#MAMTWritingChallenge
NOTE: I'm sorry that I'm having to link out to my AO3, but I'm uploading this from my ipad because my new laptop is dead, and the tumblr app is not letting me upload more than 1000 characters in a text post. UGH! I'm sorry again, I will try to post it to tumblr, but the work on AO3 is open for anyone to view.
Well, here's the first part of my Steve Rogers/ OFC fic, for 1fellswoop MarvelAtMyTrash for the MARVEL At My Trash Writing Challenge!
The cliche I chose was "Confined space for multiple days."
Well, I hope everyone likes it. It's very short, just 4600 words, I had hoped to finish it today, (I do have most of part 2 finished) but my toddler has refused to nap the whole week, and my brand new laptop that my hubby gifted me for Christmas decided to suddenly and without a warning die on me. So I'm typing on my phone or ipad, which is truly a challenge! XD Anyway, enjoy!
Title: Confined Space
Pairing: Steve Rogers/OFC
Setting: AU after Civil War. Steve leaves and becomes a mercenary.
Rating: MA Sex. Violence. Language. (Not in that order. XD)
Notes: This is part of the Marvel At My Trash Writing Challenge by 1fellswoop MarvelAtMyTrash. Thank you for allowing me to participate. I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: The mission was supposed to have been easy. A simple extraction and recovery job. In retrospect, I should have known that the mission was bound to be a high risk, considering Steve Rogers had been assigned as my partner. Still, we had been left overwhelmed and rattled, when the mission took an unexpected turn.
Link: /works/14775629
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The location had been a small uncharted island in the middle of the South Atlantic. Under the guise of night, we had inconspicuously boarded a ship off Rio de Janeiro, and had dropped off hundreds of miles away from any major landmass in the middle of the night.
Our destination was about eighty miles away from our target, but we had equipment to make the swim faster and relatively safer…
Well, as safe as it was for two metahumans to be swimming in open water…
As soon as we had drawn closer to the island, we had dropped all of our equipment and had swam the last twenty miles to the shoreline.
We were to be airlifted from the island as soon as we gave the all clear, so our weapons were limited to what could be carried against our bodies and under the wetsuits. Not that two enhanced individuals needed much for a simple extraction and recovery, but I had brought a couple knives and the signaling device that would transmit our location to the contact waiting for the signal thousands of miles away.
It did strike me as odd that for a highly secure secret-island, it had been so extremely easy to infiltrate, but I shrugged it off. A few miles inland, Rogers had raised a hand and stopped as the trees and the jungle became more dense. The night was quiet, save for the cry of a few insects and the soft rustling of leaves.
He crouched low next to a fallen trunk and turned to look at me as I did the same. Bringing a finger to his lips he signaled for silence, not that I had been about to speak, I almost rolled my eyes, but was caught by how clear his eyes looked under the moonlight.
I swallowed hard and looked away, tuning in to my surroundings on any sounds or unusual feelings around us. I needed to focus, and thinking of Rogers and his dreamy blue eyes as well as that new look with the beard did not help…
I hadn't seen the man in almost nine months, and we had not ended on a good note when we had parted last.
Nine months ago, he had been new to the world of mercenary work, but setting eyes on him again so unexpectedly and seeing the impact that this line of work had had on him, had left my throat dry… and other regions soaking wet, and not because we had just been swimming.
I didn't know how it was humanly possible, then again considering what we were it didn't matter if it was humanly possible, but he seemed to have gained more muscle, his shoulder and back broader. It had sent a chill down my back when I first laid eyes on him. Then he had turned to look at me. He had let his beard grow, obscuring his good-natured-boy-scout features. His hair was darker and longer, and he hadn't given me that friendly open smile that he had worn when I first met him.
For a second, his sky-blue eyes flashed a darker shade, but then he nodded at me in way of greeting and turned away.
Now I could feel his eyes on me again as I looked around the dense tropical forest. Not sensing anything unusual, I turned back and caught his gaze. Dark and intense. It made my lower belly quiver, and my heart skip a beat, but I held his gaze for a second longer before I raised and eyebrow at him.
He responded by shaking his head once and signaling for us to continue.
I noticed now that his mind was closed to me. It always had been. However, when we had first met and had gone on that one disastrous date, it had been easy to read him, as it was his nature to project his feelings so openly.
Now I felt nothing from him, he was like a ten-inch thick, reinforced steel wall. For a second, I wondered if I was powerful enough to crack his defenses. After all, sometimes all it took was an accidental touch to be able to read someone like a book, but that was probably for the best if I stayed well away from Rogers.
I wasn't a masochist and I didn't need to know how disappointed he was to be working with me again.
The yelp that came out of my mouth as the first bullet clipped my shoulder surprised even me. I should have been paying more attention, I shouldn't have been lost in thought.
More than a dozen soldiers came rushing out from an invisible wall that had been disguised as trees.
I rolled on to the moist ground searching for cover as Rogers did the same. I heard him grunt behind me as a bullet hit him.
"Shit!" I breathed as a second bullet buried itself on right my side. I could feel the sting from the open wounds and the warm wetness of my blood as it ran.
Bullets flew around us, hitting trees and rocks as we pushed ourselves behind the fallen log we had just stopped at. I ignored the pain as the wounds had begun to heal.
"Crimson, a distraction!" Besides me, Rogers deployed a pair of black shields that had been strapped to his sides.
"Working on it." I said through gritted teeth as I concentrated and gathered my strength and power, feeling a bit off.
The ground shook under us. Not what I had aimed for…
The instant I realized it hadn't been me, was the second a metal cell sprang around us.
Suddenly surrounded by darkness, and feeling more and more disoriented, I fell to my side with a grunt. The bullets had probably been tinged with something.
"There was something in those bullets." Rogers grunted besides me.
The soldiers were yelling something in Portuguese, which I wasn't fluent at, but I understood some of what they were saying.
"Their saying something like, drop it in and move them in." I warned Rogers as I picked myself up, feeling around the debris for something steady.
Someone had climbed the metal cage and after the sound of metal scraping against metal, a small barred window was opened at the ceiling of the cage. A flashlight in hand, a faceless soldier dropped something in, and closed the window quickly.
"Hold your breath!" Rogers yelled, kicking the small device I recognized as a gas bomb, and pushed me against the opposite corner covering me with his body as the device popped releasing its contents with a hiss.
I shifted quickly, pulling in Rogers closer to me, so that his face was covered against my uninjured shoulder as I covered my face at the crook of my elbow.
Just in case the gas could burn our exposed flesh, I told myself…
I could hold my breath for quite a while, as I was able to slow down my metabolism enough to appear dead, but it was limited to twenty-six minutes before I truly passed out. I knew Rogers could do the same, but probably for far longer than me, after all, he had been under complete metabolic shut-down for years when he had been found.
I wasn't as strong as that, as it was, it was gonna be difficult to slow down my metabolism, considering my own mutant biology was fighting to clean up my system from whatever poison the bullets had introduced, as well as heal the wounds. I would have to fight against my own nature to stay alive. So it was either bleed to death, or breathe in whatever poison was surrounding us, tough choice, considering I could feel the gas stinging the open wounds. The one on my left side, right under the rib cage, had embedded itself deep and would have to be pried out before the healing process could begin, that one hurt the most.
The metal cage shifted violently, sending us both on to our sides as we were moved. He still held me close and steady as the cage rocked and shook against the ground.
Last time I had been this close to him, it had been under entirely different circumstances. Last time I had been this close to him, I had been able to read his mind… and he had been disappointed and revolted by the idea of my being so close to him. A painful pang made my heart begin to race.
Shit. I thought to myself. The pity party had to stop. My life literally depended on it...
The cage came to a sudden stop, pushing me against the side wall, but Rogers had somehow managed not to squeeze me against it. There was some yelling outside of the cage and I moved my hand to the exposed flesh on his forearm.
Skin to skin contact. I concentrated although it made my foggy head hurt, but I pushed the thought on to his mind.
Do you have a plan? I asked, knowing he would be devising some sort of strategy.
Pretend… poison clears… ready...
I was really trying to concentrate, but the lack of oxygen, the poison still running through my system, and the effort to slow everything down was just too much for my hazy mind.
I did NOT get that… I pushed through.
I felt his hand move to my waist, he pressed gently, tearing a small moan from my throat. The need to exhale and take a few calming breaths had me clenching my teeth and digging my nails on Rogers forearm, not that he even flinched.
...still bleeding? I could hear the question in his mind.
I was gonna try to explain, but in that instant, the cage rattled around us, opening up and sending me to my back as the wall behind me leveled off. Although the brightness of our new location had me screwing my eyes even tighter, I remained still as Rogers pushed his words though.
Safe… breathe…
I did not breathe in, questioning whether the thought had been positive or whether it had been a warning not to breathe, but when I felt him flex his forearm under my grip, I took it as a positive sign.
I breathed in deep, making myself cough violently in the process, my head swirling with dizziness and pain.
He sat next to me, lifting me slightly and setting my head on his lap. Once my head had stopped spinning, I slowly pried my eyes open.
We were inside a large prison carved out of volcanic rock, various lights had been connected to the roof above us, about fifteen to twenty feet high. The entrance was a solid metal wall, about four feet above the ground, and thick metal bars, with no more than two inches of space between them. Two guards held the muzzles of their rifles between the metal bars, pointed at us.
"Drop your weapons." One of them screamed loudly in a very thick accent. "Drop your weapons or we shoot you!"
Rogers pushed his shields away and lifted his arms up. "That's all I got."
I sat up slowly, with the help of Rogers, unstrapping the knife sheathed against my thigh and behind my back and lifting up my arms.
"Eu tenho nada mais." I tried a little bit of my bad Portuguese.
"Levante-se!" They ordered, along with some more orders that I did not understand.
"They want us to stand up." I said to Rogers, who thankfully helped me up and remained by my side to keep me steady. Both guards barked orders in Portuguese once more.
"Espera, espera, eu não entendo muito." I told them I did not understand much as I swayed on my feet.
"Walk here!" One of them yelled. "Lentamente!" He warned as we both began walking towards them.
Still keeping contact with Rogers, and more steady now, I pushed the telepathic message.
If we can get close enough, I'll hit them with a mental blast, just stay away from rifles. I warned.
His grip tightened around my arm and even though I wasn't looking at him directly, I could see his brow furrow.
No. The thought was hard and clear. I need to know where the rest of the soldiers are, plus you're not stable enough for that.
I almost rolled my eyes.
I have enough to at least knock them out, are you recovered enough to bend the muzzles of their rifles? I asked, but before I got an answer a cold mirthless laugh and a voice that sent chills down my spine came from the left side of the bars.
"That's close enough." A tall, thin man, dressed in an impeccable white tailored suit walked in front of the metal bars. His eyes were dark almost black, like the long hair he pulled back into a ponytail. His nose was long and upturned, and a perfectly trimmed goatee framed long thing lips that were twisted into a smirk.
El Carnicero.
The Butcher.
Known throughout all of Latin America as the most sadistic and bloodthirsty of mutant rehabilitators, he was known for his barbaric practices of dissecting and butchering any mutants who were unlucky enough to cross his path.
I swallowed hard as he looked me up and down, licking his lips as he caught my eyes.
"What do we have here?" He begun in that slick slightly accented voice. "None other than, La Sombra Escarlata."
I had tried not to shiver, but the way he pronounced my alias, combined with the events of the night, made my stomach sink and my muscles shiver with fear.
"Oh yes, I know about you, Señorita Rojas." Having him call me by my actual last name, made me even more upset, and it was difficult not showing it. "And who do we have here?" He turned his gaze to Rogers who was clenching his fists and glaring at the slim man. "Why, it's none other than the fugitive Captain America." He licked his lips again and put his chin to the junction of his thumb and forefinger. "Doing a service to his name and actually caring for the whole continent instead of only one country, is it?"
"Look, I don't know who you are, but…"
El Carnicero cut in by laughing loudly, dramatically slapping his hand to his thigh and bending over in mirthless amusement.
He sighed as he straightened himself and cleaned a tear from the side of his eye before he spoke again.
"No, of course you wouldn't know me, Mr. Rogers." Putting a flat hand to his temple in a mocking salute, he introduced himself. "My name is Andres Jacubovich or as your cute friend, the Crimson Shadow," he added mockingly, " would know me, El Carnicero. You can ask her what that means."
"The Butcher." Rogers supplied for himself. " Yea, I've heard of you."
"Oh what an honor!" The butcher put a hand to his chest. "But you'll have to excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to." He pulled a couple of black leather gloves from the inside of his suit pocket and slipped them on, as a woman in a white lab coat, walked next to him and handed him a small metal box the size of a wallet."But don't worry, I will come back and chat with you, Mr. Rogers. I'm very interested in finding out how my special cocktail of chemicals to tame mutants is affecting you, sir." He gave a delighted giggle. "We'll be dissecting that later." He pressed a button on the small metal device, and the vessel, our target for this mission, glided across the floor, three guards flanking it on either side.
It was a large black metal box, the size of a coffin. It looked as if it was a solid piece of metal, but our intelligence provided it carried something important inside. The Butcher was moving it off island it seemed. From our spot in the cell, I could see part of a big ship waiting to the side.
He turned to the woman, gave her instructions in Spanish, telling her to gas us once more. When the woman in the the white coat expressed her concern as to the amount of gas and how we probably wouldn't survive it. The butcher laughed, corrected the woman in the lab coat by saying I probably wouldn't survive it, but that it didn't matter, he wanted the Captain weak.
"Lo siento, linda." He said to me and blew me a kiss. "But I've studied many like you already."
I glared at him, gathered all my strength and hit him with the strongest mental blast I could manage. He grunted and fell straight back on to the floor, dirtying his pristine suit with dirt and blood that began pouring out of his nostrils as his assistant and soldiers pulled him to his feet.
I smirked at him, it didn't matter that I had to lean all my weight on to Rogers so I wouldn't fall, it didn't matter that the wounds on my body had begun trickling with blood once more. It was too delighted to see him angry as he unsteadly walked back towards the prison bars.
He pressed some unseen button outside of the cage, and the lights above us turned red, an alarm blaring as a solid glass barrier began to slide from above the metal bars.
"Make it, two-hundred psi." The Butcher said to his assistant although he did not turn to look at her. "And pump in toxin twelve and eighteen. I want her to writhe in pain for hours before she dies."
Having nothing else left inside of me, I lifted my hand and flipped him off before he turned.
My knees collapsed under me, and as he set me down gently, Rogers moved quickly and kicked one of his shields under the sliding glass wall. The shield expanded, effectively cracking the glass wall in a perfect line up to the top.
"Why didn't anyone take their weapons?" The Butcher had turned around and began screaming hysterically. "Gas them now! Kill them before they try to get out!"
I heard the way his assistant questioned him, telling him that the gas would just leak out and would kill them all, and all I could do was smile.
It was a small sort of accomplishment, to push someone to hysterics, especially someone who held so much power against you.
"Fine, I'll do it myself." The Butcher became more and more frantic, especially after Rogers picked up his other shield and began smashing against the cracking glass.
I could hear another alarm blaring, and the automatic system from the cell calling for an error, as the gas would not be deployed unless the glass door was sealed shut.
"Fuck!" The Butcher screamed and signaled to his soldiers. "Shoot them! SHOOT THEM!" He continued screaming after the soldiers questioned the irrational thought, telling him the bullets would no doubt ricochet off the metal and glass wall.
He screamed for his assistant, who handed him the small metal box. Pulling a small handgun out of a side holster, he shot one of his soldiers and screamed at the other ones to shoot, while yelling at another one to open the dome and load the cargo in to go.
One of his soldiers had enough intelligence, or fear, to run up to our prison cell and push the button to retract the crumbling glass door.
Rogers stopped hitting it, grabbed the shield on the floor and carried me to the farthest side of the cell and shielded me with his body and shields as the glass panel disappeared.
"How are you feeling, Bryss?" My heart skipped a beat as he pronounced my name, and had I felt better, I would have kissed that handsome face, but I could only shake my head as I heard the soldiers approach the metal doors, one of them barking out orders to fire at his command.
I buried my face closer to Rogers' chest, and shut my eyes tight, praying that at least Rogers made it out alive.
The soldier barking out orders was about to give the signal, when the ground shook. I yelped and held tightly around Steve's torso as the cave was plunged into complete darkness after the shaking subsided.
"Was that you?" Rogers asked just as frantic shouting and screams of pain rang out.
"No." I said quietly as another quake shook the ground, raining rocky debris over us.
I could hear the soldiers outside the shouting and shooting their rifles in the darkness. Foreign growls from what I thought were dogs and screams and shouts. The ground shook again, more violently this time as the unseen fight raged on outside of our cell.
"If we don't try to get out we're gonna get killed by falling rocks!" Steve said as he moved and produced a flare, which he threw toward the metal door, which had bent and broken metal bars now. We moved closer.
The fight raged on outside, as bright lights coming from the ship that was now airborne, shone over the scattered bodies of soldiers as well as two people dressed in all white, their faces covered by white, faceless masks. Two large dogs, as large as the two people dressed in white, were attacking the few soldiers left over as both the people in white began a sort of kata in unison.
A bright light shone under the ship, where The Butcher stood next to the vessel as he attempted to bring it up into the slowly rising ship. The dome of the cave had opened and he was trying to make his escape.
As both figures in white continued their kata, the ground under us and above us shook once more. A large rock fell from the top of the cave, hitting and destabilizing the ship and managing to topple the metal box from the platform and hook.
Both dogs ran and jumped up to slow the fall of the black box, one of them using his body to break its fall. The Butcher managed to grip on to the cable and was pulled in as the ship which continued its course and flew out of the cave.
As both of the white clad warriors ran towards the vessel, Steve began pulling at the broken metal bars creating a wide enough gap for him to climb out and help me do the same.
Steve moved to carry me, but I shook my head.
"I'm feeling better." I lied as we watched both figures attempting to open the black box. I knew I wasn't ready for any type of fight, but the job was and extraction and recovery, and it still needed to get done. "Ready?" I asked Steve who had strapped his shields to his forearms once more.
"I think it'd be best to retreat. We can't take them on in our condition." He signaled towards an open gateway which seemed to lead towards a lab. "We might find a way out this way."
"Maybe…" I stood my ground as he took a few steps towards the open door. I wasn't the type to just walk out on a job, but seeing as these two people had both taken on the whole compound and had successfully killed so many soldiers, it was for the best to just walk away.
Before I turned away, I noticed they had managed to open the black box, and were carefully pulling off the lid. I was curious as to what was in the box, and while still watching, I kicked over one of the metal bars which made a loud clanking sound and caught the dogs' attention. They crouched down and growled as one of the figures turned to look at us.
The other one had taken off her mask, but I could see it was a woman who was pulling out a young kid from the metal box, caressing his cheeks and speaking gently to him as she did so.
I lifted my arms up as Steve stepped close to me and did the same.
"We mean you no harm." He said out loud but the dogs were taking a few steps forward. "I'm not gonna lie, we were paid to retrieve the box." Steve confessed which made me cringe, but at the same time made me feel better that he had not changed since I had first met him. "But we're walking away now, we mean you no harm."
It seemed like forever before the other person in white lifted an arm and whistled for the dogs to stop. They both sat back, but still looked at us like we would make a tasty snack.
"You may go." She said, and I was again surprised by how young she sounded.
I could see the other young woman had managed to rouse the boy from his slumber, but he looked a bit agitated as she spoke to him.
"It's ok Reno, it's ok." She was telling the young kid who seemed scared and confused. "It's me, Emmie, your big sis, do you remember me?"
The kid looked around, still scared, and flinched when the girl, Emmie, tried to touch his hand.
"Look, look, Sabbie is also here, Reno. Do you see Sabbie?" The other girl had pulled off her mask and walked to the other side of the box.
"Hey Ren-Ren." She said in a soothing voice. "It's ok, kiddo, we're here."
But I could feel that everything wasn't ok. The poor kid was fighting to block his mind from the familiarity he felt towards them. The Butcher had probably used his memories of his sisters to torture him, to play with his mind.
I could read his wish to stop this dream, to stop this memory or this nightmare. He wasn't sure it was real. He couldn't bring himself to trust, because of what it would mean if it wasn't real.
"Look, Ren-Ren, we also brought Tig and Val with us."
The dogs were practically wagging their tails, but at the sight of them, the boy began to scream. A loud, piercing scream that made the ground shake and the cave begin to collapse.
"Damn it…" I cursed under my breath as I sort of jogged towards them.
I didn't care about the rocks falling around us, or the fact that Steve had grabbed my arm and was trying to pull me away. I could help this boy, I could help him find a way to define reality and not be tricked again.
I gathered my power and pushed the feeling into his mind. The thread of truth and reality, so he could always hang on to it and know.
But it didn't work…
My body was too weak, my energy thoroughly depleted. The boy took it as an attack, stopped screaming, and zeroed in on me.
One look into his hypnotic orange eyes and I had been plunged into a nightmare world that had seemed to last for years. Reality crumbled around me, just as the rocks that were falling inside the cave, and I lost hold on the thread of reality.
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