Here it is everyone, the final chapter. Notes are at the end.

When Pietro had died, Wanda had felt it and felt it very hard. Her powers had given her a telepathic link to anyone she deeply cared about. And when it was severed, it was hell on earth.

And now the same was happening again. Which only meant that Steve Rogers was on the brink of death.

She shouldn't have been surprised that it would happen again, but it did. She and Steve had gotten very close over the past few months, and it was the closest thing to family she had now. If he died, she would suffer a second death.

She screamed, and the world screamed with her. The other Avengers were all thrown off, and the HYDRA forces in the room slammed against roofs and walls. Then, she got up and few in Steve's vicinity. The man called Crossbones was dragging Steve's body, which she could tell had taking immense damage. His heart was almost about to give out.

"Tell me what you cherish most," He told Steve, before giving him an evil smile. "Give me the pleasure of taking it away from you." Then, Crossbones spotted Wanda. "What's the matter, princess? Prince Charming not-"

He didn't speak any more than that, because he couldn't. He was being holstered in the air, struggling to breath. Wanda's arms and hands spun lazily, like she did when experimenting with the toys that Strucker had given her in her first tests.

"What did you do to him?" Her words were made of cold, hard ice.

"N-Nothing really. Just snapped his back in two. It might-"

The red energy around his neck began getting ever so more tighter, and he began to choke from it. Wanda's eyes didn't leave him one bit. He was attempting to beg for mercy. What mercy?

Not even noticing Steve groan in pain, or Iron Man step into the room after charging in with his replusors, Wanda amplified Rumlow's torment. His insides burned, his tongue tied within his mouth, and his eyes rolled back inside. And this was without any external pain.

"Wanda," said Stark quickly, sensing everything and what was happening now. "Stop it. Stop it now. Killing him won't heal Steve Rogers. Damn it, Wanda!"

She didn't bother listening to him. She knew he wanted Rumlow alive for questioning. He didn't deserve that. When Rumlow's insides were turned out against him, Wanda snapped his neck with causal disregard. Not like she cared.

As soon as Rumlow's body fell, Wanda went to Steve's side and sobbed. He was almost dead. It would take a miracle to save him, and even in the age of miracles, it was not likely. SO she sobbed and sobbed.

As Stark and Vision cleaned up any remaining henchmen, Steve opened his eyes weakly to see his beloved above him, in great emotional agony. "Don't cry. I'm not dead. Well, not yet. I can hardly feel my legs, though."

Wanda sobbed even more.

"J-Just get me to a hospital and I'll be fine, babe."

Stark walked over to Steve and did a quick scan. "Yep, Rumlow really did a lot of damage. But if we get him proper attention in time-"

Suddenly Steve's body levitated. Wanda's doing. It followed her down the past the town Mons Chimera was situated, towards the nearest hospital in a nearby city. Stark took one last look at the dead, decimated body of Crossbones, and then stepped away, flying off to aid in any way he could in the helicarrier.

The Marines had all but finished cleaning up the rest of the fortress, from where the attack had been launched. It was all now a matter of salvaging the helicarrier. The last report showed Zemo's forces had near control of it. Unless a new source of allied firepower arrived anytime soon, it would have to be scuttled, with no guarantee of anyone's survival.

Despite Zemo's defeat in the office, the battle was going HYDRA's way. Their remaining forces were still more than a match for the SHIELD and DoD personnel left, and were inching extremely close to control of the entire ship. If that happened, everyone here was dead. The helicarrier was an Insight prototype, and could easily swat any reinforcements like gnats.

At least that was how Maria Hill told Frank and Clint as they found a closet to stash the Secretary of Defense in. Hidden in plain sight.

"How long until Stark or Vision can get here?" asked Clint.

"At least five minutes. The men on the main deck won't last that long. It's already a damn massacre."

Frank looked, and saw this to be a true statement. Half of those guys had probably never had to use a firearm in their whole careers. They were mowed down pretty fast, their desks now operated by HYDRA men that began plugging in flashdrives and cables that began rewiring the ship for a new purpose.

That purpose was control.

Well, he had to try. And if they all died, thought Frank, goddamn fuck it. He wasn't going to be pussy whipped at the last minute. He ran into the chaos, firing in all directions he saw enemies as he went. Clint and Natasha followed close behind. Maria stayed back, directing orders from a safer location, and relayed by Sharon Carter.

For a moment, it looked like they might stalemate this battle. HYDRA's people up here would all be dead or dying, and the ship would have to be salvaged by any means necessary. But it didn't look that way, as the final wave of HYDRA's people began their own last push. There were still enough of them to take on all of them. It was the end.

Until a massive burst of machine gun fire enveloped the main control room.

Frank, Natasha and Clint all ducked themselves as the HYDRA soldiers fell to hundreds of thousands of bullets being fired all at once. Who could it have been? Iron Man uses repulsors, and none of the countries Maria called were coming to our aid. Unless they were?

The next thing Frank saw confirmed the latter. Six helicopters flew by in the nearest window, the Russian tricolor flag of blue, white, and red on the side.

Russian forces had come to their aid.

After being label as the boogey man for the good part of the past two weeks, Russia was looking to make it up.

Dozens of Russian aircraft and helicopters were attacking the remaining HYDRA C-130s, sending them crashing into the Adriatic Sea. Russian troops were being landed on the deck, giving the SHIELD/American forces the boost they needed. Had the Russians not arrived, the HYDRA troops might have won. Instead, they were the ones being routed.

What a much needed morale boost. A godsend, no less.

The assassin watched as the Russian forces arrived in masse, destroying everything that his allies had accomplished. HYDRA had attacked this ship with everything they had, in the hopes of no reinforcements for Rusk and his ilk. This was the worst possible time for Russia to give up its petty feud and come to America's aid for once.

Oh well. Not like said assassin enjoyed life that much. Humans fighting and killing each over the most trivial of things – that was where he thrived. From his makeshift sniper's nest on the ladder, he set up the AWM (Arctic Warfare Magnum) sniper rifle, his preferred weapon of choice, and waited. He could afford to wait a little bit.

Eventually, his preferred target of choice – the Punisher – had stopped, talking with the woman who was once second in command of SHIELD. There were plenty of strange bedfellows, but this one had to be near the top of the list. It didn't help matters that the assassin had lost an ear fighting the Punisher, when he'd been an enforcer for the Irish Mob in Hell's Kitchen. Payback made his choice all the much easier.

He caught the Punisher in his sights and fired.

Frank saw the sniper, but it was one too late. The man fired and the bullet came speeding for him. The end was near. It was a straight shot.

But it wasn't.

Clint Barton saw the man. But, lacking an arrow in his immediate hand to fire back, he did the next best thing: take a bullet. It was a 50/50 chance of being a serious wound, and he wasn't going to let Maria go nuts over her boyfriend spilling blood at the worst possible time for the two of them.

The bullet entered and exited Clint's chest. He slumped into both Maria and Frank, hitting the catwalk they were on with a heavy thud.

Frank's immediate reaction was to aim his weapon in the direction of the sniper, who was now switching from a sniper rifle to a submachine gun. He was ready to fire, but Frank fired first, sending the other man falling off his ledge with a cry of anguish. Frank went to where he fell and put a bullet in his head for good. He doubted that he was going to talk anyways. As several Russians began taking up a defensive perimeter, Frank went back to Clint.

Hawkeye was passing out, and very possibly on the verge of death. His face seemed to have a sense of accepting his destiny. "You got him?'
"Yeah. Now don't die on me."

"Who cares? As long as it means you and her survive, it's alright. I just wish I'd have made another phone call to Laura-"

"Goddamnit Barton," snarled Maria, in a more enraged mode. "Don't act like you're dead just yet. There's a hospital where Wanda dropped off Rogers, five miles from here. Can someone spare a Quinjet?"

"I wish we could, mam," said the voice over the comms, "but it appears that the surviving HYDRA forces, including Baron Zemo, have taken off in the remaining vehicles. We missed him by seconds."

Damn. HYDRA should have been dead. Now, Zemo could regroup with Malick somewhere, hide out for a few months, and come back with some nefarious plot to fuck things up again. Not good when loose ends decide to stay that way.

Frank headed that way, leaving Maria tending to a dying Clint Barton in her arms.

Epilogue

Wanda managed to get Steve Rogers to that hospital, which in turn transferred to a much more advanced hospital in Rome. As the doctors told her, it was a miracle.

She doubted that. His spine was broken in multiple areas, all of which would require extensive surgery using even the latest methods. The chance of a potential death was present at all times. She waited in the room outside with Frank and Maria, who tended to her and her emotions. If Steve died, Wanda would do doubt have another one of her fits, and would need to be reasoned with quick.

"How you holding up?" asked Frank. After he'd chased his way down the spare hangar bay where the last Quinjets were, he saw the HYDRA sabotaged jet with Zemo at the helm. A few Russian helicopters went after it, but Frank doubted they'd match the speed.

"I try. To think of him-"

"Hey, look at me." That was Maria, attempting to keep the human equivalent of a nuclear meltdown from happening. "He wouldn't want to see you like this, now would he?"

"No," she said, blowing her nose for what must have been the hundredth time.

And they silently watched Steve Rogers in surgery.

Outside, two figures watched from one of the Seven Hills of Rome. One was about 25, blonde, and carrying a small portable lighter device attached to each hand. The other, older, wore an outfit with crimson and dark purple, with a Roman-styled helmet covering his face.

"Safe," said the older man. "But not the time to intervene."

HYDRA was destroyed two weeks after the battle of Mons Chimera. The losses they suffered that day had been extremely crippling, and what few cells remained intact had either scattered or had driven themselves so deep underground that they would no longer play a major role in world politics. Several made a last stand attacking London, but a combined British/American/Russian task force all but annihilated them.

Gideon Malick had cleaned his offices in Washington and stole $75 million from the Treasury Department. Helmut Zemo retreated to an undisclosed location in Eastern Europe, licking his wounds and plotting his next scheme. What, do you think screwing around with the Avengers was the only trick in his sleeve?

"Ares International is now your private military corperation, Mr. Wilson-"

"Call me Slade."

Clinton Barton was laid to rest a month after Mons Chimera. His body simply didn't want to live. Sometimes it was just like that. The doctors had far less luck with him than they did with Steve Rogers.

Wanda and Frank were both used to it. Death had become commonplace for both of them. Still, neither of them would forget the Avenger that had played a key role in recruiting both of them.

Laura Barton mourned silently, behind the black veil. Her two eldest children unsurprisingly cried most of the time. Young Nathaniel was still too young to comprehend everything. Maria couldn't help but feel bad that he would never get to truly know his father. Still, she could do something. After the coffin was put in the ground, Maria handed Laura an envelope.

In it were several gifts from Fury that would see Laura through her golden years, and Clint's children through college.

The Avengers would ultimately be left in political Limbo. A majority of the population still wanted superheroes kept in check, but the world owed quite a few favors to them. For now, the team would be suspended, to be reinstated at a later date.

"What do you think?" asked Frank. He had picked out a nice pink crib. The latest ultrasound had revealed that it was girl, several months after the final battle.

"I like it," said Maria, who'd finally gotten to pamper herself. With any luck, she'd make a great mother. Of that Frank had little doubt.

Around the same time, as Wanda pushed Steve in his wheelchair, tending to his daily routine, there was a knock on the door to his room. Wanda opened it to find a robed man with a beard and gaunt face.

"Pardon me," he said, "Are you Wanda Maximoff?"

"I am."

"My name is Stephen Strange. I hear you could use some training in magic?"

Thanos stepped out of his chair and turned towards three of his Chitauri captains. Unknown to most, there were far more Chitauri from where the species came from. Each of these three captains commanded an army half the size of the one that had attacked Earth.

At long last, the Infinity Stones would be recovered by the only being capable of truly appreciating them.

"You," said Thanos to the first captain, "take your army to Asgard. The Tesseract is there, and Loki has had his fun masquerading as his adopted father long enough. Do what must be done to take control of the planet."

"The second of you, take your best troops to Knowhere and find Taneleer Tivan, who is in possession of the Aether. Retrieve the Aether from him. Should he refuse to part with it willingly, kill him and take it by force."

"And you, the third among your number, I have a special assignment for you. You will ravage the galaxy, heading to Earth, and let the peoples of the universe know that Thanos is coming, and he's hungry."

I know this chapter took forever, but I figured my personal life took presedence. My dad passed away (peacefully, thank god) a few days ago, and he was going through a bunch of procedures the last few weeks. Maybe that's why this is so dark. In any case, fanfiction gives me a decent distraction from death and finals, so do leave your lovely little reviews if that's your thing. Maybe a thought or two my way? Repercussions will be next, if you haven't read that next. Feel free to message me if that's your thing.

-Jokerang