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Daycycle 110 [ October 2 - October 8]

daycycle 110

[Oct 2 - Oct 8]

Early, Early Morning [0400 - 0800]
Lydia Martin will be woken up at 0400 when a squad of Internal Security Gray Ops come to arrest Samantha Groves for treason. Root will be led away at gun point and Lydia will be immediately taken into IntSec for questioning. She will be grilled for the next four hours on Root's activites and her own loyalty. She will not be released until the Early Morning briefing.

Early Morning [0800 - 0900] — All Troubleshooters Report for Duty

It is announced that there will be a mandatory ceremony for all Troubleshooters this evening in the Commissary. Not attending is treason.

There is no Mission assigned to any Specials Today.

Morning & Afternoon [0900 - 1600] — Service Firm Positions
All Troubleshooters not assigned a mission should report to their Service Firm for their daily duties, unless specifically assigned a different shift.

At 1200 explosives planted by the Frankenstien Destroyers will detonate in the Bot Processing division. The goal is to destroy as many bots as processing equipment as possible. These explosions will cause significant damage to the division and temporarily lock down part of R&D. Troubleshooters will be called to the scene to help clean up and assist citizens caught in the blast.

Evening [1600 - 2200] — Citizen Improvement
All Alpha citizens are encouraged to better themselves through Alpha’s wide variety of educational, entertainment and cultural opportunities offered each evening. Attending these sanctioned events are not mandatory, but is highly encouraged by The Computer. Citizens choosing not to take advantage of these opportunities, have a growing number of other options available to them in how to spend their hard earned credits and free time.

Tonight’s event will be at 1800 in the Commissary and will be hosted by Internal Security. This ceremony is to recognize the hard work and dedication of the Troubleshooters who have gone above and beyond in their service to Alpha Complex. The following specials will be promoted a clearance level for their work: Jillian Holtzmann, promoted to ORANGE for her work in explosives, Lydia Martin, promoted to YELLOW for her work in hygeine, and Matt Murdock, promoted to GREEN for his work in Personal Legal Defensive Practices. A mandatory round of clapping will be held for three minutes for each promotion.

Alpha Curfew Restrictions
All Alpha citizens should be in their quarters within the Wagon Wheel by 2200, unless they’ve been given permission from a GREEN or higher clearance level citizen. Sleeping Aid gas is dispelled each night in the Wagon Wheel at 2200 to assist citizens in getting a productive sleeping period.

Confession Booths
There are hundreds of confession booths available around Alpha Complex if a citizen would like to communicate directly with the computer. Please use these confession booths to report mission statuses, report treason or terrorist acts, unregistered mutants, confess your trespasses against Alpha Complex, request propaganda or speak with Your Friend, The Computer, at any time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Has his body always felt this heavy? It's a random thought, and one that is pointless right now considering what just happened, but Tony's thoughts feel too loose and confusing to muddle through or even sort then properly. And really, his body just feels heavy, and he half wonders if that's why he finds himself stumbling once he manages to haul himself up. He should be used to this, he reminds himself. He has gotten knocked around more than he has a right to as Iron Man, even before that - he needs to focus. He needs to find Cisco.

As he looks around, he doesn't even know where to start. The room is a mess, and he can barely make out anything between the destruction left behind, but Tony's main goal right now is to find Cisco. He tries to locate the jumpsuit, maybe a hint of red (the jumpsuit, the idea of blood guiding him to Cisco isn't a thought he's willing to entertain), but no luck.

The sound of his voice suddenly catches his attention, but the smell of burnt flesh and hair is really what registers more than anything. It's probably adrenaline alone what makes Tony move over to him faster, but it still doesn't feel like it's fast enough. Especially when he really takes in the extent of the burns that he can see, and shit. Shit.

"Hey, man." There's a hint of a slur to his words that he himself can't notice, and when he drops to his knees it feels like his whole body just plummets. The pain feels like it's pulling him under, but he reaches for Cisco's right wrist so he can check for a pulse. Focus, he reminds himself. Focus, damn it.

"I've got you. We're okay." Well. That's probably sugarcoating things, but despite the strain in his voice, he still tries to sound reassuring.

It's a weird feeling seeing Tony drop down next to him like that, because it's equal parts relief and fear. The thing is, what little he's gathered of the other man's personality in the time they've been working together so far is that they're fairly similar in their typical responses to things; both are more likely to force dry levity into a situation where it's unwelcome than anything else, just for the sake of staying sane, but the look on Tony's face tells Cisco more than he actually wants to know about his own state. Which is to say...not good.

Strangely, as Tony's trying to reassure him that they're both fine when neither of them are, Cisco's mind wanders off. He wishes Caitlin was here. She'd know how to fix them both. He wishes Barry had his speed, so they could get to the hospital wing faster; they both clearly need it. He tells himself he's going to develop new jumpsuits that still look similar enough so as to fly under the radar, but which have more protective qualities. That's what Cisco used to do back home. Before Team Flash. Before the Particle Accelerator explosion.

Explosion…

"Your chest…" he grunts. "Lay down. Lay down. Your chest." Cisco tells himself to move, wills himself to shift, just a little. He hurts everywhere, but he's okay. He has to be okay because Tony's literally got a shard of what looks like metal sticking out of his freaking chest. "I'm okay," he says, but he's not sure who he's trying to convince. "Lay down, Tony."

Counting Cisco's heart rate lessens the internal panic in Tony's brain enough to at least feel a little better. Generally, counting beats is like a comfort mechanism to him, has been ever since he was a little boy (old habit, picked up while learning how to play the piano from his mother), and right now it's almost like he's doing the same thing. Except, instead of beats, it's his heart rate, and it helps him think past the ringing in his head at least for a moment.

The problem is, he can't seem to figure out what the hell had happened. One second everything was fine, now here they are. Had it been a faulty bot? The explosion had been more than defective equipment, though, especially based on the radius of the explosion, and--

Cisco's talking again. His chest? What about it? He looks down at himself, but it's almost like he's staring at something that isn't his own body. There's metal embedded into his chest, and all he sees is red - the jumpsuit, the blood that is soaking through, and...shit, is the room spinning?

"We have to get out of here." His eyes look a little unfocused from the pain and the shock and he blood loss, but he tries to shake his head at Cisco's insistence that he needs to lay down. Lay down? No. They have to get out, he thinks, even if he can't bring himself to move as he almost sways a little in his kneeling position. "Maybe we can...find a way out."

Edited 2016-10-03 20:53 (UTC)

As Tony contradicts him just by not actually following Cisco's advice, the younger man has never wanted to scream or, honestly, cry more than he does right now. Tony can't help him up because he's losing too much blood and Cisco's no doctor, but he has a feeling that sitting up like that, in a kneeling position, he's only inviting more blood flow. Cisco still hurts everywhere and still hasn't registered the pain of his burns completely, yet, but adrenaline can do amazing things.

With a choked cry of pain, Cisco forces himself onto his stomach so he can push himself up. The first attempt has him faceplanting straight down again because holy shit his hands. That's when Cisco finally starts to really feel the effects of the burns, slowly trickling into his reality. First his hands from putting out the fire in his hair with them. Then his face after slamming it into the floor like that in his failed attempt to get up. His stomach turns and he freezes because, for a second, all of that pain hitting him at once on to of the fact that he's already feeling shattered on the inside of his body, makes him sick to his stomach.

"Dios, do not throw up right now, Cisco," he hisses at himself, tears springing to his eyes when he puts his weight on his hands again to push himself up. This time, he's prepared for the jolt of agonizing pain and while it still hurts, it doesn't knock him down a second time.

"We will, but...ay Dios, okay...okay, man."

He looks around for the first time since the smoke has started to settle and the whole damn lab is in complete ruin. He sees half a leg and a foot sticking out from under a fallen piece of machinery that must weigh tons on its own and before he can even register that it's a corpse, the floor sort of opens up a little beneath it and it falls from sight. Cisco doesn't know if it's going to the floor below them or whether that's actually what it looks like when a new clone is generated for a fallen Alpha.

"Hello?!" Cisco calls out. "Anybody?! Es nadie más con vida en esta lista? ¡¿Nadie?!"

They can't be the only survivors, can they?

Cisco manages to get close enough to get on his own knees in front of Tony, pressing both of his charred hands against Tony's chest on either side of the shard, half to try to slow the bleeding and half to keep Tony upright.

Natasha knows that this place is dangerous, but what she isn't used to is being worried about the people that she cares for.

Perhaps worried isn't the right word. She's always 'worried' about Steve, because he's too hard on himself and idealistic. He's bound to eventually cross a line that he can't come back from, and she doesn't know what that will do to him. She's worried about Bruce despite the vitriol she feels toward him because he's doomed himself to a life of loneliness, and she's worried about Tony because his self-destructive nature and PTSD can ruin him slowly from the inside out until he's but a shell of the man he used to be; wants to be. She's never worried about their safety, though, because they can handle themselves just as much as she can; or, they could. Ever since arriving in this place she's watched her former teammates deal with their sudden lack of physical power, and that is what the root of her concern has been. She didn't expect it to be a problem so soon.

The only reason Natasha is even in the R&D Sector is because it provides a firing range, and she always tests her blaster for the day before going out on the streets after seeing how Barry's failed so spectacularly a couple of days ago. She's just leaving when she hears the explosion that sends everybody in the halls running, while Nat begins to sprint in the opposite direction of them - toward the noise. It's a series of blasts, not just one bomb, and she's prepared to see destruction when she reaches the source to try and help whoever needs it.

What she doesn't expect, however, is to see not one, but two people that she knows, and both look horrific.

The smoke in the air is thicker in the room than it is in the hall although it seems to have settled a little, it's haze more prevalent higher up than lower to the ground. The common mistake people make when it comes to Natasha Romanoff isn't assuming that she's harmless, it's the assumption that she's stoic, so detached from the situations around her that she's capable of keeping a calm head in any situation. The fact is, Natasha panics, and she's panicking right now as she runs in the room with her arm covering her face and nose before dropping to her knees beside her teammate and her roommate. Yes, she can control panic, she's seen battle and the gruesome aftermath, she's lost good people - that doesn't mean she isn't panicked.

"Get on the ground." She speaks firmly and hurriedly to Tony first, because under immediate sight he looks worse off than Cisco does. There's metal sticking out of his chest an Natasha can feel her throat closing at the thought of losing him; their friendship is complicated. Natasha doesn't have many friends, though, and she considers Tony as one of them. She cares for him, that's an undeniable fact, and seeing him like this is easily one of her worst fears come to life. "What happened, Stark, tell me what happened." She's still speaking quickly as she moves behind him to slowly lead him down, but this time it's because she needs his brain to work. She knows Tony. If there's any way to keep him conscious it's to make him process; make him think.

As soon as he's down she's moving to look at Cisco, immediately spotting the horrible burns on his hands and his face. "You too, lie down," she adds quickly, carefully letting her hands hover around him to try and catch him if he falls. "You need to keep your hands elevated over your chest, alright? Can you do that for me? Cisco," she stares down at him, and everything about Natasha in that moment speaks with confidence. "You're going to be okay, we're going to get you out of here. Help is on the way, I just need you to stay completely still. Awake." She gives him a weak smile, but she cracks; her voice wavers. "I swear, if you stay awake I'll find a way to get you all of the damn fruit you want, alright? Stay."

This is bad. She doesn't have enough hands, but she's doing the best she can until help shows up, and where is the help? She returns to Tony, analyzing the metal that's sticking out of his chest; she can't remove it. He'd bleed out immediately. Natasha looks around but she can't spot anything fabric that isn't already burning, so she looks at her own shoulder to tear at the seam of her jumpsuit, ripping the sleeve off as quickly as she can and using it to slow the bleeding. "Tony," she says his name in an effort to get his attention and keep him awake, and when she manages to meet his eye she gives him a smile. The facade is failing fast.

"Do you remember your party?" It's the first thing that comes to her head. She has to keep them awake. Keep them talking. "Cisco, you should have seen this party, it was a couple of years ago when Tony and I first met. You remember that, Shellhead?" This isn't looking good. No one is coming. He's going to die. Natasha is about to watch her friend die beneath her hands and she's not ready. "You let me wear one of your gauntlets and you taught me how to shoot it. The blowback," she gives a watery laugh. It's not convincing. She needs help. She's not a doctor. She can't fix this. "It almost bent my elbow back, I wasn't even a little ready for it. I acted like I was, but my shoulder was bruised for a solid week. You should have seen it, Cisco," she looks at her roommate, still holding pressure on Tony's chest while trying to keep Cisco's attention. "His suits, you would love them. They have these... arc... photon... blaster things in the palm - I have no idea what they're called. Tony, what are they called? They could put a hole in the side of the Pentagon, Cisco. And the thing can fly, I've always wanted to try it out. Tony is going to build me one, isn't that right, Stark? As soon as we're out of here, as soon as we're home? Right?"

Her hands are soaked in the blood that the cloth absorbed but the pressure is helping, at least, because he's not bleeding out anymore. It's the internal damage that she's worried about, and her bottom lip is quivering before she turns her head to wipe her eyes on her one remaining sleeve. She's scared.

Natasha is terrified.

She's about to try and keep them talking again before she hears something behind her, and her heart jumps in her throat when she assumes that it's a med-bot until she looks; it's Clint, and although he's no doctor either, she still gives a wavering sound of shocked relief. She needs him here, and with how long Clint has known Natasha, he can probably see that. "They're hurt bad, Cisco Ramon has bad burns on his hands and his face, we need to get him under some water but I'm afraid to move him even if there's a chemical shower somewhere in here. Tony-" she stops when her voice cracks and then pushes on, more firmly than before. "There's something in his chest, I don't want to remove it, medical hasn't arrived. I haven't scouted the room." Because the most important problems are right here in front of her. She's staring at her friend - brother - with desperation. "It's not looking good, we have to get them out of here, they can't stay in her but we can't move them without risking injury" or death "and medical still hasn't fucking arrived."

It was almost impossible to miss the blast, no matter how far away someone was.

Clint had been sent to pick up some new parts from the R&D sectors and was on his way there, enjoying the short time of being out of the testing facility (even if he did like being there more than was probably healthy, a break was always appreciated), which was the only reason he got there as fast as he did. The ground had shaken and the air had imploded around him and nearly knocked him off his feet, shock waves rolling through the sector and out to the city at large, and without even thinking about it he was running full-force in the direction the blast had come from as the screaming and panic started. He'd been around explosions too much, he'd been in explosions too much to know better than to think that no one had been hurt in that, and the sirens that started up warning of an emergency only confirmed that. He had to get there, had to find the epicenter, had to get the people out-

Medical was likely delayed because of so many people trying to get the hell out of there, not an unreasonable reaction given what was going on. Clint was just boneheaded enough to be going in the other direction, but he paused for half a minute to grab one of the machine-covering sheets in a section of R&D that was rapidly emptying and rip it into pieces with a multitool left on a table, running a good number of them under a water tap to wet them and then tying one over his face. He'd be no good to people if he started suffering from smoke inhalation and ended up needing medical attention himself, after all. Once that was done he pressed on, the corridors mostly empty now, but someone had obviously gotten there before him (or people had gotten out), because some of the debris - which was getting thicker the closer he got - had obviously been moved, pieces pushed out of the way to clear a corridor. A lot of them were still unstable and so he took care not to touch them and overbalance them, but that only made it more imperative to get anyone who was left in there out.

"Hello? Anybody here?" The outer areas of what was clearly the blast radius were clear - except for blood splashed around in a few places. But there were no people there, and so Clint dismissed it and continued on. Further in, there was obviously one person trapped under a collapsed section of wall - and there was just as obviously nothing he could do for them given the amount of blood spilled. He'd seen more than his share of bodies in the past; Clint averted his eyes and continued on.

Only to see the one thing he didn't want to see more than anything here, Nat - and of course it's Nat, that hair can only be Nat - Nat on the floor of where it was close to the origin of the bomb blast, or at least one of them, and there was blood, why was there blood, Nat didn't even work here, what was she doing - and without his conscious control Clint was running over to her and skidding to a stop next to her in a full-on rockstar knee slide, and his knees landed in a puddle of blood and it was starting to soak into the fabric, and he spotted-

He spotted nothing, not on her anyway, nothing except panic. The blood was coming from the body in front of her, a body he knew all too well, and maybe had wanted to see bleed some, but not like this, never like this. He's shocked still and silent for exactly half a second before his mind locks down. Response to crisis first, panic later. Save lives, don't lose them. Fortunately S.H.I.E.L.D. involved basic trauma care, but just as clearly Nat wasn't capable of thinking straight right at that moment. So, priorities: calm Nat down so they had two sets of hands. Get wetmasks on all of them to stop smoke inhalation. Get more pressure on Tony's wound to keep him from bleeding out. Get the other guy - Cisco Ramon - on his feet, he could walk and those burns were severe enough that he shouldn't be in pain doing so (though that was because those nerve endings had probably been scorched past the point of working which was less than ideal but would at least be enough to get him out of the immediate danger zone; better alive and scarred after all). Get Cisco out the door. Get some sort of stretcher for Tony. Transfer Tony to the stretcher. Get him out of there without jostling his wound too much. Hope and pray medical arrived before they could complete all those steps. In the case medical didn't show, hope and pray someone else did because moving Tony was going to take three people.

"Nat, стоп. Фокус. Теперь. Мы должны помочь им, а не потерять его. Medical's gonna have to fight the people panicking to get here so it's on us right now. On three, switch out with me, take one of the strips-" he sort of shrugged the shoulder he'd thrown the wet strips of sheet over, "-put it on, then get him propped up. He needs to keep the burns over his heart. Get a mask on him, then come back and help me stabilize Stark. You got this - go." Whether Nat followed his directions or not, Clint pulled a couple of the dry strips off his other shoulder, wrapping one around each hand and then counted down quickly. "Один два три!" With that, he shoved his hands and the cloth padding under hers, replacing her pressure with his own and some more material to keep the blood in Stark's body. "Damnit Stark, you've always got to be a drama queen." No time now to think about how sour his feelings on the man had been left after the Raft; Clint had never wanted him dead. Maimed a little, but not dead. But keeping him alert was the way to go right now; with the place the wound was, it was possible - probable - that Tony had a punctured lung or bronchial tube, and he didn't need to be speaking right now. "You can hear me, right? Blink twice if you can."

After all, an explosion was how he'd lost his own hearing. He didn't want that to happen to anyone else. Thank god for S.H.I.E.L.D. R&D.

But at that moment, Clint heard heavy booted feet pounding down the hall towards them, and he absolutely didn't hesitate in yelling. "In here! Two wounded - burns and bleeding from shrapnel fragments!" And while it wasn't medical showing up in the door, considering the situation, he'd take what he got. "Cap, Barnes, we need a stretcher! We need to get these guys out of here before the whole place falls apart, some of the structural beams are getting ready to go!"

Edited 2016-10-04 01:07 (UTC)

Steve, Bucky and four other members of the Very Special Forces are riding in the back of an armored truck when the explosions go off. They can’t see it, but they can hear one thunderous roar after another, as the shockwaves from the blasts vibrate the metal walls against their backs. The truck swerves without warning and their bodies are thrown against their three point safety belts — which catch their torsos like a net.

A huge piece of debris is scraping, digging against the ceiling of their truck, filling it with the unbearable screeching of metal against metal, and leaves a deep and terrifying dent in its wake.

But the truck keeps moving.

All of their earpieces activate at once, as new orders are transmitted. R&D’s bot processing division has just been bombed. As the unit closet to the sector and already en route, on arrival, immediately begin search and rescue. Medical teams are being deployed from Technical Services and should arrive shortly.

There’s a flicker of fear in Steve’s expression as he locks eyes with Bucky. He knows that Tony works in bot processing.

But there isn’t time to waste, so the Captain pushes the thought aside and begins to call it. Eight of them were in the vehicle — six in back, two in front. On arrival, they would split into teams of two (“Bucky, with me.”) and pan out in search of survivors. Bot processing had been the target, but Steve assigns each team its own subdivision to search — if at this distance, a piece of debris can hit their vehicle, then the entire R&D sector must be suffering. They hadn’t left Armed Forces as a search and rescue unit, so the only additional gear they had for this mission was two extra AF-issued first aid kits per soldier, and duct tape. Use both generously.

Their boots hit the ground seven minutes later, everyone running behind Steve until they hit the main lobby of R&D. Smoke was coming from at least half the corridors. “Get the gauze masks out of your first aid kits,” he shouts, as he pulls a canteen of water out from his belt and unscrews the top, pouring it onto the gauze as fast as possible. When their masks are secure, he gives the command to fan out to their assigned subdivisions. Steve’s eyes meet Bucky’s and they immediately move as a unit, heading straight towards bot processing. The Cap knows exactly where to go — he’s was here to see Tony just last week.

Steve can hear Clint’s voice before he and Bucky get to the door. In here! Two wounded - burns and bleeding from shrapnel fragments! But those words do nothing to prepare them for what they see. Steve’s eyes follow Clint’s hands to Tony’s chest before he sees Natasha putting a wet cloth over a young man’s face. His skin was severely burned and her hands were red with blood.

Just like Clint’s. Bloody hands pushing against Tony’s bloody chest.

But they were soldiers. Their default reaction to trauma was action, so Steve eyes dart across the room, looking for any type of sheet that would be strong enough to hold a person’s weight. Nothing. Except too metal poles that had fallen out of the ceiling and were now leaning against the far wall.

His hand gravitates to the roll of duct tape in his pocket and Steve eyes narrow before he looks back at Bucky. “We’ll make one out of duct tape.” And they get to work. Retrieving the poles. Using each other to pull and cut the tape into an emergency duct tape field stretcher.

Edited 2016-10-04 03:00 (UTC)

It's always the fucking quiet before the storm. The quiet with a decent night's sleep and breakfast that doesn't taste too bad. Getting to work a few minutes early without having to rush. You know, nice. The kind that doesn't last if you bother to think about it. So Buck is riding around in a truck with his best friend in another lifetime, thinking he might actually get used to this after a while. Certainly better than what the glitches say he endured.

And then -- explosion.

Big explosion, considering how hard the truck is rattled by the impact tremor and aftershocks. And whatever the hell just landed on the roof. The smell of smoke and fire fills the air, and for a moment Buck feels weightless. Timeless. Like the smell of war has been with him forever. Then orders filter in through the communication lines, and he has to brace himself against the side of the vehicle in order to keep from falling out as they race towards R&D.

Steve shares a look with him, fear glinting around the trepidation that Bucky also shares. Not that it'll stop them from going into help. And it doesn't, despite his shaky nerves. He follows instructions like he was born to it, making a mask to reduce the potential for damage to his lungs, makes sure his weapon is locked and loaded, and races into the building just behind Steve, with the rest of his gear.

The hallways are dark and smoke-filled, but he knows better than to lose sight of his CO. With each step taken, the nerves fall away, replaced by instinct as old as war itself. By the time he and Steve reach ground zero, his worried expression is replaced by a sternness that anyone who knew the Commandos would recognize. Sergeant James Barnes, reporting for duty, come hell or high water. He takes in the nightmare scene before them, ordering anyone moving behind him to either search for more survivors or clear a path through the debris to get the wounded out. Paramedics are expected shortly and they'll need every second.

Nor does he bother to make sure that his orders are being carried out. It doesn't matter than everyone's jumpsuit is RED. Time is precious and right now Steve is the only one he knows outranks him. Steve who already has a plan. (Because of course he does.) Bucky carefully moves around the trio on the floor, recognizing only Natasha. He nods at her, offers narrow eyes to Clint (who is this yahoo) and Tony merely gets a brief look-over before he hustles on to help Steve finish up the stretcher.

"I don't think we can wait for medical to get here, Cap. These guys gotta be moved now."

Edited 2016-10-04 03:44 (UTC)

The world is moving too quickly, and Tony's head is spinning, but he can't make it stop.

When Natasha starts to help him lay down, Tony almost resists - we have to get out - but the energy for it faded before he could even protest. Once down, though, it's almost as if he goes underwater. It's almost as if the metal sticking out of his chest is pinning him down, almost as if it's the heaviest damn thing in the world, and Tony can barely breathe. Even when Natasha asks him what happened, Tony thinks he answers, but he can barely open his lips.

God, it hurts. It hurts, the pain radiates through him in waves, and it's like the tide is too strong for him to fight. His vision blurs and fades as he tries to fight the way his eyes want to droop close, and if he's holding on it's mainly because Natasha's watery laugh is something that is alarming enough to make him realize he has to stay awake, but it's hard to focus. It's hard to think. It's hard to remember that he shouldn't fall asleep; it's hard to not just succumb to that darkness that is trying to claim him all too quickly.

And then... Clint? His voice sounds like him, asking him to blink, and he does even if it's delayed and for a moment he almost wonders if he's even really there. Is he dreaming? Shit, maybe all of this is a dream, maybe it's all in his head--

But, no. His head lolls to the side, as if to check if he's dreaming, to see if Cisco is still there, but even doing just that hurts and if he doesn't cry out it's only because his throat doesn't seem to work anymore. His body tenses, though, his features distorting from the pain, and even if he can't voice how much it hurts, his vision blurs again.

Is this how it ends? He's going to die in the rubble. He's going to die with a piece of metal buried in his chest, and there's Natasha, and Clint, and Steve, and--... Barnes? Okay, now he's definitely dreaming, but maybe this is just how it needs to end. There's people that he let down (Clint, and even Cisco, considering he couldn't get them out), and friends he never repaired things with (Natasha and Steve), and the one that haunts him for various reasons (Barnes), and well. Leave it to the Computer to have a screwed up sense of humor about it all.

I'm sorry, he wants to tell them, any of them, all of them, but the words get stuck in his throat and feel like they choke him. He doesn't have the energy to talk - he barely has the energy to breathe and force himself to stay awake, but he's drowning. He's sure of it; he's just waiting until he sinks completely into darkness.

Relief floods through him when he sees Natasha. That means people know what happened; that means people are coming. Help is coming.

Cisco bites back a whimper when Natasha tells him to lay down because she has no idea how much pain he endured and how much energy it took just to get up in the first place. For all he knows, there's internal bleeding that he's already exacerbated by getting up to put pressure on Tony's wound, but if he moves again, he could make it worse, still. "I can't. I can't, I can't. I don't want to move again, I don't think you understand how hard it was to move the first time to help him, I can't."

All the same, with all the smoke, he knows she's right. How much more damage could he possibly do than he already had by being thrown into the machine behind him and then forcing himself up to help his friend? Cisco isn't ashamed when the cries of agony rip from his throat when he follows her instruction, burned hands slick with Tony's blood sliding on the floor and making it that much harder for him to do so smoothly or gracefully. Every movement feels like being stabbed with a thousand knives. Honestly, he can't remember ever being in this much pain.

Once he's down, his breath is shaky because it hurts to breathe but he knows he still has to. He's conscious and he isn't fighting a battle to stay that way, so he listens to Natasha even though he's pretty sure she's mostly talking to keep Tony awake. "He told me about the suits, yeah...it sounds a lot like Ray's, except—" he pauses to grunt a little, panting for breath when a tiny movement of his head seems to ripple through his entire body like white hot fire. "—except Ray's suit can shrink. I'd like to see it sometime. But Tony already knows that, don't you, man?"

More people are flooding into the area and they all seem to know Tony. Cisco recognizes exactly none of them. His eyes shift away from the ever-growing group and past them, in the direction from which they came. Cisco keeps hoping to see Caitlin. Barry. Felicity. Anyone. They never come.

Finally, he looks back at Natasha. "Hey...we are gonna be okay, Nat. Don't..." he pauses, wincing again at a particularly painful intake of air, "look so worried." At that, he tries to force a smile, but it hurts too much and falls flat. She's the only one who's actually spoken directly to him, plus she's the only one he actually knows besides Tony who is fading terrifyingly fast, and so he focuses on her. "I'm gonna hold you to that thing with the fruit. I hope you know that."

The way that Clint speaks to her so firmly, giving direct orders in her native tongue and in English, is what helps Natasha pull herself out of her own head. The fact of the matter is, if he never showed, Tony would be dead. She can't possibly move him like this by herself, no matter how much first aid she knows, how good she is in combat, how well of a diplomat or manipulator or spy she's become... Natasha isn't a savior. She still has basic human limits, she doesn't have super strength or any super powers. For her, the impossible isn't an obstacle; it's an actual limit.

But Clint is here and saving someone is a lot easier with four hands instead of two. The moment he gives her an order she's moving with a new sense of determination, because now they have a chance, despite how small it is. She takes a wet cloth and wraps it around her face before grabbing another for Cisco, and she moves over to him with to let Clint keep Tony stable so she can wrap a wet cloth around Cisco's mouth as well. "I know you're going to be okay," she finally responds to him as she eyes him over more closely, taking in the severity of his condition one step at a time. "You have to be. What, you think that I want to deal with new roommate? You know how much I hate new people, maybe think about that next time before you decide to be selfish and get caught up in an explosion, huh?"

Despite her teasing words Natasha's touch is soft, fingertips running over his side over his jumpsuit without pressure but to read his reaction at the slight sensation. She can hear that Rogers and Barnes have arrived, and while her other three companions are making sure Stark is alright Natasha leans down close enough where she can speak to Cisco without having to shout over the commotion.

"I've got you, Cisco, I'm not going to let anything happen to you." She gives him a nod. "I need you to stay perfectly still, alright? And keep your hands up."

Natasha moves, then, getting to her feet fluidly, and she sees Rogers and Barnes making a stretcher for Tony before she moves past them to the exposed pipes that Steve had spotted. "James is right," Natasha says, the name gaffe made in her distraction due to the fact that she still knows Bucky as 'James Buchanan Barnes, Winter Soldier' from his file and old habits die hard. She grabs onto two pipes, one already loose, and she rips the other out of the wall before returning to start a second stretcher beside the first that the boys were working on. "Ramon has third degree burns on the face, torso and extremities, his jumpsuit is fused with his skin on the upper right pectoral."

Her eyes move to watch the way that Steve and Bucky make the stretcher before she grabs the duct tape from Steve, mimicking it herself to start a second. She's a fast learner, equal distribution of support, doubling the layers of tape for durability... it's easy enough. "There's internal damage, I'm assuming that he has at least a couple of fractured ribs, internal bleeding is probable, he can't walk like this." Sometimes the boys may forget that civilians aren't used to walking off severe bodily damage - Natasha admittedly forgets it too. It took her a good minute back in Sokovia to remember that for the majority of the population, walking wasn't solely dependent on whether or not your legs were broken. "There might be spinal damage, I'm not sure yet."

Her hands are steady when she finishes the stretcher and she drags it over to lie parallel to Cisco, a smear of Tony's blood on her cheek from wiping her face before managing to get all of it off of her hands. "Get ready, Ramon, all expenses paid trip." She moves to stand behind his head, leaning down and taking his shoulders as securely and safely as possible. "Hey Barnes, want to be a gentleman and help a lady out over here?" She nods to Cisco once she gets his attention, waiting for him to finish what he's doing before he can come over.

"Medical is probably coming from the Technical Services Section, we start carrying them out of here and get them into fresh air we could meet them halfway and load them onto an actual Med Transport- Anthony." She says Tony's name abruptly and loudly; she's seen this enough times before - been there enough times before - to tell when daze is finally starting to slip into unconsciousness. He's close. "You better stay awake, do not make me come over there, do you hear me? Tell me what happened here."

She knows that he's not going to be able to answer, but it's another input of information for him to try and process to make him think. Even if he's doing it silently, it's something to give his brain simulation to concentrate on and keep his neurons firing. When Bucky comes over to her Natasha rips off her other sleeve because the jumpsuit is already destroyed anyway, and she folds it up to create a makeshift pillow for Cisco on the stretcher.

"Alright, Ramon, it's time to be a badass, this is going to hurt like a bitch but we're going to try to make it go fast, alright?" She meets Bucky's eye and nods at him. "On three. One... two, three." They move Cisco onto the stretcher steadily and as quickly as possible, and Natasha grabs one end of it. "We're going to lift you now, it's not going to hurt as bad as that did. Silver linings."

Nat's moving, that's good. She's doing what he said, that's even better - he can see the life come back into her expression, the focus and determination, and as she moves off to take care of Cisco, Clint discounts the young man from his notice. Not out of lack of concern for him, not at all, but because he has full trust in his partner and he knows that if she needs more help, she'll tell him. Tell them, because it's Cap and Barnes, and they're nothing if not effective and productive. Yes, Barnes as well. Clint's literally got his hands full making sure Stark doesn't bleed to death beneath him, and so almost all his focus is on that one task, with a small section of his mind divided off to pay attention to his teammates as they work and anything they say as well as listen for further structural failures or other approaching help. Medical help will get there as fast as they can, but there just isn't time to wait for them, or to worry about clearances and jumpsuits and all that bullshit.

But thankfully Cap trusts his team and knows that if someone's barking orders, there's a reason for it. He doesn't buy into any of that bullshit either, and so Clint has no problems ordering him around if he needs to, especially since Steve will obviously see the value in what he's saying. "Cut off my sleeve, we can make a headrest out of that." And while it's not exactly an uncomfortable fabric, it's not good for wound-packing the way the other strips of sheet he brought will be. There's a knife of some sort around his shoulder, probably Steve, and Clint holds completely stock still as it slices through the fabric around the armseye and down the sleeve. "You've got tape? We're gonna need to tape some of this down over the wound as a pressure bandage to get him out of here. We can't take this out of him without him bleeding to death."

Congratulations, Tony. Not only did you manage to get yourself a gaping chest wound again, you managed to get one worse than Afghanistan and the maybe-Ten-Rings gave you. This is turning into a habit, and they need to break you of it.

Later. "Nat, when you're done, toss the tape over. Barnes, grab these dry strips, pack them over my hands, and we'll get him set up and then get the hell out of here." The strips disappear from over his shoulder, and one real and one metal hand press down two cloth pads over his hands bare seconds later, and Clint pulls them out as gently yet as quickly as he can so he doesn't hurt Tony further, but the difference in pressure is likely going to make him hurt somehow. In this case, though, pain is good; pain means his body hasn't gone into shock and started shutting down, the nervous system too overloaded to function. Gasping means he's awake and hopefully not choking on his own blood. One of the wet strips of cloth is dragged off his other shoulder and banded down over the other cloth like a strap and Clint holds it at an even pressure while Steve rips the tape open and Barnes goes to help Nat. The tape ripping is loud even among the sirens and panic going on outside, the occasional chunk of wall or floor falling down with a crash, the fires starting to burn more out of control as no one's left to put them out. "Come on Tony, you've gotta stay awake. Stay awake and focus on us, got it? Listen to us, listen to our voices. You're not allowed to kick it in now, you owe me something you bastard. We're gonna have to get you on that stretcher and it's going to hurt but we're gonna get you out of here once we do and medical can get that shit out of you and stitch you shut so blink. Focus on what I'm saying and let us know you're still here and don't say anything but blink. One, two - come on, you're too much of a stubborn asshole to give up like this, prove it - one, two, three..."

Once Steve's bound the padding down over the wound as well as can be done in a rush job, they'll transfer him over and get the hell out. They don't have the luxury of taking as much time as they need.

Effective and productive. Quick and efficient. All of the above and accustomed to moving through a warzone, although it's been a long time since he's performed that duty as a non-brainwashed participant. Bucky hasn't been out from under HYDRA's control very long, so his movements are as precise as a knife; cutting through any and all bullshit to get done whatever needs doing. He packs Barton's hands, helps transfer the younger of the two victims onto a stretcher, and pushes back any discomfort at the way Tony's face reminds him of someone else. Someone he knew a long time ago.

It's easier to concentrate on the present, second by second, minute by minute. He follows Steve's lead, a shared look between them has Bucky partnering up with the redhead, while Steve assists the other guy with Gaping Chest Wound Man. And, all too soon, the four of them are braced around Cisco and Tony, even though he's only aware of the former's name due to Natasha's worried murmurs, and still clueless to the identity of the older man. When Steve gives the order, the teams move as one, moving carefully out of ground zero and towards the outside. It's a small hope, but Bucky is praying silently that the damn medical team, with their snazzy vehicles and crash kits, shows up before they have to cart seriously injured science types all the way to the hospital.

When they reach the street outside, and a siren cuts through the air, he starts believing that everyone might actually make it out of this alive.

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Daycycle 110 [ October 2 - October 8]

daycycle 110

[Oct 2 - Oct 8]

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