Title: Of the Bonds Forged in Fire
Summary: Steve Rogers followed Strike Team Delta on a seemingly routine mission. But it turns out to be anything but, as the three Avengers are plunged into a fight for their lives and Steve will know what it truly means to be a SHIELD agent and partners. Set after 'Avengers' but before 'Winter Soldier'
Chapter title: Your Flaws and My Flaws They Lie There Hand in Hand
Author's Note: This is the beginning of the end my friends! We are almost at road's end by now with only one more chapter to go. As always I would like to thank all those who have showed their support of the last chapter! Enjoy this one! :-)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. This is written purely for entertainment purposes and any character you might recognize are not mine.
The cargo hold of the SHIELD jet was filled with a tense silence and the only sound that could be heard was the low rumbling of the plane engines as they soared through the sky.
Steve was eyeing every single agent that the jet held with suspicion and dread and just waiting for one of them to make a move. Natasha had filled him in on Clint's words; that there was a mole of Novotny's inside of SHIELD. And Steve had been frightened because he had already radioed in for help on one of the satellite radios from the kitchen cabinet and he wondered if he had just given away their position to the enemy.
Out here in the outskirts of town, they had nowhere to run or hide. Natasha seemed to have the same thought, as she had packed all of their bags, along with as much medical supplies that could fit, and stuffed them under the table Barton was still lying on top of. All of their weapons had been collected to be within arm's reach in case they needed it. And they had anxiously waited.
But no hostiles came knocking on their door.
Instead there was only the sound of the SHIELD jet discreetly landing on the flat terrain outside and soon they were escorted towards the plane, on their way back to SHIELD base in Washington. Clint had been carefully placed on a stretcher, wrapped in a thick orange blanket and secured on the plane deck and Natasha hadn't left his side for a second.
Steve suspected she wouldn't normally be this clingy, especially since it looked like he would actually make it now, but if there was a traitor in SHIELD and if that person would be on board this plane, the Russian spy didn't want to take any chances. She sat next to the stretcher now by Clint's head and stared off into space. Even though she gave off the vibe of a tired spy heading home, Steve knew her whole body was tense and though her eyes weren't visibly following every movement, she knew exactly where every single person was.
But Captain America himself let his eyes wander across the cabin and the small crew of two pilots and a paramedic and openly wore his concern of the situation. For all the agents knew, he had just been through 24 hours of extreme pressure and was still a little jumpy about the whole thing. But he still felt the pressure and doubted it would go away any time soon.
But the flight occurred without incident. Hours later they landed on the SHIELD tarmac and Clint was rolled away towards the infirmary, the archer completely oblivious to what was occurring around him. Natasha followed behind, sure to follow wherever they took him, and Steve found himself uselessly standing on the tarmac, clutching his bag awkwardly. He wasn't quite sure where he should go. He wanted to know how Clint was doing, he wanted to go to his apartment to change and shower and most important, sleep. But he also didn't want to leave without telling Fury about the traitor, to find the mole and neutralize him before he did any more damage. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to relax properly before that happened. While he stood there alone, musing his options, Natasha stopped ahead and spun on her heel to face him.
At his questioning stare, she smirked at him and twitched her red head towards the double doors Clint had disappeared through. It was a gesture to follow.
He gladly did.
Natasha had disappeared on him hours later. They sat together in the medical wing, silent and waiting. No matter how hard Steve tried, he couldn't get a single word out of the assassin sitting stiffly next to him and after a few failed attempts he had given up completely.
He denied any attempts the nurses made to check on his arm. It had stopped bleeding a long time ago and was barely anything more than a small scratch. Captain America healed fast and all of his injuries were just minor ignorable inconveniences by now.
They had been escorted to Barton's room some hours later. The archer would eventually make a full recovery once the knife wound healed. It had been touch and go a few times but the work Natasha had done definitely saved his life. She hardly seemed fazed by that fact. Steve might not have expected her to be jumping about happily or hugging the grey-haired doctor with a thank you flowing over her lips, but he at least expected some kind of reaction out of her, something to show that she was relieved. Instead she had only nodded like she hadn't had her hands deep into Clint's chest and that they hadn't almost lost him out there in that safe house. Like it wasn't anything special.
He found himself wondering if perhaps for those two mysterious assassins it wasn't anymore. And that thought was kind of a frightening prospect.
But the captain did get to see what he suspected what a rare sight of the Russian. Clint was lying on the bed, his head propped by a fluffed pillow, oblivious to the rest of the world. Romanoff had simply walked into the room and grabbed a hold of his limp hand and just held it for a few minutes, her eyes studying his sleeping face. Steve wondered to himself how many times he had to feel like he intruded on a private moment with these two.
Natasha had left shortly after that, with a brief look at into Steve's eyes and the words: "If anyone but me, Fury or a trustworthy-looking doctor tries to get into this room you deny them access, understand?"
Before he could ask what defined a 'trustworthy-looking' doctor, she had fled out the open door, the medical staff, visitors and security parting through the middle for her as she strode down the hall. He had been left, standing awkwardly in the doorway, halfway in and halfway out.
And that's when it dawned upon him. She had left Clint in his care. She had entrusted him with the duty of protecting the archer while she was away. He knew how much that meant and how much trust it needed. And he would gladly show he was worthy of it.
So he fully entered and sat down on the poorly padded chair by Clint's bedside and kept a vigilant eye over the archer.
Though he knew he shouldn't have, Steve found his mind drifting off as the events of the past few days caught up. He was tired and hadn't slept since the whole ruckus occurred. His body was spent and his head was heavy and filled with all the obscure images he had experienced in Slovakia.
He forced himself to stay awake and not to fall asleep, but he still zoned out completely and let his thoughts wander.
Which was why, when the sound of a manila folder hitting the small portable table over Clint's feet with a mute slap, the captain jumped in his seat and jerked into awareness. He found himself staring at Natasha standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed and an amused look on her face.
"George Stein."
Steve was still trying to adjust his muddled, tired mind into thinking properly and had no idea what the red-headed assassin was talking about. "What?"
"The little weasel that sold us out," she explained, nodding her head towards the folder. "Novotny transferred 50.000 dollars to an off-shore account belonging to Stein. Presumably to feed him intel about SHIELD's movement on his turf."
"Who is he?" Steve asked and pulled the folder onto his lap to open it.
"A nobody. He works on the command bridge as a technician. That little bastard managed to worm his way through the ranks so that when Novotny finally was on our radar he could warn him before we came. How he managed to hide his tracks up until now, we can only guess. Fury's in interrogation with him now. It won't be long before we know all his dirty little secrets."
Steve listened carefully as she talked while he examined all the contents of the folder, including a SHIELD profile photo of a scruffy-looking, pudgy little man with a pair of clear, round spectacles that had fallen down his nose.
"What's gonna happen to him?" he asked, looking up.
"That traitor will be charged with treason and won't be seeing the sky again." The poison in her words was clear as was the hardness in her eyes.
"Sounds harsh."
"His cooperation with that scum of a drug dealer nearly cost all of us our lives," Natasha said. Her voice had changed to a more nonchalant tone. Her words were riddled with hate, but she said so casually like they were only discussing opinions on a political matter. "This is his punishment."
"Was he in money problems?"
"Presumably. We're checking all of his bank statements right now. But it's not gonna change anything."
"Shouldn't we dig a little into why he did it? What his motives are?" Steve inquired further. Just because the evidence was piling up on if he did it didn't mean why he did it suddenly was thrown out the window.
"Right now, the motive doesn't matter, Rogers."
Steve threw the thin folder down onto the table again with more force than was probably necessary. "I say it does."
"If you want to survive in this business, you gotta stop with wanting to sit down for a chat about life stories. Take action first or you'll end up getting killed."
"Is this another lecture?" Steve felt his anger rising. Did they really see him as such a boy scout? "Just because I don't want to shoot first and ask later, doesn't mean I want to hold hands with every terrorist we get our hands on."
Natasha was about to answer, but before she could utter another word, a rough and low voice interrupted her and both of their eyes were directed to the bed and the person in it, they had completely forgotten was even there.
"Could you guys keep your voice down?"
TBC