Hi. A new chapter again. Any feedback as always welcome.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters aside from my own OC. The rights of the other characters belong to Marvel and its affiliates.
Enjoy!
Steve had been awake when the call came through. The lights had been dimmed in his apartment, the files he had been busy trying to ignore strewn across the table, while he himself doodled mindlessly on a notebook scrap.
It had been almost two weeks since he had heard from Coraline. Flashes from the argument prompted the graphite to grind deeply into the paper as he drew jagged lines across the page. It had been petty, and stupid, and the whole time he had been screaming at himself to shut up, to stop talking, to not ruin whatever it was between them, but still he had continued in a panic as he watched the one person he trusted wish herself somewhere else.
He had stormed off, and went straight to a gym 'straight out of the good old days' (according to its slogan at least) that wasn't busy enough to warrant worries over company, but still had enough equipment for the residual anger to be beaten away into a punching bag.
A lot of hours had been spent there in the 11 days that had followed. Every evening was spent pummelling his frustration, dust clouding around him in a spiral of anger, at himself, at S.H.I.E.L.D and very briefly at the historian he was spending most of his time thinking or worrying about.
He'd given himself two days to calm down, not wanting to witness the hurt in Coraline's eyes again if he snapped at her in his confused, battle worn state. Two days of cursing himself and doing whatever S.H.I.E.L.D wanted of him with the same fist clenched, frown masked complacency he exhibited in his USO days.
After those two days were up, he had found his way to the location of the argument and knocked on Coraline's door deep in the Triquetra's depths. There hadn't been an answer, and after feeling a pang of worry large enough to cause him to break the lock on the door, Steve had cursed his own stupidity as he remembered what had caused the argument, and pacified his panic enough to rationalise that of course the room would be empty, all of the historian's stuff was in her new apartment, where presumably she was too.
This thought had calmed him as he repeated it like a mantra all the way to her door. His mind had only given way to the fluttering in his heart and speeding thoughts in his head when he'd received no replies for his knocking and calling through the door, and on breaking in the door noticing the lack of Coraline anywhere in the apartment, with her small amount of possessions still boxed and his post it note surprise untouched.
He'd checked every room what felt like a hundred times by the time he called S.H.I.E.L.D. With the collected ease of someone used to gun fights and hand grenades, he explained to the agent on the other side of the phone that Coraline Quinn was missing. The agent had sounded concerned, even if they tried to hide it, and ten minutes later a black van had pulled up and six agents had piled out, with Agent Clarke taking the lead.
Steve had bristled inwardly as the agent had inspected the apartment in a way that felt far too much like snooping, and then muttered something to another suited man who had nodded and then left.
"What's going on?" Steve had cornered Clarke before he could make the hallway. The agent had sighed, managing to look irked even as the Captain towered over him.
"Quinn's a flight risk. We assume she's flown."
Steve shook his head vehemently.
"No, she isn't. Coraline wouldn't just leave, she has nowhere to go and…" And she wouldn't just leave him, would she?
The thought quietened the Captain's protests, and in that time Clarke had barked orders to his men to check airports and call Fury, and had then left Steve alone with only the instruction to report for normal training as usual.
When he had cornered Fury later that day, and in the weeks that followed, every time the response was the same.
"Miss Quinn has gone to ground and we are in the process of finding her."
And when Steve had protested, insisting something was wrong and that he should assist in whatever efforts were being made to find her, he had been met by a pacifying statement of nothing convincing and an added lot of training on his rota.
He'd spent his free time in the museums, searching for clues or for Coraline, whichever he came across first. But his efforts were fruitless, and so nearly two weeks later he was awake with papers from files Coraline had given him three days before the argument and her disappearance, hoping she would have left the ever illusive Clue inside their pages.
The phone had made him jump. He still wasn't used to the noise and he'd spent most of his time alone now that Coraline wasn't there to explore this new New York with him. So when the phone had trilled and beeped, it had taken him a few seconds to calm his heartrate back to its usual level and pick up the call.
Before he could even say hello, the voice on the other end whisper-sobbed down the line. It had been 11 days since he had heard it, but he recognised Coraline at once. What she said made his heartrate increase as his stomach jolted in a split second of pure panic:
"Help"
aAa
"Help," Coraline had managed before having to stop and breathe the darkness away.
She was more awake now, her mind clearer, and her thirst quenched courtesy of the bottle of water she didn't remember leaving on her nightstand. Every couple of seconds she had to stop and clear the black spots from her vision with rapid blinks and shaky breaths, but just like in the movies when the character has to save the day under beyond stressful conditions, Cora was managing the situation with a calmness she didn't recognise but didn't contend with.
Somehow, she had gotten out of bed after the water bottle had been drained and drag-crawled her way through the unfamiliar layout of the apartment to the kitchen. That had taken her fifteen minutes, if the clock on the wall was telling the right time, and with the lights usefully switched on by she presumed herself at some point in the two week absent period in her brain, she had managed to use upper body strength come from nowhere to heave herself up enough onto the counter to knock the mobile phone on it to the floor.
More breathing followed, until the post-it note attached to it became less blurry and the number on it could be copied with shaking hands into the keypad.
The dial tone seemed deafening in the otherwise silent room. She waited for it to pick up with bated breath, something that allowed only one word to sneak out amidst a volley of gasps when the line picked up.
"Help," She had said, and only then remembered fully who she was calling and how their last conversation had ended.
"S…sorry to bother…" She trailed off, partly to suck in a few more breaths but mostly because of the barrage of questions she was being bombarded with by the Captain on the other end of the line.
"Coraline?" Steve all but shouted. "Coraline where are you, where have you been, what's happened?"
"I…I can't…" Coraline couldn't process that many questions. The light of the kitchen was forcing her to squint to prevent the headache winding its way into her temples from increasing.
"Can't what? Coraline, are you alright?"
"No," Her eyes were tearing up – she could tell if it was from the headache or the relief from hearing Steve, comforting, safe Steve amidst the chaos of what was happening.
"What's happened?" Steve was clearly trying to control his voice as the tone became softer, slightly less urgent. "Where are you?"
"The flat…I mean apartment. The new one."
"Right, OK. I'm coming, just hold on. Where have you been, it's been 11 days, Cora."
Coraline's voice was a whisper now, which only made Steve fumble with the phone more as he grabbed his coat with the other hand. "I don't know. I can't…I was here and then…I'm here again."
"You're not making sense," He was out the door now and all but jogging down the corridor. He could hear Coraline's shaky breaths down the phone. After a few seconds she breathed in deeply and replied.
"I don't know how I got here. I don't know where I was," She was speaking more quickly, her breathing going second place to the verbal vomit as her hysteria increased. "I've been gone for almost two weeks and I don't know where and my head hurts and I'm achy and this room is so orange…"
Steve was running now, sprinting blocks as he bought the route to Coraline's apartment up in his head. He was struggling to keep the phone to his ear, its metal casing small and slippery in his palm.
"And we were arguing and I don't want us to argue because I like you and now you're coming but the door is all bashed in and the lights are too bright and…and…"
He could hear coughing down the phone as he reached the last block before her place. When she next spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper, a horrified, terrified whisper.
"And I can't feel them Steve, I can't feel my legs."
Steve dropped the phone in favour of running full force along the street and around the last corner to her apartment building. He was met by a sea of flashing lights and dark suited agents, and with calculated glances he noted the eagle insignia and the now familiar outline of Director Fury waiting by the apartment lobby.
As the Captain skidded to a stop besides the Director, the door of the lobby opened and a stretcher rattled out onto the concrete of the sidewalk, flanked by four people in fluorescents.
Coraline was half sitting, half lying on the stretcher. Her eyes were roving wildly, her arms doing their best to flail with what little energy she had. Her legs were under a blanket, all of which was under the straps of the stretcher as it bumped off the sidewalk and towards the S.H.I.E.L.D logo-ed ambulance. Briefly, her eyes met Steve's and softened in recognition. Steve was already pushing past the agents in front of him to get to her when an oxygen mask was slipped over her face and she was pushed backwards towards the head of the stretcher. In one fluid movement the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance, the doors were shut and the vehicle peeled off and away with sirens blaring.
Steve turned to Director Fury before the ambulance even made the corner, eyes showing his quiet anger.
"Where are they taking her?"
"A S.H.I.E.L.D facility upstate with the best medical care the agency has to offer," Fury placated. Without Steve needing to bark more questions, Fury continued. "Miss Quinn had an adverse reaction to an experimental drug she was administered to heal her dislocated shoulder quicker than usually possible. She will be looked after and soon back to full health, however the more pressing question is her whereabouts for the past 11 days. What did she tell you on the phone, Captain Rogers?"
It took a minute for the information to sink in, but a follow up of "Captain," from Fury had the military side of Steve kicking in and giving a response.
"Nothing, Director. She had no idea where she had been, or what had happened to her."
Fury grunted in response to this, and motioned for a suit to take a note.
"And you're sure she had no idea where she had been?" He clarified.
"Positive. Sir, what is this about?"
"Nothing that should concern you, Rogers," Fury gestured for the suit to scamper off again, as he dutifully did. "For now you can continue with your training as usual. You will need these."
A manila folder of papers was thrust in his direction. God knows where Fury was hiding it. Steve didn't flick through it, instead opting to stand tall and with his jaw set.
"With all due respect Sir," I'd rather be with Coraline- with Miss Quinn until she is fit for work again."
Fury looked at him, impossible to read even for Steve.
"With all due respect, Captain Rogers, that wasn't a request."
Steve gritted his jaw. If he noticed, Fury didn't care.
"Your orders," he continued, "Are to continue your training and read the brief in the folder. We will call on you when you are needed."
Fury turned back to the now dispersing agents, but on noticing Steve's lack of movement, swivelled back around.
"Is there anything else, Captain Rogers?"
"No, Sir," Steve turned on his heels and paced from the mass of cars and slightly sleepy agents. The folder in his hand creased under the clenching of his fist.
aAa
The following days passed in one angry blur. He'd walked the streets for the rest of the evening, ending up at the gym only once every street had been walked with angry, stomping steps.
After clearing his head enough to think without seeing red - a task that had taken a day of punching sandbags and scribbling graphite into sketches that never got beyond smudged squiggles - Steve had gone to the Triquetra, expecting answers but instead being met by panic. A S.H.I.E.L.D base somewhere too classified to name had been breached, or if office rumours were to be believed blown off the face of the earth. With it lives were lost, and apparently more important to the government agency, something else was lost that was powerful, dangerous and now off the grid. Fury was nowhere to be found, and so Steve had had nothing to do other than attend his numerous training sessions, or return home and ignore direct orders.
He had thought about it for a split second before turning on his heel and finding a café.
Later, after a day of stumbling through conversations with a waitress and sketching the lines and arcs of modern skyscrapers, Steve had read the papers in the manila file. That had only blackened his mood further, and so back to the gym it was.
And that was where Fury found him.
"Trouble sleeping?" He had said breezily from behind him.
"I slept for seventy years, sir." Steve was curt as he continued to stare at the punching bag, "I think I've had my fill."
Fury sighed imperceptibly before continuing.
"Then you should be out, celebrating, seeing the world."
Steve unwrapped his hands, barely looking at the man behind him
"I was seeing the world, sir," He turned to Fury with a deadpan look. "Unfortunately my tour guide was drugged by a government agency and now she's MIA."
"Miss Quinn is recovering just fine, Captain. You are of no use to her at this time. Why not make the most of the time by yourself. "
Steve ignored him, instead going towards his gym bag and unravelling the last of the tape from his hands. When Fury continued to wait, Steve gritted his teeth through an explanation.
"I went under, the world was at war, I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost."
"We've made some mistakes along the way," Fury countered. "Some very recently."
Steve looked at him from beneath the crinkling of a frown.
"You here with a mission, sir?"
"I am," Fury watched the man in front of him, trying to read him and thinking all too clearly of the historian that had stood by his side and her own reaction when he'd posed a similar question earlier that day.
"Trying to get me back in the world?" The Captain asked.
"Trying to save it," Fury handed the Captain another manila file, watching as it was accepted with a slight hiss as the man clearly remembered the last one he had been given, its contents and the circumstances in which he had received it.
As the soldier opened it, Fury watched as he tensed even more.
"Hydra's secret weapon," Steve said more to himself than to the man next to him.
"Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you," Fury confirmed. "He thought what we think; the Tesseract could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs."
Steve looked at the Director briefly, eyes calculating, before looking back at the file. Fury smiled inwardly as he saw the Captain's resolve start to break as he was briefed.
"Who took it from you?" Steve asked.
"He's called Loki. He's not from around here. There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in," Steve stiffened again, and Fury didn't have to be the spy that he was to know who the super soldier was thinking about. He pressed on, keen not to lose the Captain's focus.
"The world has gotten even stranger than you already know."
Steve huffed as he was brought back out of his thoughts. "At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me."
And Fury knew he had got him, caught like a fish on a line.
"Ten bucks says you're wrong. There's a debriefing package waiting for you back your apartment."
Steve didn't acknowledge him, his patience run thin. Instead he starts to clean up his area, hefting a punching bag onto his shoulder as he strides towards the exit.
Fury called out at him as he left, his question reminding Steve of the night two days previously in all the wrong ways.
"Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now?"
"You should have left it in the ocean," Steve snapped on his way out.
aAa
What felt like a world away, Coraline Quinn looked up as the door to her room opened. A shadow stood in the doorway. Slowly, the historian removed her hands from her pyjama clad knees and shakily got to her feet. Her hair was bedraggled but tied back, her face clean but on the baggy eyed side of being awake. Her eyes, in the harsh lighting, glimmered in recognition. As she faced the person in front of her, her voice was cold and dripping in poorly concealed ire.
"You," She said to the shadow.
So now we're getting into the Avengers storyline. Hopefully everything is still clear, please PM me if it isn't as I don't want people to be confused!
Also I will be answering reviews now in PMs so thank you so much for them and I will get round to answering as soon as possible.
To the Guests I'll write proper responses next chapter update as I am writing this way too late to formulate decent ones now. Thank you so much for reviewing though!
As always, please do tell me what you think of this. All opinions, good or bad, very much appreciated!
