❨ 𝑽𝑰𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑶                . . .                   𝑏𝘰𝘰𝑘 𝑖𝑖 ❩
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
━━━ 𝙱. 𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚂 / ❛ i will 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡,
𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡 of 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 ❜

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘༄⋅°
𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄,                           𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴 !

"DID SHE TELL you to stay out of it?" Sam asks Steve. They were sitting at the coffee shop in the hotel, Diana nowhere to be seen. "Might have a point." 

"He'd do it for me," the waitress places a coffee mug in front of Steve, who silently thanks her.

"1945, maybe. I just want to make sure we considered all our options. The people that shoot at you, usually wind up shooting at me," Sam says.

Sharon walks in quietly beside Steve, staring straight ahead of her, a blank expression and sunglasses on. "Tips have been pouring in since the footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of it is noise, except for this. My boss expects a briefing and he pretty much knows, so... that's all the answer you're going to get."

She slides a manilla folder to Steve. He looks at it, "thank you."

"And you're going to have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight." She turns around and exits the building, Steve flipping through the folder.

DIANA WAS GOING to catch the earliest flight to New York; back to the Avengers Compound. She longed for the familiar dull, grey walls that surrounded her, the debates on who was the better Avenger, the best fighter. They argued about these things, but they always came to the same conclusion--Diana. She has the most experience, the most training, the most years of being on this Earth. She has fought and killed a god; they haven't, not even Thor.

She paced through the white room, collecting her things as she collected her thoughts. Bucky? Is Bucky being the one to blow up the United Nations in Vienna? Unlikely.

She closes her black suitcase and sits on the bed. She had taken off her funeral attire a while ago; she sat in her comfortable sweatpants and shirt, fuzzy socks placed on her feet.

The TV was blank. The room was filled with the sounds of soft 40's music--the music you would hear in a ball, slowly dancing along with your partner as you danced in a circle, them whispering softly in your ear the lyrics.

Diana muttered the words to the song. Her dark, chocolatey brown eyes swimming with tears as she thought of her and Steve Trevor slow-dancing to this song. Diana in a white dress, Steve in a suit, family, and friends surrounding them as they danced in their wedding. Diana's belly swollen many months later as they prepared to bring life into the world. The child, 5 years old, being taught how to fight by Diana and how to dance by Steve. The child's name shall be Antiope, given to her after her grandaunt. Antiope, now ten, running off with friends. Diana and Steve with slight wrinkles as they waved to the small child. She thought of how their life could've been--the life of a civilian.

She hurriedly wipes the tears away with the backs of her hands. You shall either fight with spears or tears. You choose. She heard Antiope's words of wisdom ring through her head, squaring her shoulders and holding her head up high. Diana was only young then, the young age of 6, when Diana was first taught to fight and got hit for the first time.

Diana memorized those words, using them whenever she felt like crying. She had Antiope's harsh voice memorized. She remembered Antiope's look of disapproval. She remembered the way her cheek and heart ached, different kinds of pain. The heart always hurts worse than physical pain.

Diana looks at the clock on the mantle of the TV. 5:00. Her flight left in an hour.

DIANA LANDED AT JFK Aiport in the wee hours of the morning, eyes drooping as she flagged a cab. The gentleman helped her with her bags, holding the door open as she climbed in. He saw she was tired, never spoke through the ride. Diana had given him the address, leaning her head on the window. He drove silently, playing soft music on the speakers. Diana fell asleep to the soft rocking of the car.

"MA'AM?" HE SHOOK Diana softly as he looked down at her peaceful face. This was the only time Diana was at peace. She woke up gradually, "huh?"

"We're here, ma'am," the driver, whose name was Josh, tells her. "Thank you," Diana hands him the money required, stretching her limbs, climbing out. She grabbed her bags and rolled them into the compound, using the elevator to go to her room. Her foot pats. Her leg jiggles. She is impatient, wanting to go into her room, brush her teeth and wash her face, and sink into the welcoming warmth of her bed.

DIANA WAKES UP to light streaming in through the sapphire-blue curtained windows, the light filtering through turning her wall a light blue-grey. Diana's hair was still in its braid, the soft tendrils of small hair framing her sun-kissed face. "A pinch of paprika," Vision's voice pours in from the kitchen, "a pinch." A smell wafts in through the open door; something of soup and spices. "Is that paprikash?" Wanda says as she enters the room, Diana soon following close behind.

"I thought it might..." Vision searches for the right words. "Lift your spirits."

Wanda takes a sip of the red stew. She hums, closing her eyes. "Spirits lifted." She nods. Diana sits in one of the chairs on the island, her hands clasped in front of her. "In my defence, I haven't actually... eaten anything before, so..." Vision raises a hand with his fingertips pressed together to his mouth.

"Aye, aye, please," Wanda stirs the contents of the pot.

"Wanda?" Vision asks.

She hums in response, the only response Vision needs in order to start. "Nobody dislikes you." 

"Thanks," Wanda scoffs. 

"Oh, you're welcome. No. It's a... involuntary response in their amygdala they can't help but be afraid of you," Vision explains. Diana watches the scene unfold, standing as she prepares if a fight breaks out. "Are you?" Wanda raises an eyebrow as she goes back to the paprikash.

"My amygdala is synthetic, so..." Vision speaks.

"I used to think of myself one way. But, after this," Wanda plays with her powers as it weaves between her fingers, "I am something else. And still me, I think. But... that's not what everyone else sees."

"Do you know, I don't know what this is?" Vision points to the infinity stone placed on his head. "Not really. I know it's not of this world. But it powered Loki's staff, gave you your abilities. But... its true nature is a mystery. And yet, it is part of me." 

"Are you afraid of it?" They speak as if Diana wasn't there, who slinks back into her seat. "I wish to understand it," Vision says, "the more I understand it, the more I control it, and the less it controls me."

"I don't know what's in this but it is not paprika," Wanda shakes her head, pointing to the pot. "I'm gonna go to the store, I'll be back in 20 minutes."

"Alternatively we could order a pizza?" Vision appears in front of Wanda, holding his arm out to stop her.

"Vision, are you not letting me leave?"

"It is a question of safety," Vision answers, a slight quiver in his voice. "I can protect myself," Wanda moves to go out. "Not yours. Mr Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident. Until the Accords are a... more secured foundation," Vision replies.

"Let her go, Vision," Diana moves over to the left of Vision, giving him her best glare. "Mr Stark will like you to stay here, too." Vision spreads his arm out towards Diana.

"Let us go, Vision," Diana warns.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. Not until the Accords are over." Diana draws in a deep breath, setting her jaw, and walking out of Vision's way to her room.

IT'S BEEN THREE days, three boring days since Vision locked them down in the compound for their "safety". Diana absentmindedly played with the strands of her hair as she watched a movie in the living room, plotting an escape; But she couldn't as Vision had set FRIDAY to inform him every time she has tried to make a run for it. There was a loud crash outside in the moonlight, startling Diana from her stupor. She, Vision, and Wanda walked to the window, seeing a large fire roaring outside.

"What is it?" Wanda asks as the firelight illuminated their faces. Diana immediately thought of one person: Clint. Perhaps Vision thought the same as he just replied, "Wait here."

He disappears through the wall, flying to the crash site.

"Guess I should have knocked?" Clint's voice is heard from them. Wanda uses her telekinesis to make a knife fly towards his head, stopping it when she gets a good look. Clint simply moves it to the side. "What are you doing here?" Diana asks, walking towards him. He walks to where Wanda stands, shooting arrows onto the wall and island. "Disappointing my kids. I'm supposed to go water skiing. Cap needs our help, come on."

"Clint!" Vision reappears. "You should not be here."

"Really? I retired for, what, like 5 minutes? And it all goes to shit," Clint retorts. "You should really consider the consequences of your actions." Vision floats closer, and Diana notices the tips of the arrows are spread open in three prongs.

"Okay, they're considered," Vision walks into the line of the arrows, electrical shocks freezing Vision in place. "We gotta go." Diana and Clint start to run, but Wanda stays in place. "I've caused enough problems," she plays with the hem of her sweater.

Diana notes how she seems as if she's crumbling into herself, weak. Clint rushes back to her. "You got to help me, Wanda. You can go to high school. You want to make amends. You get off your ass."

Vision uses the infinity stone to blast the arrow, going up to Clint, who grabs a baton from his back. He swings it at Vision, who simply makes himself air. He swings again, this time Vision is solid. The baton breaks and Clint repeatedly punches Vision. Vision throws Clint down.

"Shit. I know I should have stretched," Clint grunts as he gets up.

"You cannot overpower me, Clint."

"I can't but she can," Clint nods to Wanda. Vision turns, sees Wanda playing with her powers as the red glow grows into a ball. 

"Vision. That's enough, let him go. I'm leaving." 

"I can't let you," he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry," she spreads her hands, the ball growing larger. Vision slowly drops to his knees, "If you leave, they won't stop being afraid of you."

"I can't control their fear, only my own."

She forces the ball to him, pushing him through layers upon layers of ground and dirt. She stops when she thinks it's good enough.

"Oh," Clint breathes. "Come on, we have another stop."

They all run out, the pounding of feet carrying along with them. Diana and Wanda packed their gear, rushing to get to the car.

THEY ARRIVE IN Germany the next day, tugging along another passenger with them. Clint had Diana punch him until he passed out, placing him in the backseat of the van. They were currently waiting in the van in an airport parking garage, patiently waiting for Steve, Sam and said "Bucky". Diana played with her bottom lip, Scott's dark head on her lap, asleep. Diana looks out the window, spotting a small 50's blue buggy park next to them. She saw Steve through the window; she snickers as she shakes her head.

"Cap," Clint shakes Steve's hand, smiling at Bucky and Sam.

"You know I wouldn't have called if I had any other choice," Steve took note of Diana in the car, giving her a small wave in which she returns.

"Hey man, you're doing me a favour. Besides... I'm on your team. Thanks for having my back," Clint claps Steve on the shoulder. Steve looks at Wanda. 

"It was time to get off my ass," she shrugged.

"About our other recruit?" Steve asks.

"He's ready to go. I have to put a little coffee in him, but... he should be good," when Clint opens the door with a loud bang, Scott jerks awake. He stumbles out of the van, giving Diana a small 'sorry'.

"What time zone is this?" He furrows his eyebrows.

"Come on. Come on," Clint waves his hand in a 'hurry up' manner.

"Captain America," Scott's eyes widen at Steve's presence, like a kid in a candy store.

"Mr Lang," Steve holds his hand out for Scott, who shakes it while ranting.

"It's an honour. I'm shaking your hand too long. Wow. This is awesome. Captain America," Scott removes his hand from Steve's, turning to see Wanda. "I know you too, you're great. Jeez. Look, I wanted to say. I know you know a lot of super people, so... Thanks for thinking of me. Hey, man."

He slightly salutes to Sam, Diana climbing out of the car. "What's up tic-tac?"

Diana walks up to Sam, gives him a hug, who returns it. "How are you guys?" 

"You left us," Sam says it like he's accusing her, but he smiles at the end. "No, no we're good. We're good." He grabs his fist with one hand, lighthearted.

"Good to see you. Look. What happened last time was a--"

"It was a good audition, but it'll never happen again," Sam interrupts. He shakes his head, pursing his lips slightly. "Alright." Scott nods.

"What did he tell about what we're up against?" Steve asks Scott.

"That we're going up against psycho-assassins?" It comes out more of a question than an answer, unsure.

"We're outside the law on this one. So, if you come with us, you're a wanted man," Steve warns Scott. Scott just shrugs. "What else is new?" Diana walks over to Bucky, extending her hand. "Diana. Diana Prince," her exotic accent was one he never heard before and mixed with her kindness, it took him back. "Bucky. Bucky Barnes." He shakes her hand with his flesh one, not wanting to break her.

The PA system comes on, German words pouring out. Diana recognizes what they're saying. "We have to go," she informs them. "We have a chopper lining up," Steve says. "They're evacuating the airport," Bucky replies, staring at Diana.

She holds herself gracefully, but also tensely, as if ready for a fight; her dark eyes narrowed slightly and looking around for any sign of attack; her sun-kissed skin glimmering in the sunlight; her dark hair pulled into a simple twist at the nape of her neck; her pink-full lips pursed; her jaw tensed. She looked ready to fight.

She looked ready to attack.