“You think that HYDRA would’ve calmed after the recent blockade—“ Tony stressed his words through his teeth, unruly eyebrows furrowing down to squint his eyes.

“You know they never will,” said Steve through the comms, boots crunching behind the bags of littered trash and broken bottles counted onto the pavement.

After months and months of running, you had been pinpointed into a diner. It was an outrage when it was figured out that you were doing this upon your own will—working for HYDRA, harming innocent people and fighting against their freedom.

You weren’t brainwashed. Which, a certain soldier could say less about than before.

“Is everyone surrounding the building?” Natasha murmured, pressing deft fingers to her ear for the comms.

“I’m in the ceiling!” Peter’s voice quickly sprang through, sounded like he was almost smiling as he nudged his way through the vents.

“…right.” Tony sighed.

“I am ready! Why are we wasting time?” Thor shouted, the decibels of his deep voice proving to be too much for the ear piece—causing it to ring with feedback.

“Now!”

All bodies moved simultaneously, booming either through doors, windows, (or in Peter’s case, a vent cover), or any negative space.

People of all ages stumbled and screamed, children crying at the noises and older people stumbling to get out of the way.

Usually, when the Avengers crashed through a place, it meant a bad omen.

“HYDRA agent!”