As Red writhed in pain on the floor, April knelt down beside him to check on him.

April: "Red...?"

Red: "God dammit! I hate when that fucking happens!"

Red was no stranger to being shot, but that didn't make it hurt any less. From his position on the floor, he could see a puff of smoke now emitting from the center of Steve's facial wound, who was still distracted by the wound itself.

Red: "Wonder what his next trick will be. Dropping an a-bomb out of his ass?"

Red started climbing to his feet, blood flowing from the hole in his chest. April tried to help him up, but he managed to stand on his own, although cringing in pain as even the slightest movement sent a fresh eruption of pain through his chest. That was okay though, it would heal soon enough. However, Red needed to deal with Steve before then. While he was certain that could handle anything that Steve might do to him, it'd only be a matter of time before Steve managed to knock him down just long enough to do something to April and although she did have some fighting skill, Steve outweighed her by at least a couple hundred pounds, probably more, and there was also the fact that she wasn't immortal like Red was.

With a hatchet in each hand, Red took a couple steps towards Steve, whose hands were clasped onto his face, his strange blood dripping through his fingers.

Red: "That's just a paper cut compared to what I'm about to do to you!"

Dropping his hands, Steve stared at Red and he stared right back at Steve. Then, at the same time, Steve let out a roar and Red charged at him, hatchets raised. Reaching Steve, Red swung a hatchet at him, but he managed to block the hatchet by grabbing it. Red had anticipated that though and he quickly swung the other hatchet at Steve's wrist, cutting about halfway through it and causing him to let go of the first hatchet. Quickly again, Red pulled the second hatchet free and drove the first one into Steve's wrist as well, the first hatchet finishing what the second had started by cutting Steve's hand completely off. Red moved back as more of Steve's strange blood squirted out, wary of the fact that another bullet or some other surprise could come out of Steve's new stump at any moment. And what came out a moment later wasn't just a bullet, it was many bullets.

Instinctively, Red dropped to the floor, dragging April down with him, as a steady steam of bullets exploded from Steve's wrist like a minigun. Steve swung his wrist around the room in a rage of pain and annoyance, decorating everything in the room with bullet holes and his strange blood that was carried away by the bullets. Red forced April to crawl with him before they were hit too, ending up behind the sofa, still on the floor. Then they just hoped none of the bullets reached them in their temporary hiding place and that Steve would run out of bullets eventually, sooner rather than later.