I recoiled when I saw the look in his eyes. His disgust was vivid, I felt it bore into me. I tried to hide my reaction, there was a time such a look would have run off me like water off a ducks back. But things change.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Marshall?" He spat, using my surname for the first time since we started working together. I studied him, trying to stay outwardly calm. I let my breath slow down, steadying my heart beat.
"Everything went according to the briefing, Captain Asshole. Want to keep your saliva to yourself? Or are you going to continue spewing it every time you open your fat head?" His eyes narrowed slightly at my bitter retort.
"Due to your recklessness, half this town is burnt to the ground! Do you have any idea what you did here? You killed every target in the local area, leaving none alive but the civilians, who were completely in the dark about the underground trading that went on here! Do you know what that means?"
I rolled my eyes. Fucking Captain America. Fury stuck us together three months ago, working with hawkeye and Black Widow to hunt down the source of some strange weaponry that was becoming worryingly common amongst thugs and gang members all across the US.
"I don't know, Cap, that no one will be able to sell you more bugs to go up your ass? They were targets. I neutralized them, with no civilian cost. This is a victory!" I could see his fists clench as he processed my words. He looked at me with what now? Pity? Deeper disgust?
"It means, Marshall, that the line of information is dead. No one is left to give us any intel. Fury is going to be-"
"Furious?" I smirked. It was so easy to play with this big, gaudy mascots temper. He almost shook with the rage boiling up inside him. Luckily for me, cap wasn't the kind of guy that hit a lady. I wonder how long it'll be before he decides that my behavior deems me an exception to the rule?
"Joke all you want, but all you've achieved here is chaos and more work for all of us." He shook his head lightly, his brow creasing as he diverted his gaze. Was he that angry that he could no longer stand the sight of my face? That feeling of rising panic returned to my chest. "Go back to the safe house. Clean your wounds. We've got a heck of a lot of burning building to search tomorrow." As he began to stride away he paused and turned his head slightly back to wards me, inhaled, sighed, then carried on more urgently away from me. I couldn't quash the rising sick tingling inside my heart, is this guilt? Shame?
Who cares, I take a deep breath and reach for my mic. "Clint? You there?"
"Don't worry agent, he's just sore you took all the action from him" Hawkeye's voice filled my ears, a smile in his tone. I scanned the surviving rooftops for evidence of the master marksman, but of course there was no sign.
"Where are you, you sneaky bastard? Did you hear all of that?" Am I embarrassed? I hear something like the soft rustle of fabric, barely audible at all, unless you were used to Clint Barton sneaking up on you. I let him think he had the jump on me. Just as he reached to tap my shoulder I dropped to the floor and kicked his legs from under him. The air left his lungs with an "ooft-" as I gracefully stood back up.
"Wha- what was that for?" He spluttered "don't take your domestic out on me!" He recoiled as I moved to kick him in the ass, when I heard another voice.
"Captain Rogers has begun searching the remains of the nearest building, agent Marshall. Wanna tell me what that was about?" Black widows velvet words almost tingled as you heard them.
"Unbridled sexual tension!" Shouted Hawkeye, laughing as he dodged a punch in the arm.
"Cap's just pissed all the time. I caught him looking at that photo in his wallet again before the operation today. Did you hear him call me Marshall?"
"He's letting his personal issues cloud his judgement. I will inform Director Fury. Captain Rogers will have to take some leave before the mission can continue." Natasha Romanov stood in the doorway of a residential block, thanking a large family, made up of kids with huge brown eyes hiding shyly behind their mothers skirts, as she departed. I felt a leap in my heart at the mention of leave, finally, a way out of this shit hole. I head her reciting her I'd number to a shield operator as she approached.
" Fury, this is Romanov. We're returning to base, the team needs some r&r." I could hear Nick Fury's gruff bark from where i stood, black widow gave a slight nod an lowered her hand from her mic. "We're clear for leave. We rest up tonight at the safe house, were leaving at 0500 tomorrow."
I nodded, my eyes drifting over to the red white and blue monstrosity digging through charred brick in search if imaginary evidence. I sighed. "I suppose I had better go get him" I said. Hawkeye smirked at me and I shot him a warning glare as I walked off towards the captain.
I hit the pillow with all my weight letting the cool material settle around my face. I rolled onto my back kicking off my S.H.I.E.L.D issue boots, feeling dried blood peel away from my dirty skin. I glanced down at my ankle. During one of many explosions earlier that night, a piece of shrapnel caught me on the left leg, a short way up my calf. I watched as new blood began to ooze onto the crisp white sheets of the bed.
I pushed my self up onto my elbows and tried to muster up the will to undress, shower and tend my wounds.
I stood watching the hot water pound the bottom of the tub, sending thick tendrils of steam curling up to the cieling.
As I stepped in, the heat seared all the wounds it touched, as well as any skin, eventually rendering every part of me numb. I watched the blood and dirt slough off me, reviewing my pale skin beneath.
Each wound was an angry welt, torn and pouring fresh bright crimson now. I let the heat do its work, scrubbing half heartedly before stepping forward to bring my face under the water.
With my eyes closed, running my hands through my long black hair, I let my mind wander. At first it was the usual. Flash backs to missions long completed. A brief touch on the regrets of my child hood, an embarrassing moment from high school. Then I found myself thinking of Steve. The way he looked at me today. Like I was a target. My heart jumped again and I took a breath.
I thought of how he lifted pieces of burnt building as large as our armored transport vehicle as if lifting a pillow, throwing them casually over his shoulder. I let my eyes follow the curves of his arms as they worked, barely exerting any pressure as he brought a fist down on a brick pile, now rubble and dust. He looked up at me, for a moment his brow in knotted, and his usual look of disappointment, reserved for me only, was replaced by something else. His eyes looked uncertain as they searched my face. I felt my face redden and my pulse quicken.
"Having fun, Joanie?" I snapped out of my half memory with a gasp, covering my body with my hands as I clocked Hawkeye leaning against the sink arms crossed. "Don't mind me! You looked like you were doing just fine on you're own." A smirk
"Get the fuck out Clint!" I made the threat clear in my voice.
"What are you going to do to me agent? Rush me? Try and tackle me? In your current state I wouldn't mind that one bit." The corner of his mouth curled up as I seethed. Is this how Steve felt? Embarrassed? Mind numbingly furious? I shot him my patented death stare.
"You're no fun at all Joanie. I suppose you best get dressed and come down for breakfast. We can see you up while we eat." At the mention of my injuries, they began to prickle. He stalked out of the room, smirk firmly lodged in his slimy face.