✨writing about art and life ✨
Bucky wasn’t exactly familiar with Hell’s Kitchen. He hadn’t had much reason to cross over to Manhattan before the war and his mother had been especially terrified of the Kitchen. However, he was pretty sure it normally didn’t look this shitty. Maybe.
“Maybe if you superhero types weren’t always airing out your dirty laundry in my neighborhood, we’d get a chance to fix it up a bit,” Jessica griped as a missile flew over her head. She retaliated by throwing a car door at the wannabe super-villain who’s name Bucky had already forgotten.
“Aren’t you technically a superhero type?” Sam jumped up and hovered as he deftly took out a handful of disk-shaped drones.
“Ha, not on your life. ‘Wrong place, wrong time’ is just my middle name,” Jessica peered over the edge of her cover. “Jesus, you’d think military-grade weapons would be a little harder to get ahold of than this.”
“Yeah, well. Shit happens.” Bullets scratched over Bucky’s metal arm harmlessly.
“Obviously.” The next missile exploded in mid-air with a devastating blast, Sam flipping uncontrollably through the air as the blast wave caught his wings. Jessica hissed as shards of shrapnel blasted past her face and left narrow red scratches along her cheeks.
“We need to take this guy out now, before he starts taking down buildings,” Sam pushed himself back up, wings creaking and protesting.
“If I had a rifle, I could just shoot him from here.” Bucky kept shooting at drones.
“And there’s too many drones out here, I can’t get any closer. Jessica, you should get to better cover. You’re not even wearing a vest.”
Jessica laughed. “I’ve got a better idea.” She took a few steps away from the cover, then sprinted forward and jumped. High, high above the drones, almost cresting taller than the tenements around them. She whooped as she crashed back to Earth, right through the top of the wannabe’s robotic suit. The city street was silent, then a high pitched scream pierced the air as a pasty, scrawny man was launched from the suit.
“I think I’m in love,” Bucky said confidently.
Sam laughed. “She’s your type, alright.”
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