Chapter 11 - Someone Else To Find
This chapter takes place during Season 1, episodes 17-18 and during Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Some scenes mirror the originals, some deliberately contain changes, and some are highly abbreviated just to give you a frame of reference.
Rumlow followed Cap and Widow off the side of the bridge while Wilson grabbed the sniper rifle and helped with cover. Rumlow snatched up a couple of guns from the fallen men, then trailed after Cap and the mysterious masked man.
When Cap took off running to distract the man from shooting Romanoff again, Rumlow ducked around the car to end up beside Natasha. He quickly made a pad from a piece of his shirt and secured it beneath her jacket, then picked up his guns to follow Cap. And stood astonished for a moment; it was almost impossible to keep up with the give and take of the fight; whoever the man with the metal arm was, he was definitely enhanced. Which spelled HYDRA.
He was glad he'd sent Wilson for his wings when Sam's timely entrance gained Cap a moment to recover. But then something changed.
"Shit," Brock muttered when Cap just stood there staring at the unmasked man for a long moment. Brock started to shoot at the same instant Romanoff showed up with a gun she'd retrieved from somewhere and damn near blew up a car. In the billowing smoke, they saw that the man had vanished.
But only seconds later, they were surrounded by STRIKE teams. Including Rollins.
"Sonuva…" He cursed quietly as the four of them were taken into custody; only the news helicopter flying overhead prevented them from being shot out of hand, though he was pretty sure Rollins was tempted to just blow his head off on the spot anyway.
"How's it feel now, you traitorous son of a bitch?" Rollins growled into Rumlow's ear as he hauled them into a van. "How do you like being the one left behind? Always off to shag your pretty-girl, abandoning your purpose for a pair of dark eyes?"
"You leave her out of this, you bastard. If you have a problem with me…" Rumlow spat back, but was interrupted.
"Oh, no, my problem was definitely her. If not for her, you would've been here with us instead of on your knees." Rollins was pissed, ranting. "You shouldn't have switched sides, Rumlow. You'd have come to your senses if Quinn had managed to do his job properly and just fucking kill her."
Brock saw red and began to struggle; if Rollins wanted a fight, he'd damn well get one! But one of the other men punched Romanoff in her bleeding shoulder, and he froze. He knew he'd have to wait. But damn it, his turn would come and Rollins would pay.
Of the four of them, Rumlow was the only one not terribly surprised to see Hill come to their rescue.
Seeing Fury awake and talking, however, was almost as much of a shock for him as it was for Rogers and Romanoff.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
Rumlow ran for the Helicarriers with Wilson and Rogers. They each had a chip and a targeted carrier. It was a tough fight; HYDRA's numbers were immense, especially on the Insight project. Hill was coordinating the three of them, along with Romanoff.
Brock was the first one to reach his target; he put it down to Cap being the far more obvious target on foot and Wilson drawing most of the fire in the air. "Target alpha, locked," he reported. And then he found out just what was holding up Cap.
The Winter Soldier had found them.
"Target beta, locked," Wilson said over the comms a few minutes later. Sam went to try to help Cap, but the Soldier busted up his wings and left him grounded. A quick-release chute was the only thing getting him there on his feet.
Rumlow made his way to the carrier deck, hoping to find a way to get across to help Cap since it seemed like he'd need it. But he had to fight his way there. A short time later, he heard Hill call out that Rollins was headed up to the council room and Wilson intercepted.
"This is for Rumlow, you bastard," Brock heard Wilson say a short time later. "And his soulmate."
Brock couldn't help but chuckle. But he didn't want to distract anyone, so he held his peace.
Shortly thereafter, he heard Maria counting down and then at the last minute he heard Cap confirm that the third chip was locked. Thank God, he thought. Now we just have to get the Hell out of here.
A moment later, the guns began to fire.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
He must have lost consciousness for a moment when he hit the water, but his lungs seized when he tried to breathe in a mouthful and Brock's eyes snapped open. Instinctively he started to tread water, pushing himself up towards the light.
"Oh, fuck," he choked out as he saw the helicarrier he'd just fallen off, toppling towards him, on fire. And started to swim frantically, his chest still aching but his arms cutting cleanly through the water, towards the riverbank.
The comm had come out of his ear, so he had no idea what was going on, could only sit on the muddy riverbank trying to get his breath back and watch the destruction, the fiery rain of shattered metal falling from the skies. And then, falling in among all that metal, he saw a figure in blue.
"Shit, Cap!" he was on his feet in a moment, preparing to go back into the river - but there was a hell of a lot of floating debris in between him and where Steve had fallen. He took a moment to eye it dubiously, looking for a way through - and saw something else moving.
"Oh, shit," Brock breathed, watching disbelievingly as the Winter Soldier swam through the disaster zone. He was going to finish the job, the bastard was going to kill Steve, and there was no fucking way Brock could get there in time. He could only watch - and stare in disbelief as the Soldier towed Steve to the riverbank and stood over him for a moment before walking away.
Of course, it was on the opposite side of the fucking river. Wearily, Brock pushed himself to his feet and waded back into the water. The worst of the wreckage had sunk, but it was still a tough swim, and more than once he caught himself on jagged shards of metal. He was bleeding from cuts to his face and arms by the time he got to Steve. Who was breathing, thank God. The sound of helicopter blades made him look up warily, hands twitching towards weapons that had long since run dry of bullets.
Fortunately, the first figure to appear from the helicopter was Falcon. Brock relaxed marginally when Wilson arrived beside them, gear from a rappelling line still attached to his harness.
"Rumlow?" Sam asked.
"Worse for the wear, but I'll live. Check Cap," he replied, his voice tired.
Wilson did so and shook his head. "We'd better get you both to a hospital."
Brock shook his head. "Not safe. For either of us, probably."
"You don't really think they're gonna chase us into a public hospital, do you?" Wilson's voice was filled with disbelief. "I'll get them to put you in the same room and stay with you myself, how's that?"
"Fine, whatever," Brock grumbled. With an effort of will, he pulled himself to his feet. Helped Wilson haul Cap up, and the three of them made their way to the helicopter that had just touched down. More hands came to help with the burden, and Brock willingly stepped back and out of the way to let Wilson and Romanoff handle Cap.
He brushed away hands that reached to help him into the 'copter, though. He made it there on his own and dropped into a seat with a sigh of relief. It didn't take long for them to land on the roof of the George Washington University Hospital. EMTs came to unload the injured.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
The day after the battle at the Hub and the Triskellion, Skye sat with Coulson watching - and recording - various news programs. She took a moment to marvel at how many people were crazy enough to try to get pictures and video of the falling helicarriers. Then she set to work using the equipment at the Hub to enhance some of the clearer footage on another screen.
"Oh, shit," she muttered to herself when she realized that some of the "debris" falling from the helicarriers were people. Quite probably a lot of them were HYDRA, but it was unlikely they all were. So she set about trying to identify them. Most were too fuzzy to ID, between the motion and the resolution on the cameras. But she managed to get names of a few to Coulson.
And then she stopped, staring frozen at the screen. "No," she whispered. "Oh, no. No."
"Skye?" Coulson asked quietly, moving to stand beside her. He looked down at the screen and saw the image: Rumlow falling out of a Helicarrier as it crashed. When she didn't respond, he tugged her into a hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly.
"No. He can't be dead. He promised he'd be careful." Her voice was a hoarse whisper, on the verge of breaking.
"I'm sure he was," he said gently. He quietly led her into a side office, away from the curious looks of other Agents. "He must've been the fourth person in the earlier footage, fighting with Cap," Coulson suggested. "He was trying to fight the good fight."
Skye was on her feet, dragging her shirt up from her waistband, turning around. Panting for breath, panicking. "I didn't feel it! I thought - I thought I would feel it, if anything happened to him - is my mark fading, Phil? Please, you have to look…"
"Skye," his hands were gentle as he pulled her shirt back down. "It takes time for soulmarks to fade. It's said that the deeper the love between soulmates, the longer it will take. I know you loved him. And - you were still never sure if he was your soulmate or not…"
The tears were flowing freely as she turned back around to face him. "He was. Oh God, Phil, he was, and I never told him that I was sure…"
"Sshh," his arms went around her, drawing her into a gentle embrace; she laid her head on his shoulder and let the tears flow.
Skye clung onto Coulson for a long moment. And then the phone in his pocket chirped. He sighed, not letting her go until she lifted her head. "You'd better get that. It might be important."
Phil tightened the hug for a moment. "Skye. You're important too."
She dashed the tears from her cheeks as he let her go. "Take the call, AC. Maybe we can save other people from having to find out that their loved ones have died because of these HYDRA bastards." Her voice was filled with venom. "We're going to destroy them. All of them."
He nodded, not trying to patronise her. He could see the grief written in every line of her body as she sank heavily back down in her chair and reached to replay the footage again. Reaching over her shoulder, he pressed the DELETE key firmly. "Don't do that to yourself, Skye. It won't help." Only then did he answer his phone.
Less than an hour later, they were evacuating the Hub, back on the Bus again, unsure of where they should go. Skye was glad for the activity, for Coulson's orders to delete the identity of every member of the team. It kept her busy. She called Ward to let him know what she'd done, and on a whim went in and deleted all records of Brock having worked for SHIELD, too. Everything that had just been dumped to the Internet. She cleaned it all off, leaving him only as a retired Navy SEAL. At least that way, if his body was recovered and identified, he'd get a proper military funeral instead of a traitor's grave.
Tears dripped onto her keyboard and she wiped them away and kept working. She might not have been able to save Brock, but damned if she wouldn't avenge him. Somehow.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
Skye breathed a sigh frustration as she researched the inmates of the Fridge for Coulson. Finding the Providence base had been a rather strange event; the news that the Fridge had fallen was even worse. For a moment, Skye was concerned; Ian Quinn had been sent to the Fridge. But there was a lot of other ridiculously dangerous stuff there, too, and more people to be worried about than herself so she tried not to dwell.
She was perfectly safe in the base.
She'd called Ward earlier. Even though he'd been creeping her out, she was relieved to hear that he was alive. She thought back over their conversation.
"Ward? Oh, thank God," she'd said. "We heard there was trouble at the Fridge. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm alright. Made it out after a fight."
"That's rough. Look, we've been sent to a secret base. I can send you the coordinates so you can join up with the team again."
"It's good to have a safe place. I'll be there as soon as I can. See you soon."
Skye had a bad feeling, but she wasn't sure what was causing it. It could be Ward, or it could just be that everything was in chaos since HYDRA revealed itself. Ward had arrived, so the team was back together, plus Agent Triplett.
It suddenly occurred to her that she should hack the NSA satellites to try to run facial recognition on the inmates. But she might need to borrow Agent Koenig's computers for more data processing power. Coulson thought he should be amenable, but she'd keep working from her laptop in the meantime.
The orientation lie-detector test was a pain in the ass. But Koenig didn't ask about her soulmark, so she figured it could have been worse. She sent Ward in after her. Coulson was getting part of the team ready to leave, and everything was going crazy.
Everything was falling apart. Brock was dead. Ward was seriously injured. The psychopaths in the Fridge were on the loose. Coulson and May were at odds with each other.
And Skye didn't know what to do.
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For the second time in a couple of days, Brock woke up in a hospital bed. From the looks of the room, though, this one was in an actual hospital. Though he didn't think hospital radios usually played Marvin Gaye. Turning his head, he saw Cap lying in the bed beside him, Wilson sitting on his other side with a book in his hands.
"How long have I been out?" Brock croaked rustily.
Wilson looked up, blinked. "Not nearly as much time as I'd have thought. You were pretty banged up."
Brock pushed himself to sit up with a grunt. "I have to go."
"Whoah, whoah, tough guy!" Wilson scrambled to his feet and came rushing over, trying to push him to lie down again. "You took a hell of a beating. The fall into the river alone should have killed you, from that height. Never mind that apparently you were already injured." His hand hovered over Brock's chest, where the bruise from where he'd been shot was rapidly fading from solid black to purplish-green.
"Yeah," Brock glanced across at Cap. "I'm nearly as tough as he is. Talking of which, how bad is he?"
Wilson grimaced, stepping back. "He woke up a few minutes ago. Talked to me briefly before passing out again. He fought Barnes on that last helicarrier. They beat each other up pretty good. Stitches, gunshot wounds, you know."
"Barnes was the one who pulled him out of the water. I thought he was going to kill him. But Rogers has to be right - he has to have remembered something."
They were both silent for a moment, looking at the sleeping man in the other bed.
"He'll want to go after him," Sam said quietly.
"He'll need backup."
"Not you? Steve said the two of you worked pretty well together, made a strong team." Two pairs of dark eyes met, and then Rumlow shook his head.
"I've got someone else to find. My soulmate."
"Huh," Wilson's eyes widened slightly, and then he nodded. "I can see how that might take precedence for you. Where is she?"
"I don't know. I need a phone."
Sam slipped one from his back pocket. "Romanoff gave it to me half an hour ago. It's brand new. Clean."
Brock nodded his thanks and started dialling. A few minutes later he put the phone down on the bed, pressed his hands to his eyes. "There's no answer. Any of the numbers. They're all disconnected."
"If they were SHIELD, they would be," Sam said quietly. "SHIELD's been declared a terrorist organisation. Most agents have either surrendered to the government or gone off-grid."
Brock had to make himself take slow, deep breaths. "I'll need to speak to Hill. Or Fury."
Sam held a finger to his lips. "Don't mention Captain Hook, all right? He's dead."
Brock rolled his eyes. "More fucking secrets. All right. Hill, then. I don't doubt Coulson is talking to her."
"You said that name again," Steve muttered, snapping both of the others around to look at him again. "Why do you keep talking about a dead man?"
Brock and Sam exchanged looks, Sam's curious, Brock's wary.
"Go back to sleep, Rogers," Brock said finally. He was fighting sleep himself, turned his head to see that Sam had just sneakily adjusted something on his IV.
"You too," Sam said quietly. "I'll find Hill. You can start looking for your soulmate later. Right now you've no place to start, and even super-soldiers need time to recover from the damage you've taken."
He wanted to fight it, but his eyes slid inexorably closed. "Skye," her name passed his lips on a slow exhalation of breath, like a prayer, before the world slid away from him again.
Listen to Sam for once, Brock. Skye won't appreciate it if you injure yourself further…
And just a quick note, though Brock asked Hill to warn Coulson about Ward, in all the panic of Fury's near-death and dealing with Project Insight, she wasn't able to. So no, Coulson's team still have no idea that Ward is HYDRA.