Song: The Last Trip to the Station - Hachi
"Hey, you guys can't be down here - " Sitwell grunted, cut off by the elbow slamming first into his throat and then into his head, and Ian quickly stood up, running over to his door.
"Captain Rogers, what - "
"Shut up, don't say anything." He pulled out the key and quickly opened the door, beckoning him out while he turned and opened Lily's door, followed by Simone and Alicia's. "Banner's getting a rental van ready outside, Clint's watching the doors, Romanoff's getting a decoy plane set up, and Stark's dealing with surveillance. Come on, we need to go."
"Yeah, but where are we going?" Lily hissed as they stepped over Sitwell's body and headed out into the halls, joining up with Clint as they headed for the back door that led out to the little used parking lot behind the headquarters.
"We're breaking you out and sending you off to Oregon with false names and everything. We're putting you on witness protection for lack of a better term," he explained distractedly.
"What, why?" Alicia whispered, and Clint turned to give her a disbelieving look.
"It couldn't possibly be because Fury's hell bent on keeping you here forever, could it?" he responded sarcastically and Steve nudged him.
"Don't start with that, we need to keep a low profile," he hissed, and the archer rolled his eyes.
"You can count on me." He suddenly grew serious, hand going to his ear, and he passed a slip of paper to Rogers. "Okay, Steve, you take them to the van, use this code on the double doors leading outside, and start driving with Banner and Stark. They're already out there waiting. Nat and I are going to go take care of the plane." His fellow Avenger nodded and increased his pace, Clint ding the same. But just before the archer was going to round a corner and go on his way to the hangar bay, Simone stopped him and quickly gave him a hug. "Whoa, what - "
"Thank you. Thank you for all of us," she whispered and quickly broke away, running down after the others. Heart pounding in his chest, Steve pushed open the heavy double doors after entering the passcode Clint had given him and ushered the others out the door. Ian was the last one out and just before he stepped outside, Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him close to whisper in his ear.
"I'm staying. You get in the car and you tell Stark and Banner to drive. They'll explain everything to you, but I need to stay here." Ian nodded, tense and nervous, and ran out after the others, motioning for the two scientists to start driving. Sighing to himself, Steve turned around and closed the door, heading for Phil's room in the hospital wing. He owed that man a long put off visit. And several long explanations.
In the car, Tony swore softly to himself and shifted the stick into drive, slamming his foot on the gas pedal.
"I swear, that old man is going to get himself caught and it's not going to be on me," he muttered, and Banner turned around in his seat to face their four nervous passengers.
"Alright. Lily, Ian, you two are now named John and Mary Smith. You run a small bookstore, have been married for five years, and have owned your house for six. Don't worry, Tony's set up a house for you guys and has paid the mortgage accordingly, even hacked the real estate files and everything. Simone and Alicia, you two met through your college roommates and later moved in together at this house here, and have been living there for four years. Your names are Lucy Tran and Joanne Redfern. Alicia, you work as a teacher at Lincoln High School, and Simone, you're a gym teacher there, too. Again, Tony has set up everything for you guys, so you don't have to worry about anything. These papers - " he passed them back to them " - are your legends. Just read them over, know them, and don't worry about anything else. We've been working on this for a few days now, and even the houses are done up to match everything." He stopped talking, noting the tears in Lily's eyes and he reached over to gently grab her hand. "We're not trying to scare you, Lily. This is just how things are going to have to be now. And don't worry, you all live close to each other, and we've set up secure phone lines for you so that you can't be tracked."
"I know you're just trying to help," she whispered and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know."
"Alright Bruce, we'll be there in about eight hours." Tony looked over his shoulder at the others. "Don't worry, you guys'll be fine."
"We're not worried," Alicia said softly. "We're with you two. That's just about as safe as you can get these days."
High above them, many miles away, Romanoff was nervously tapping her fingers against the controls on the plane while Clint looked at her sympathetically.
"Don't worry about it, Nat. This is how it's supposed to work."
"Oh I know. I"m just worried that Fury's going to find some hole in our work...that the others are going to end up right back where they started," she answered, sighing. "But I suppose I should just have faith in Stark's handiwork. He hasn't let us down yet." Suddenly, the radio started crackling, and Clint smirked.
"Working like a charm," he teased in a sing-songy voice, and Nat's lips quirked in a smile.
"Romanoff, this is Fury. We're sending people to intercept you, and you are ordered to land immediately." Romanoff snorted.
"Like hell I'm landing." There was a pause, and then Fury's voice continued.
"Romanoff, you don't have them with you, do you?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out, sir," she responded and closed the channel. She turned to Clint. "We'll keep flying east until we can't go anymore." Clint nodded, leaning back in his seat. This was going to take a while.
Many uneventful hours later, Tony sighed as he pulled up in front of a cozy house dusted in a growing layer of snow. A fire was burning in the fireplace and it bore all the signs of having been a happy abode for a family for several years. Lily looked over at Ian and tightly gripped his hand as Banner passed them the keys to the house and for the car in the drive way.
"Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Smith," the billionaire began, getting out of the car and opening the side door for them. "You need to remember to stay low. Act natural; SHIELD is in the past. You're no longer agents, you're average people. Lead a normal life, have a family, live in peace." Lily hugged him tightly, and Ian shook his hand. "You've deserved it." As they were walking away and as Tony was getting back into the car, the latter paused, pulling something out of his pocket. "Oh! Before I forget. You're going to be wanting this." He threw a small box through the air to them, and Lily caught it, looking at him questioningly. "Every couple needs one of those. Wedding rings." Lily smiled at him and waved goodbye, stepping up to the porch as she did so and entering her home. Sighing, Tony pulled out of the driveway.
"Joanne Redfern and Lucy Tran, your house is just down a couple of blocks," Bruce explained, handing them their keys as well once they pulled up to the home. "And there's something else that we wanted to tell just you two. That house down there?" He pointed at a two-story tucked away in the trees. "That's Stella's home." Simone slowly put a hand over her mouth and took in a deep breath. "If she ever comes home, we want her to have friends and family. We just figured that the transition might be a little harder on Lily and Ian, so you guys would probably be the better option." They nodded and got out of the car, shaking Tony's and Bruce's hands.
"Thanks for everything," Alicia said and began walking towards the home, a strange feeling in her gut. This was peace, this was going home. This was what she'd always dreamed about. But not this way. Simone looked at them and nodded to each, turning and following ex-agent Wong to the door. But a thought struck her and she turned around, giving them a wry and determined look.
"Don't let SHIELD get on our tails. And you get Stella back. Alright?"
"Of course," Stark answered and with that, they went their separate ways, the two scientists heading back to the freeway. After a few hours of silence, the billionaire switched on the radio.
"Nobody's gonna mess me around. Hey Satan, payin' my dues, playin' in a rockin' band. Hey momma, look at me. I'm on the way to the promised land. I'm on the highway to hell! Highway to hell! I'm on the highway to hell! Highway to hell!"
"That we are," Banner conceded and pulled out his cell phone as it began ringing. "Romanoff? Where are you guys?"
"SHIELD's about to take us down, but don't worry. Our alibi about checking in on little Parker is in place, thanks to Ms. Potts and some connections to 'Old May' as the Coulsons knew her. There should be no problem. This is a secure line, they won't know where you guys are. Just get back to base, we'll go from there."
Tony looked over at the phone on speaker and said, "We're not worrying about you. We're on our way back. Everything's all set up and good on our side too." He scoffed. "I can't believe we pulled this off. Some good actually came out of all of this."
In the morning, Fury would be incensed because he would know exactly who was responsible for losing his four prisoners. But there would be no data left under any stone able to be turned to prove it.
"Loki. You are to come with us." Stella's eyes blearily opened and she turned her attention to the dark clothed Asgardians by the doorway. They were the people who usually came for her, though today it seemed that they had a different target in mind, and Loki seemed to know it. He was about to pay for not letting the guards in to take Stella. She drew her knees up to her chest and pressed herself against the wall as the others came into the cell, reaching for her cellmate cowering in the corner. She looked briefly over at them but quickly turned away at the look of fear and just abject terror in his eyes. She couldn't stand by and watch as her tormentors took their anger out on someone else. She would want to interfere, to help their victim. But this was Loki. She wouldn't help him.
Out of sight, out of mind.
But even a kicked dog will turn and bite when pushed far enough.
As they began dragging the disgraced dog forward, Loki twisted his body sharply to the right, slamming his bony shoulder up into an interrogator's sternum and sending him crashing to the ground. Stella jumped and tried to make herself smaller, but couldn't avoid looking at the hollow desperation in the dark-headed one's eyes as he sent his elbow crashing into another's temple and his foot into the third one's knee. It was a rather impressive display of defiance, but Stella began counting down from five, mentally nodding to herself when the guards grabbed the thrashing god once she reached zero and dragged him from the cell in silence. Had he been able to talk, she would have bet her life that he would have been screaming.
She always was when they took her now.
But that was beside the point. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her head rest against the chain that held the bed to the wall. She was cold; she was tired; she was done. She just wanted to lie down and die...just close her eyes and never wake up. It wouldn't be that different for her, she'd still go to that cold dark place that was death, but at least she wouldn't be here. She'd be gone, at peace. Maybe she'd even see Patrick. The thought made her smile slightly, and then made her cry. She looked down at her left wrist, below the bruising and the fresh cuts, to the pale scar she had made, the old wound she had carved into her own skin. No one but her knew that her original plan had been to carve "murderer" into her arm, to create a permanent marker to herself and those around her about what she really was. Because she was a murderer. And as she cried herself into a dozing state, the guards by the doors continued to talk away to themselves.
A few hours later, she started awake at the creaking and groaning of rusting iron hinges as the door was opened to allow Loki reentrance to his cell. She immediately straightened, and felt her skin crawl as she looked at him. He wasn't beaten. There were no wounds. And yet, he looked worse off than she ever had. His eyes were sunken, dark circles, and the skin around the muzzle was chapped. His skin was waxy and pale, and he sweating profusely. He was walking unsteadily as though he were disoriented, and tripped over his own feet to land on his knees, arms doubling over his stomach as though he were in pain. Stella's heart was hammering painfully as she looked over to where the interrogators were closing the doors and leaving them on their own. What had they done?
Loki wasn't looking at her, still doubled over, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. The guards were preoccupied with each other, weapons resting off to the sides. The interrogators were taking off their gloves and heading towards the stairwell, meaning that they were going to be done with their "duties" for a few days. Overall, no one saw either her or Loki as a threat at the moment. She had gotten to the stage any killer would like: the enemy had gotten comfortable and let his guard down. And for the first time since she had been imprisoned, she returned.
We can kill him. Stella stiffened, breath coming in shallow gasps. Not her. Not now. This is our chance. We can kill him right now, right here. We can finish our mission and make everyone at home proud. We can kill him. You can kill him. And you're going to.
But you can't. He's…he's hurt. He's defenseless. You can't kill him, he's defenseless! It's cruel and ruthless!
I am cruel and ruthless by design, if you've forgotten, the snide voice taunted in her mind, and she ground her teeth.
It's not right. It's not right!
So? He killed dad! We need to get vengeance! Nightmare shouted, and she shook her head as though to clear it.
I'm angry with him too, but killing him isn't the answer! Look at him! He's so torn up and beaten down that I just want to help him!
We NEED to kill him! It's what we're supposed to do! We came here to kill Loki at any cost, no matter what. That is what we were told to do and that is what we are going to do!
That was when it clicked in her mind, what had been bothering her, why she had no urge to kill the man before her anymore, or anyone else for that matter.
No. We are not zombies. We don't just do what people tell us without thinking about it! We can't do that, not anymore! What are we? Humans? Or machines!?
What's gotten into you!? Kill him now!
No. NO I WON'T.
Stella pushed the voices out of her head, finally unable bear the sight of his pitiful form shivering alone any more and slipped gracefully from the cot, walking over to kneel beside the hunched, quivering figure.
"Are you okay?" she asked, voice harsh. She didn't mean to be, but she was talking to the man who murdered her father. She frowned and prodded his shoulder with a fist. "You okay?" Her initial tone started to fade away as she saw his eyes closed against the tears slipping down his cheeks. "Hey…hey, what's wrong?" Now she was concerned. He was taking in sharp, deep breaths through his nose and then his whole body would tense up and the muscles in his neck would strain as though he were yelling. But that wasn't possible because she was hearing no noise….
Feeling sickened, Stella reached out and gently put a hand against his throat, yanking her hand away when she felt that it was vibrating with what should be sound from his vocal cords. But there was no noise.
"Oh god." Stella withdrew and looked like she was about to throw up. "You're screaming." Loki stopped his routine to tearfully and tiredly look around at her, body and expression the epitome of defeat and desolation. "You're in pain. You're screaming, but you can't make a single sound." Her cellmate's face contorted behind the metallic muzzle as he emotionally caved once more. Unsteadily, Stella reached out to put a hand on his shaking shoulder, shivering at the clammy heat of his skin. It was a fevered warmth, not a healthy warmth. He flinched at her touch but didn't do anymore than that as he continued to cry and silently sob. It was then that she saw the burns around his hairline, and it all clicked.
"I'm sorry," she whispered and felt her heart stolen by pity. "I'm so sorry." If possible, Loki seemed to curl even farther in on himself and his raw fingers pulled helplessly again at the clamp about his mouth, just as he had so many times before. Before either knew what was happening, Stella had wrapped her arms about his scared and marred frame and was holding him close to herself. Her left arm wrapped all around his shivering frame and held him close to her body while her right arm snaked about to gently support his dark head, fingers subconsciously stroking his hair in the comforting, protective, and calming way that her mother had done for her whenever she had cried like this. It felt like second nature, this protective embrace, and tears were springing into her own eyes as she felt his silent screams against her chest.
Kill him. Kill him now! Snap his neck, you COWARD!
NO. I WON'T.
DO IT. HE KILLED DAD, KILL HIM!
I. Don't. Need. You. She held Loki even tighter and a few tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. The voice in her head faltered, and when it came again, it was unsteady.
Of course you do.
No. I don't. You need me.
Now where did you get a boneheaded idea like that –
THEN TAKE ME OVER AND KILL LOKI.
…
I DON'T NEED YOU ANY MORE! I WANT YOU TO GO AWAY!
Where is this coming from?! But now the voice was afraid and wavering. She was winning and that was when Stella knew. She knew from the moment her heart had gone out to the tortured soul she should hate with her very core. She had found herself again; she had found Stella Coulson. Then again, she had always been there, just on the cusp of disappearing forever…just buried under that monster she just overthrew. Nightmare was gone, and she, Stella Coulson, was back in control.
I am in control. I choose. I am Stella Coulson. I help people, not hurt them.
Loki felt his racing heart slow to match the beat pounding in his ear from this child. A child sent to kill him now embraced him and pitied him. Now supported him. He felt his arms going around her in response, and he clung to her like she was the last thing that could keep him alive in this world. He didn't know why he was doing this…it could very well be a ploy to bring him in close enough so she could break his neck, but somehow he didn't mind. There was something different about her…something that he trusted about the way that she had looked at him just then, and the way that she had spoken to him and gently embraced him.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," he heard the girl whispering, and he slowly felt himself slipping away from consciousness until he fell limp in her arms. "Loki?" She laid the man out on the ground and leaned over him, looking into his gaunt and hollow face. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin had a flushed, sickly complexion. There were streaks of smeared blood all around the lip of the muzzle from where it had cut him or his fingers had been rubbed raw from trying to pull it off and she gently ran her fingers along the edge of the unforgiving metal in an attempt to find a release latch.
She found none.
She settled herself in a more comfortable position on the floor and pulled the basin of water over to herself, tearing a fragment of her clothing free to create a crude washcloth. She slowly dipped it into the water and wrung it out, scrutinizing the marred form before her before setting to work on the worst of the wounds that she could see. First, she picked up his bony and thin wrists, gently dabbing and brushing at the dried and fresh blood that stained them. When she had cleared the dark red fluid from the lacerated skin, she could see that the wounds clearly traced the patterns of some form of manacles. And she knew how easily flesh wounds like those could become infected and in Loki's position, that would be a whole different level of hell. Making a quick decision, she took off her outer shell, the thick, resilient material, and then removed the undergarment, the protective slip that she wore under that. That left her in her cargo pants and white tank top as she began systematically tearing wide strips from the hem of the protective slip to make bandages. She wasn't going to be letting this man die of infection right before her eyes. Just a little under an hour had passed, and she sighed, looking down at her handiwork. There was no way she was going to let anyone touch him again. Not while she could still get her feet under her. She leaned forward, pulling his arm around her shoulders and forcing herself to her feet. After a few stumbling steps that sent her plowing into the wall, she managed to get Loki over to the small cot, setting his tall form down on the bed and making sure he was in a comfortable position before kneeling before him and subconsciously putting her hand on his.
"I guess I should explain all this to you, right?" she began, looking at his sleeping features. She took a closer look at the burns along his scalp, and she shuddered as she tried to imagine what they had been doing to him. "Well, the way I see it, we're in the same boat here, aren't we? I mean, we're the two who did unspeakable things...in fact, we've done the exact same things. We've killed people and overthrown powerhouses. Or at least tried to. And then we bit off more than we could chew and here we are."
Loki's eyes shifted beneath his lids as a dream began, and she sighed, tightening her grip on his hand. "I don't know why I can't be mad at you. You killed my dad, or at least left him brain dead. You took everything from me. But I took everything from me too. And people tried to warn me, and people tried to hold me back and save me. But I didn't realize it until now. Until you. Because you can't say anything. You can't say anything, so I have to figure out what you're trying to tell me, why you're doing things. You can't hide behind words. And I can't ignore you." Stella shook her head and rested it against the edge of the bed. "Patrick was right. He said that he had hope for me. That someone will come along and put things right for me. It may not be them, but someone'll do it." She smiled slightly. "They don't know I heard that. I was eavesdropping by the door. But you were that miracle person, Loki. I never realized that you weren't the one who destroyed me. I was the one who destroyed me. I became so engrossed in vengeance, that I never stopped to think that maybe I had everything wrong. That maybe there were...somethings I didn't know about."
Tears sprang to her eyes as he began tossing and turning, and she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, steadying him and making sure he didn't hurt himself. The familiarity of his own actions made her heart ache, and she fell silent for a few minutes, letting her tears out. This is how everyone felt when they looked at her. And she had just pushed their concerns aside.
There was a soft click as the door to the hospital room opened and closed ever so gently, the newcomer carefully walking over to sit in the vacant chair by the starch white bed. He looked just as haggard as Phil, maybe even more so, and just sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the edge of the mattress as though in prayer.
"I tried. I really did. And I'm so sorry that I let you down so bad." Steve barely managed to get the words out of his throat, fighting against the pain that was building in him. "She was your daughter...my granddaughter, and I let you down. I'm sorry." He sighed and let his head rest on his clenched hands, trying to order his thoughts. "I thought I could do good by you. I thought that I could make up for everything that I've done wrong, and pay you back for everything you've done for us, by taking care of Stella." He scoffed, lifting his head back up to rest his chin on his hands and look up at the ceiling tiles above them. There were tears misting his eyes, and he blinked them away, taking deep breaths to steady himself. Once he managed to compose himself, he looked down at the all but dead man before him. His eyes were shadowed hollows, his cheeks were sallow and thin. His hands and wrists looked fragile enough to the point where Steve was pretty sure a kid could snap his bones. He was wasting away, practically disintegrating where he lay. Steve shook his head again and closed his eyes, clenching his hands together so that his knuckles shown white.
"I - uh - don't know if you even exist anymore. I've seen too many weird things in my life to know what's true and what's myth. But, uh, if you do happen to be up there, and you are listening to me...please. Can you help? Can you bring him back, can you bring Stella home safe? Can you at least help one of them out? I've gone above and beyond with helping people, with trying to do good, for a person who's in my situation. So please...can you help them? Can you help my family?" He waited in silence, eyes still closed, but he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. There was no sudden apparitions, no miraculous news that Stella was back, and Phil didn't wake up. Slowly, Steve opened his eyes and leaned forward to rest his head on his folded arms, one hand holding his son-in-law's. Phil didn't deserve this...Stella didn't deserve this.
None of them did.
"You don't deserve this," Stella sobbed, smoothing his hair away from his face as he began shouting in his dreams, still voiceless but straining as though trying to scream. "And neither did I. Neither of us deserved any of this." She took in shaky breaths, air fogging before her mouth, and tried unsuccessfully to calm herself. Eventually, she resorted to just laying forward over her companion's chest, the weight and the gentle touches of another person near him calming him down so he finally lied still. Overhead, the stars and moonlight shone in through the bars of their cell, reflecting off Stella's tears. "You're like me...and I'm like you. We've destroyed ourselves and pushed away the people who want to help us. And then all that's left is this." Below her, Loki slowly started waking, eyes opening to look at her in mild consternation and bleary confusion. Slowly he reached out and rested a hand on her back, gently rubbing small circles on her exposed skin with his thumb. When she spoke again, her voice was nothing more than a breathy squeak.
"I forgive you." She pressed her tear-stained face into the space between his neck and shoulder, hands gripping the fabric of his tattered clothes as tightly as she could. "I forgive you, Loki."
Steve's eyes were closed and he was bordering on the edge of falling asleep when suddenly, the agent's eyes blinked, and he sat bolt upright, gasping and coughing on the intubator in his mouth and throat. Suitably startled, Steve's head snapped up, and he stared blankly at the man struggling to sit up and place where he was and what was happening. Finally, the full scope of the situation sank in, and Steve hurriedly got to his feet, gently pressing Phil back down onto the bed and slowly easing the intubator from his son-in-law's mouth. That probably wasn't how he was supposed to do it and Phil's expression agreed with him, but it got the plastic out of his throat and made it a bit easier for the now awake man to breathe. A few minutes passed in silence as Coulson coughed and gasped for air, looking around himself in bewilderment and fear. Shakily, his hand went to his chest, and the Avenger knew the wounded man was checking for a scar from Loki's stab. Still unsteady, the man finally looked at who was behind him and his brow creased in slight confusion at his unexpected companion.
"Steve..." he muttered, voice a nearly inaudible whisper since he hadn't spoken in years.
"Hey," Steve responded, smiling and briefly wiping at his eyes as he put a hand on the man's shoulder, tearing up even more and smiling again as Phil slowly reached around and shakily grabbed his hand. His skin was still clammy, but not quite as cold as it had been. He was still breathing heavily, and the old man knew too well what his family member was going through. It was disorienting; it made you feel sickened. And most of all it was frightening. You leave the world at one time and come back in another place entirely. But then, quite suddenly, the super soldier knew exactly what he was going to say. What he was supposed to say. He reached out and rested his other hand on top of their joined ones.
"I was watching you while you were sleeping," he managed, and Phil's smile, no matter how tired or how small, that that one statement created was worth all the past awkwardness and embarrassment it brought back. But then, before he could say anything else, before Steve's expression could change to one of sad horror at the realization of everything he was going to have to tell the sick man in front of him, Coulson began falling back into unconsciousness and Steve slowly began pulling away. He needed to go get the nurses.
"Wait..." Steve looked down at his daughter's husband and saw the fear under the half-closed lids. And nodded.
"I'll be here when you wake up, don't worry." Exhaustedly, the man nodded and slowly fell asleep. Once he was sure he was out, Steve released the man's hands and almost fell over his chair, running out the door and slamming it against the wall as he sprinted into the hall, ridiculously large grin on his face and tears in his eyes as he ran up to Romanoff who was coming down the hall.
"Steve. Steve, WHA - " Natasha was cut off as her friend hugged her and literally picked her up off the floor, nearly spinning her in a circle as he laughed and cried at the same time.
