as they fell and sweeping a third alien off its feet.

     Crossing my weapons together, I trapped the arm of a fourth invader and snapped its wrist with one swift twist. Kicking the intruder, I forced the alien backwards and held my baton against its stomach. The Chitauri convulsed violently as high voltage electricity coursed through its veins, then finally fell limp.

     Crouching behind an abandoned cab beside Clint and my sister, I asked, "You guys okay?"

     Nat nodded, despite the gash on her forehead, "Yeah. Glad you could—"

     Steve came tumbling across the bridge, grimacing as he tested the flexibility of his shoulder.

     I raised my eyebrows, "Are you okay?"

     He gave me a thumbs-up, "Just got tangled up back there."

     "We've got more approaching," Barton said, his arrow already nocked.

     Glancing over the trunk of the taxi, I counted three of the Chitauri with their weapons raised. Thankfully, the intruders found themselves unable to fire, as individual bolts of lightning incinerated them where they stood.

     When Thor landed beside an overturned sedan, visibly injured, Steve asked, "What's the story upstairs?"

     "The power surrounding the cube is impenetrable," the God of Thunder explained.

     "Thor's right," Tony said. "We got to deal with these guys."

     Natasha's brow furrowed, "How do we do this?"

     "As a team," Cap answered.

     "I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor stated.

     "Get in line," Barton and I replied in unison.

     "Save it," Steve interjected, though he smiled begrudgingly in my direction. "Loki's going to keep this fight focused on us, and that's what we need. Without him, these things could run wild."

     "We've got Stark up top," I added. "He's going to need us to..."

     I fell silent as a motorcycle grew louder behind me and turned to find Dr. Banner looking extremely out of place amidst the chaos.

     How ironic.

     "So, this all seems horrible," he hesitantly said after a moment.

     "We've seen worse," I countered.

     Banner winced and glanced nervously in my direction, "Sorry."

     "No, we could use a little worse," Nat clarified, and I offered a small smile of agreement.

     "Stark, we got him," Steve said to Tony. "Just like you said."

     "Then tell him to suit up," Stark replied. "I'm bringing the party to you."

     At the opposite end of the street, Tony came careening around the corner. On his tail was the enormous creature that served as the Chitauri's main transport.

     "I don't see how that's a party," Natasha muttered.

     Keeping close to the street, Tony just managed to stay ahead of the creature as it pulverized the entire block, destroying every tree and discarded vehicle in its path.

     When Bruce stepped into the leviathan's path, Steve said, "Dr. Banner...Now might be a really good time for you to get angry."

     As the beast continued plowing down the street, Bruce smirked and replied, "That's my secret, Captain. I'm always angry."

     Effortlessly transitioning into his larger self, Banner brought his mighty fist down upon the leviathan's forehead, bringing the creature to a grinding halt. Unfortunately, the sudden stop caused the beast to flip end-over-end. And we were right in its path.

     As I quickly scanned for an escape route, Tony shouted, "Hold on!"

     Flying overhead, Tony located a chink in the leviathan's armor and launched one of the rockets from his vambrace. I closed my eyes and covered my head as the charge detonated, only to glance over my shoulder and find Steve standing next to me with his shield raised.

     "Thanks. Again."

     He smiled, "Don't mention it."

     Natasha looked between the two of us as the leviathan collapsed, and a smile slowly crept across her face.

     I wrinkled my nose, "What's with you?"

     She pulled me aside and whispered, "Only that, when you're around, everyone else is invisible to him."

     My head tilted to the side, "Invisible to who? To Steve?"

     She simply shrugged in response, prompting me to say, "We're just friends, Nat. That's all."

     "Then why does he always stare when he thinks you're not looking?" Nat retorted under her breath. "Respectfully, of course, this is Cap we're talking about."

     When I rolled my eyes, she whispered, "See for yourself, if you think I'm lying."

     I held my sister's gaze for a moment, then sighed and reluctantly looked over my shoulder. Sure enough, Steve's eyes darted to the ground, and my heart seemed to somersault in my chest.

     I whipped around to face my sister with wide eyes and made one last, feeble attempt at denial, "Well, of course he's looking over here. Anyone would stare if two people were whispering behind their back!"

     "Hey, no need to panic. It's just something I thought you should know."

     "Well, I didn't. Not now. Nat, this is the worst possible time—"

     An ear-shattering screech filled the air as the Chitauri who had been aboard the leviathan emerged from the wreckage of their organic transport. As the invaders scurried down the nearby high-rises, we quickly realized we were now surrounded. With our backs turned to one another, we formed a tight circle and raised our weapons, preparing for the fight to come. Standing between Steve and my sister, I glanced over my shoulder and smiled. You see, Loki had made one critical error when he murdered Phil Coulson:

     He underestimated us.

     And now, in spite of his army, in spite of the destruction he had wrought against our city, and despite his best efforts to tear us apart, we had risen to the challenge and stood our ground.

     The Avengers have come to play, Loki, I thought.

     And you're going to lose.