Don't Freeze Out
An Agents of SHIELD fanfic by Aisling Yinyr Ngaio
His heart had started thumping dangerously fast the moment the first pistol was cocked. Their contact was dead, and they were alone in hostile territory. Somehow he'd forgotten, partly due to the unflappable nature of his partner, that disputed territories were always on high alert and xenophobic.
Only partially relieved that the crowd merely shoved them into a dark room and tied them up instead of killing them outright, he was left with Ward for ten terrifyingly uncertain minutes, wondering what would become of them, mentally bemoaning the comm-less mission, and focusing all his confusion on the other agent when he finally understood that Ward was asking him about his torture threshold.
But when the boss had ordered them killed on the spot, he froze. Apparently Ward had, for once, been overly optimistic. There wasn't going to be a torture session. These people didn't know who they were, and didn't care, except to get rid of them. Oh god, he was only twenty-six, and already he was about to die, tied up and helpless, in a foreign country, far away from any comfort.
As the henchman lifted his gun, he tried hard not to hyperventilate as he was wont to do. He'd heard that people saw their lives flash before their eyes just before they died, but all he could see was...
Her.
That's right. He'd seen much worse. Been through much worse. Only a week ago, he'd seen her waste away slowly, being eaten alive by something they'd nearly been unable to cure. And then she'd tried to sacrifice herself, in a foolish act of nobility, when she thought all hope was lost. He flashed back to their lives together, all the years, the shared laughter, the frustrated arguments, the jubilant celebrations. All of his important milestones were with her. He remembered the first time they'd been in danger together, tied up on the Bus. Strangely, though her face dominated his inner sight, it was another voice accompanying those memories that gave him focus:
"Hey, don't freeze out. Take a breath. You don't have to come up with the whole solution."
He gathered his thoughts, took a deep breath, and stared up at their assailants with a clearer head. Suddenly they didn't seem so threatening any more, despite the gun pointing at them with clear intent to kill. He'd survived much worse than this, and everything was relative now. He was accompanied by the highly trained specialist of their team, who for all his surly stuffiness, would give his life to protect and save them all. And by god, he would become the man, the agent, who deserved her.
He had to. He would return to her.
One step at a time, right Agent Ward? He recalled more fully their escape planning a month ago, could almost feel the presence of the three ladies, asking him What's first? The immediate threat was the gun, secondly the restraints. Perhaps there was a way he could kill two birds with one stone. After all, despite not understanding Russian, he could understand body language, and football seemed to be as important here as back home (well, Simmons' more than his, but still). Besides, what was the worst that could happen after he'd acted?
Fitz surreptitiously triggered his pocket localised EMP, and the room plunged into darkness with loud groans echoing throughout the small bar. He struggled to contain the smile tugging at his mouth. Now for step two.
- Finis -
