CHAPTER TEN

For never standing by your side

Her eyes were closed; occasionally Steve caught a flutter of movement beneath her eyelids. The whole room had an unnatural stillness to it that made his skin crawl. She seemed far too quiet for something good to be going on with her. Even the hallways outside seemed dreadfully quiet. His worried gaze slid over the length of her exposed body, eyes tracing lines of dried blood that dripped down her sides, her arms, her legs, her face, down the table and onto the floor. It was all he could do to keep from curling over and heaving out what little was in his stomach. For the most part, Tegan resembled a raw slab of meat more than she did a human with skin. Beneath the dried blood and exposed muscles, it was hard to tell if there was any skin left on her. His eyes traveled down one of her arms that drooped over the side of the table, her fingers spread slightly apart.

At first, he thought that the tips were just bloody but as he leaned closer to look, horror welled up as he realized that she was missing all of her nails. She did not seem to be wearing any clothing to keep her appearance 'decent' (not that torture was a time to worry about whether or not one had the bare necessities covered), and her legs were splayed in an awkward position. It took Steve a while to even determine she was alive, he swallowed hard once or twice as he first suspected that she was dead, but upon closer inspection he caught a faint, irregular rise and fall of her chest. The dread that had welled up inside of him upon his first realization of her having not been in the best of shape and thinking that she was dead slowly dissipated with this knowledge.

While there was no doubt in his mind that Steve did not care for the woman when she was conscious and running her mouth, with the state she was in and after all she'd clearly gone through he was going to pretty much risk his life to get her out of here. In the back of his mind he knew already that it was going to be a hell of a lot harder getting out than it'd been getting in. By now, forces had plenty of time to gather, weapons were hot and ready to go and there was no doubt in his mind that if Erik was around, he had been notified and was probably on his way to whatever room they were in. With the realization of the direness of the situation setting in and overriding his sickened shock that'd set in when he first stumbled upon Tegan, he looked around the room frantically for something, anything, to cover her up.

Stepping closer to where she lay, he hovered over her, looking around down on the opposite side of the table. He was not expecting her eyes to fly open and for a soul-shattering screech to leave her gaping mouth. Whatever he'd done, clearly she was not as out of it as he had first thought. At the loud noise, he snapped up in surprise and jumped back quickly. From what he could tell, Tegan was not really looking at anything in particular, and it took him a moment to realize that she wasn't screaming from fear of him, but rather the pain; or that's what he gathered. Looking around the room frantically, he did not see anything that could help her out, or even cover her up; not that he imagined a rough material on the sensitive exposed muscles that'd been uncovered would be much more comfortable than the state that she was in.

Beating back the surprise and admitting that she'd caught him off guard, Steve moved back to where Tegan was screaming, reaching out a steady hand he went to touch her just to try to calm her down and bring her mind back down, but as he looked at her he suddenly began to doubt that he could touch her in any place without bringing pain. He quickly retracted his hand back and gripped the edge of the metal table. Leaning over Tegan and putting his face as close to hers as possible he spoke loudly over her shrieks,

"Tegan! Tegan! It's ok, it's just Steve. Hey…hey! I need you to calm down alright? Everything's going to be fine. I'm going to get you out of here, OK?"

For as doubtful as he was about there being a smooth escape for the two, he swallowed his suspicions in order to maintain a calm peace of mind for the tortured woman that needed calm now more than anything. At the sound of his voice, her screaming slowly died down, and her hazel eyes averted their distant stare from the ceiling above her to the face hovering over her. Blind relief and delirium flooded her features as she raised the one arm that'd been pulled from the shackles and reached out to drag her raw fingers across the skin of his face. Her touch was incredibly cold against his skin and he shivered (whether from the physical coldness of her touch or the seemingly metaphorical chill that'd settled in the room he wasn't sure) as she, all the while releasing what looked like a tear or two of happiness, hoarsely asked in a voice that Steve did not recognize as hers,

"St-s-s-Steve?"

He had no feelings for this woman other than the utmost pity, but his heart wrenched at the emotion that he was suddenly seeing from her. For the most part, Steve had found the agent to be extremely difficult to deal with. She had an outer layer of ice that he found to be unnecessary and did not choose to interact with her, as her calloused attitude and sharp words always seemed like she had put up a very poor façade and was hiding something from the world. So to see her so relieved to see him, to see fear flicker in her eyes, to know that she was in pain, he suddenly felt like she was more human; someone that he could connect with. Furrowing his brow in concern he nodded and offered her a reassuring smile as he said,

"Yeah, Steve. Hey, I'm going to find something to put around you, but with the state your body's currently in, I don't think it'll feel very good. I only say this because I'm going to have to keep you from getting frostbite somehow. I'm going to go try to find a blanket or something, OK? I think I have time to do that."

Tegan did not hear much of what he said. Her mind raced and the blood loss made her head light and caused it to spin around like a top. What she did seem to manage to grasp onto was the phrase talking about leaving her. Though she'd already been fairly tense before, it was obvious that the last thing she wanted right now was to be alone and clearly at the thought she drew rigid. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to reach for words but didn't even have the strength to talk. Steve turned his back and started towards the door but froze in his tracks as a ghostly, unearthly wail came from behind him. Snapping around quickly his eyes fell back onto Tegan. Her one arm was outstretched towards him, her fingers curling into the nothingness as she grasped at him, as if trying to hold onto him and keep him there forever. The last thing in this world she wanted at this very moment was to be alone.

Worriedly, he moved back to the table. As he neared, she reached out and grabbed his arm and his skin crawled at the feeling of her raw flesh against his. Looking down at her with a tightly furrowed brow he shook his head and said,

"Tegan, I have to go find something to cover you. It's the middle of winter in Russia, and you're not exactly…" he paused to let his eyes fall across her mangled body. While he had not noticed it when he'd first looked at her, he could see heavy clotting and even new, shiny skin starting to form at the edges of each and every cut on her body. However, far more worried about the fading life before him rather than the strangeness of new skin that would otherwise take weeks to regenerate (if at all), he brushed off the oddity and instead focused on the fact that if he thought to take her out now in the elements in the state she was already in, she would surely die. Tegan scrunched her face up into a contorted look of horror and sorrow as she whispered,

"Please don't leave me."

Steve sucked in a sharp breath of air; the last thing he had planned was leaving this woman here. Gently prying her hand from his arm he leaned over her once more to get a look at the shackle that kept her right arm raised above her head. Surveying the odd angle, his stomach quickly twisted into a series of knots as he realized that her shoulder was dislocated. Her arm hung limply and the area around her shoulder socket was purple and bruised, clearly swollen. Whether Erik had done this or she'd accidentally done it with her struggling, he wasn't sure. What he was sure of, however, was how much harder breaking the chain that kept her arm upright was going to be now with the knowledge of the amount of pain that would certainly burn up her arm with any slight movement to it. Without a key, he had absolutely no hope of getting her out of the chain without causing her any pain. His heart sank as he slowly realized what he was going to have to do.

Straightening up he looked down at Tegan and quietly explained what he was going to have to do in a dark, grave voice, "I've got to get you out of that chain, Tegan. I'm going…I'm going to have to break the chain, and I know only one way how to do it. I know your shoulder's dislocated and I know it's going to hurt like hell, but it's going to be a onetime pain, like ripping off a bandaid."

Tegan seemed to gather what he was about to do, and any fear she'd not wasted simply on being in the compound and the room she was in went towards fearing whatever weapon Steve had that was going to break the chain. Her breathing quickened as she started to quickly repeat the word 'no' over and over again. With each beg, her voice changed flexion and tone. Steve drew into himself to avoid falling prey to the suppliant, sorrowful words coming from her mouth. If he listened, then he'd never do it; and then she'd be stuck here forever, and that was not a part of the plan. He moved away from where Tegan was and slowly drew his shield back over his head. Tegan craned her neck back and shouted loudly in pure panic as he raised his shield up over his head and began to bring it down,

"No, no, no, no! Please, no!"

However, she didn't get much more time to argue and beg him to not do it as he brought the resilient edge of his shield down on the taunt chain. The shock of being struck with the strong metal caused the iron chain that he hit to shatter instantly, leaving Tegan unchained. He could not say such optimistic things for the woman he'd been sent to save. Her arm bent back at a weird angle, as if the chain had been all that had been holding it up at a semi-normal position. It flopped back behind her, and clearly the pain was enough to send her into shock. Her hazel eyes rolled up into the back of her head and suddenly her cry of pain was cut short.

Silence overtook the room, and Steve stood very still. He tried to catch whether or not she was breathing. His heart began to sink as he couldn't see any signs of life. With no other choice but to feel for a pulse, he finally reached forward to press his fingers down in the crevice that formed where her jawbone and neck connected. As if Tegan hadn't been a bag full of horrifying enough surprises, the second he made contact with her skin, he immediately began to feel an out of place burning hatred. It was like a shock of electricity that traveled up his fingers, up his arm and into his heart.

With a surprised yelp, he leapt back from where he stood to stare with wide blue eyes at the unconscious agent. He could not remember having ever felt that sensation before. It was strange, and he fought to shake off the anger, but he did not get much of a chance to clear his head as an amused, familiar voice sounded from behind him,

"She's truly a strange experiment, isn't she?"

Steve wheeled around on his feet to finally come face to face with the bastard that was ruining so many lives, changing so many things, destroying happiness and robbing children of childhood memories of one or both parents. He was a criminal, and while he never abjectly hated anyone, he used the strange fury he'd felt just seconds before as a tool to allow him the ability to absolutely, unequivocally hate Erik Sunderland.

While the star spangled man before him had easily laid waste to his initial guards that he'd sent to stop his path into the compound, Erik felt completely at ease with the American. He might be in the presence of a historical super soldier; the first prototype in genetic engineering. The man that spawned so many different experiments by countless scientists all trying to reproduce the legendary soldier, the man that meant so much to a public people, and yet had so easily fallen into back-story and myth in his disappearance. To Erik, Steve was just another relic that belonged in a museum, not on the battle field. It was like bringing a knife to a gun fight. In a day and age where technology brought success, an outdated technology that'd once been advancement but was now just obsolete was, in Erik's less than humble opinion, the way you lost a war. And obviously the United Forces was losing horribly.

Steve glared angrily at Erik, his chest rising and falling quickly as he let the antagonism completely consume him. Through gritted teeth he hissed,

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Erik was completely at ease with the whole situation. He lazily crossed his arms across his chest and even brought a hand to his hair, running his fingers through it before drawing them away to simply shrug and point out, "she's been through a lot more than any other agent has. Do you not think it is amazing that she has still managed to survive; even after all that I put her through?"

Steve offered the still unconscious Tegan a semi-curious sideways glance before lunging at Erik. The slightly taller German easily stepped to the side and calmly parried any blow Steve threw at him. The two lightly grappled and danced around the room in a flurry of flying fists, singing shields, and sinister smiles. With each and every consecutive fail to connect his curled hand with the side of Erik's face, Steve only fought harder. Usually he had a battle plan, but the residual fury that he'd found from just barely touching Tegan served as a drug, and the farther he fell into it, the angrier he got. He let it sweep him off his feet; he let it make him blindly flail at Erik without much care for how much damage he himself was taking on just for his own attacks.

However, finally after having made more misses than Steve would have cared to admit, he swung his shield right at Erik's head. While most people would have been knocked to the ground and knocked out for perhaps a week or more, Erik simply crumpled to the ground momentarily before rolling over onto his back and grinning up at Steve. He laughed a somewhat deranged laugh as he excitedly shrieked,

"You seem surprised that a mean blow from the edge of your shield has not completely destroyed me!"

Steve did not, for the first time since Erik walked into the room, rise to Erik's poking and taunting. Instead he stood angrily over Erik and grumbled fiercely,

"I'll continue to hit you in the head with it if I have to."

Erik laughed at this and curled his lips into a devious grin, "ooh, the super soldier of the past is threatening me. Come now, Steve. You forget that I trained with you and the silly Avengers for four years of my training at S.H.I.E.L.D. I know how every last one of you acts, and I know how to make you experience pain and horrors that you've yet to experience. I think it should be I threatening you, not the way we have found ourselves at now."

Without further need to hear Erik speak, Steve reared his hand back and brought the flat of his shield down onto the side of Erik's upturned face. He looked down with a somewhat pleased grin as the German slumped down, his eyes lightly shut. However, he did not have much time to gloat, for he quickly remembered why he was here. Slowly, he moved back towards Tegan. At this moment, he realized that he was so underprepared. He didn't even think of how he was going to transport him to the plane waiting area, he didn't think of what kind of state she'd be in when he got here. He'd just been so eager to accept the mission as an excuse to get to kick the ass of a megalomaniac that he had quite honestly almost forgotten the main reason why he had been sent on the mission.

Running out of options and out of time, he stripped himself of his jacket with complete intentions of wrapping Tegan up in it. While it was no blanket, it came down to his mid-thigh, and from what he remembered of Tegan standing up and not strapped to a table, she was rather short compared to him. His jacket would be enough to get her halfway into the Russian wilderness without experiencing any real cold on her part. Sure, Steve would now feel the stinging winds, but he was far more focused on the retrieval and rescue of Tegan Hollis to worry about himself at this point. Gingerly making sure not to graze her skin once more, he tenderly wrapped her safely within his jacket and carefully hoisted her up onto his shoulders like a pack mule carrying a shot deer home from the woods. With the sudden movements, scabs that'd formed on Tegan's wounds broke loose and a new dribble of blood came around and down out her hands and legs. Urgency was setting in and Steve worried that if he didn't leave now, Erik would either wake up and bar their way, or that the gathered forces of whatever HADES soldiers would be too much for him to surmount. Carefully crawling over Erik's limp body he stuck a foot out of the room and finally took the first step towards the dizzying bid for freedom that would eventually lead down to the end of his mission; whether it ended through his ultimate success or untimely demise.

Author's Notes: MAYBE IF I WROTE THINGS NOT AT MIDNIGHT/BEYOND, I WOULDN'T FEEL LIKE I'D JUST WRITTEN A HORRIBLE CHAPTER. I'm seriously too tired to do a thorough author's note. No, you don't understand. I'm writing this with my eyes closed. I'm exhausted. I'm so sorry this came so late D: but thanks for reading/reviewing/favoriting! I promise I'll do better notes tomorrow/go back and read how bad this chapter is and try to fix things.

I do not own any Marvel characters, only the ideas and story are mine.

Story title/chapter titles (c) Five Finger Death Punch (Remember Everything)