For weeks now, the Avengers have been scouting the Canadian wilderness for Agent Coulson, since it had been said by Director Fury that he was still alive. Everyone assumes Nick Fury has died... all except the Avengers, and Agent Coulson. As of recently, Fury had been contacted by Agent Coulson, who had confirmed agents of shield have gone over to HYDRA. All except his team. Now, Steve Rogers has been ordered by Fury to gather the Avengers for yet another detect-and-destroy mission.
Tony Stark hikes up the icy hill, the grass damp and frozen with fresh powder. "Are we almost there? Because I was in the middle of reconstructing my tower when you called and said, and I quote; 'Agent Coulson is alive.'"
Steve sighs as he pushes through wet icy marsh, all the while holding tightly to his shield. "I know. I did, and he is."
Tony tilts his head as he stares at Steve through squinted eyes. "Well then, where is he, cap? Because all I've found so far is wet, icy grass that goes on for miles and miles, along with pine trees coated in fresh powder that seem to never end."
Natasha releases a sigh as she passes Tony. "Relax Stark, I'm sure Rogers knows what he's doing."
Tony nods, frowning. "Yes, I'm sure he knows what HE's doing, but does he know what he's suppose to do?"
Bruce stops next to Tony, breathing heavily and squinting as he peers through the cold thick fog. "Look, I've no doubt Steve is under orders. But my question is, who's?"
Steve stops, and turns on his heel. "I told you. Fury's."
Bruce nods. "Yes, but I mean who's. As in, HYDRA's, or SHIELD's? I mean, sure, Fury could've ordered you to search the icy forests of Canada and simply told you it was a search and rescue mission for the one person we thought was dead, and are now told otherwise. But, what if he's just sending us on our merry way into HYDRA's headquarters?"
Steve looks from Bruce to Natasha. She shares his gaze if only for a second before averting her eyes. "You saying," Steve exhales a sharp breath. His lungs ache as he draws a deep breath, inhaling the cold Canada air. "We've been set up?"
Bruce exchanges a look with Tony, who then looks to Clint. He stares at Steve, but doesn't say a word. In his mind, he's keeping the idea open. But in Steve's, he's already answered a question he was never even asked.
They continue to push through as the wind grows harsher. Finally, after walking through cold grass, and icy winds, they've reached a lake that has frozen over.
Steve stops just inches from the frozen waters. As his eyes scan the surface, he can see images of that moment when he'd piloted that jet into the frozen ocean flash before his eyes. He can hear the jet's engines roaring as he tries to pilot the aircraft straight into the ice. He can suddenly feel the shaking of the craft as he grips tightly to its controls.
"You know, I still don't know how to dance."
Steve's eyes begin to sting as he focuses all his attention on that dreadful moment.
"I'll show you how. Just be there."
His fists ball and the leather of his shield's strap begins to crack.
"We'll have the band play something slow."
His pulse quickens as he begins to see a ghost of the scene happen before him. Replaying it in his head like a movie on rewind.
"I'd hate to step on your-"
And like he was experiencing the crash all over again, he drops to his knees. His shield scrapes the ice as he presses both his palms to steady himself. He releases short breaths as he stares into the ice, his whole body trembling. He can feel his chest closing in, restricting him from breathing, and yet he still can.
"Steve." He feels a small hand grasp his shoulder. "Steve."
Her worried voice snaps him back into reality as her face comes into view. He turns his head ever so slowly to steal a glance, his neck feeling at any moment it could crack like an icicle and his throat feeling like it's about to close up at the slightest movement. "Natasha," He says through clenched teeth, his throat aggravated by the name he fights to hold in.
Her fingers brush the hairs on the back of his neck, her palm pressed to it. "Steve. It's alright." She cups the side of his face, turning his head to look at her. "I'm right here. I promise. You'll be fine."
He holds his breath, every muscle in his body now tense.
As Natasha tries to console Steve, Tony notices a hairline fracture spreading throughout the ice like a spider web being woven by Steve's shield. "Uh, guys."
Bruce follows Tony's gaze down to the slowly cracking ice, as does Clint's, and soon... Natasha's. Instead of alarming Steve with a shout, she continues to draw circles with her palm on Steve's back. "It's, it's gonna be okay Steve." Though sporting a calm front, her voice starts to crack. Steve apparently notices, and focuses on her with worried eyes.
Bruce takes a step closer, and Steve suddenly feels the ice shift. He follows the lines that run along the ice, following the growing lines until his gaze stops at his shield where the fractures in the ice seem to start. As soon as he turns, pressing his right knee to the ice and lifting his left knee off of it, the ice parts and he falls in.
"Steve!" Natasha shouts as she watches him sink further into the icy waters below.
"Alright, everyone back!" Tony shouts, waving his arms behind him. He, Bruce and Clint step back, but Natasha fights back tears, swallows though her throat feels tight, and with one last breath of the cold icy winds that bite at her lungs, she dives into the icy waters.
"Natasha!" Clint shouts, stepping forward. Bruce holds him back with one arm, and shakes his head as his eyes focus on the icy formations that begin to drift further apart.
In the cold Canadian waters, Steve flails his arms and legs in a panic. His eyes are closed as he gurgles silent helps that only form bubbles instead of words. Natasha swims down into the icy darkness, her only light and way of finding Steve, the glint of the overcast afternoon sky off of his star spangled American flag shield. Though the water is freezing, she presses the fact to the back of her mind and presses on. Though her lungs ache from the breath that she holds in so desperately it feels like a knife cutting through her chest, she keeps it held behind cringed teeth.
When she finally finds Steve, he seems to be unconscious, maybe the cold waters have strained his muscles and rendered him weary because she knows he's strong enough to hold his breath for a while. Seventy years to be exact.
She grips a hold of the strap of his uniform, and pulls him up. His whole body glides along the currents, making it easier on Natasha as she swims to the surface while lugging Captain America along.
With one trembling hand, Natasha grips onto the ice sheet of whatever's left of the glacier, pulling herself up. Clint runs to her side, and takes her trembling hand in his, pulling the rest of her onto the surface. When she's pulled out of the water, so is Steve.
Though the icy cold of the howling wind bites at her wet skin, and her sopping wet winter coat only seems to make matters worse, chilling her to the bone, she sits up. Her eyes scan the ice for Steve, and when her gaze falls on the trembling super soldier, she runs to his side. "St-St-Steve."
He draws short breaths through clenched teeth, and pulls his balled fists up to his throat as if to tighten the collar of an imaginary coat. Natasha pushes a strand of hair matted to his forehead aside. "Y-you-you s-s-saved me."
She smiles, releasing short breaths. "You-you said you trust-ed me t-to. I-I couldn't let you down."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he forces the muscles in his face to smile.
Tony releases a loud sigh. "Well, if anyone else feels like freezing to death, may I suggest we at least trudge further in hopes of finding a Starbucks?" Clint releases a short breath through his nostrils, Bruce just smiles and turns away. Tony scans each of their faces until his gaze falls on Steve. "What do you say, cap? Spend another seventy years on ice, or try and find something out here before we all get frostbite?"
Steve steals a glance at Natasha. Though she smiles, worry had never left her eyes. But that suffocating feeling of being frozen into an ice cube like Bucky once was has never left him either, nor will it. Ever.
He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and works on slowing his panting. "Let's do it." He inhales a sharp breath, the icy air nearly freezing his lungs. "March forward, I mean. Not, freeze to death."
"Or at least to seventy years, anyway." adds Clint, earning a glare from Natasha, but a pained chuckle from Steve.
Tony offers Steve his hand. Trembling, he forces his fist open, and grabs onto it. "Then lead us foward... capsicle."