warning: referenced violence, swearing
Brooklyn
December 16, 2014
Steve Rogers rolls out of his bed at 6:00 am and runs for about half an hour, sneakered feet slapping loudly against the pavement as he blurs past houses, stores, and other groggy joggers. When he returns to his apartment, he is not even sweating, and his breathing has barely been impacted.
He would have liked to have run more, but he is on a tight schedule today; he is travelling down to New York University to sit in on an art history lecture that Pepper's friend teaches which Pepper had suggested to Steve in the idea that the lecture might interest him.
In fifteen minutes, Steve has showered and dressed in a normal cotton t-shirt and jeans and is pacing barefoot through his kitchen, debating whether he should attempt to cook or just grab breakfast from a nearby diner that serves up a plate of food just how Sarah Rogers would have approved.
His cell phone vibrates softly on the granite countertop, and Steve reaches for it, answering the call. "Rogers," he says in greeting.
"Hey, man. How's it going?"
It's Sam who's currently back in Washington DC.
After SHIELD fell, for roughly six months, Sam and Steve traveled Europe and Asia, sometimes joined by Stark, destroying HYDRA bases and following Fury's, and sometimes Caroline's, information. They trekked all over the world, tracking trails of someone who could have been Nik.
But the lack of fruitful evidence or appearances began to dishearten Steve, and he fell into a state of depression similar to how he had been when he first came out of the ice. Thankfully, Sam, a good soldier and good friend, realized how badly Steve was taking their failures and called a halt to their travels.
Two months ago, they had returned home to civilian life, Sam, despite living in another city, recruiting Pepper and Tony to ensure that Steve remained properly distracted.
All that time, in the last half a year, Steve had been telling himself that if Nik wanted to be found, then he would be found.
Now, however, it seems that he is beginning to lose hope.
"Fine," Steve replies dismissively to Sam. "I've got some plans for later today."
"Oh." Sam sounds a bit regretful. "I'm sorry about that, man, but you're gonna have to raincheck on those plans of yours. Fury found another base in Spain."
"Where?" Steve demands. His entire life has been about controlling his temper, keeping his emotions in check, part of the reason he always had ended up in so many fights when he was younger; without Nik to look after him and keep him in check, he would have run off and gotten himself killed a long time ago. Dr. Erskine's serum had helped a little in lessening his temperament, his emotions had always seemed too big to be contained in his frail body, but Steve still needs to channel it out, take his temper out on a target.
And now, when Steve is feeling at almost the lowest he has ever been in this century, HYDRA seems the perfect target.
"Near Madrid," Sam says.
"But we crossed that base when we found it near empty," Steve states confusedly.
"Yeah, well." Sam chuckles humorlessly. "Seems that when we cut off one head, another grew in its place. The bastards popped right back up on Fury's radar."
"Okay, so we fly in to Madrid. We can use the Quinjet; I'll ask Tony-"
"Nah," Sam cuts him off, "Fury's got a plan. He wants us to fly commercial to Madrid. Barton will meet us there. We're doing this stealth. No shield, no wings, definitely no stars and stripes. This base is not just active; something's going on. They have been using a lot more power than most HYDRA bases, causing periodic blackouts in nearby neighborhoods. Fury wants us to investigate."
"Alright. I'll catch the earliest flight possible. I'll see you in Madrid." When Sam has replied, Steve ends the call, jabbing at the touchscreen of his phone. He places it back on the counter; despite wanting to slam it down, he has already crushed far too many phones that way.
Steve became Captain America to destroy HYDRA, but it seems that he never did a good enough job during the war.
Now, he's just cleaning up his own mistakes, accumulated over the seventy years he was sleeping.
XX
Outside Madrid's city limits
December 20, 2014
Steve nearly hadn't recognized Barton with the shaggy black hair and slight beard. He had also been blindsided when Barton had opened his mouth and had begun to speak with a thick Spanish accent.
But Barton had pulled through and provided Sam and Steve with stealth suits and weapons.
The base that Steve is scouting is disguised as an abandoned building that once was a hospital. It must have been top-of-the-line when it was new, but, now, according to Barton's murmured observations made over the comms, it is in squalor.
As two highly-trained former soldiers, Sam and Clint had convinced Steve to let them take point on this raid. Steve, although also a highly-trained soldier, is just here to serve as backup. They do not want to give away all their advantages to whatever HYDRA forces may be inside that base.
Steve kneels on the ground, not entirely hidden by the bushes, both eyes acutely open as he also listens to his comm.
The standard background noise of grunts, thuds, and rare expletives that accompany most Avengers missions puts him at ease, until he is alarmed by a sudden shout of pain.
"Fuck!" Clint hisses, although a thud and a gunshot from his side of the comm indicates that he is still under attack.
"Barton?"
"Hold on," Clint grunts in reply, Steve recognizing the swift whoosh of air on the other side to be Clint using his bow as a club. "One more minute."
After a few minutes of battle, he finally speaks again. "I'm fine. Some bastard got me good with a knife, it's just a flesh wound."
"Good to hear, Barton."
"There are a lot more baddies here than there were at any of the other bases we checked out, Steve," Sam admits over the constant explosions of gunshots.
"It's almost like they're guarding something," Clint muses thoughtfully. "Oh, shit! I hear some more coming my way. Going dark, Rogers."
"Check back in soon," Steve orders before he hears the telltale click on Clint's side when the archer silences his comms link. "You too, Sam."
"Got it, Rogers."
There's another click in his ear.
Though it's truly been at least half an hour, it seems like it's only minutes before Sam is bursting back in his ear, the comms link crackling loudly with static.
"Steve, there's something you need to see."
"On my way," Steve barks in reply, lunging from his spot in the brush and speeding towards the base.
He makes his way past dozens of unconscious men or women, all HYDRA personnel and all with feet and hands bound. Surprisingly enough, as Steve tears his way to the uppermost floor of the base, the prisoners transform from agents and henchmen to more of technicians and researchers.
Finally, Steve barges into a lab located in a far wing of the hospital, isolated from the rest, and finds Sam and Clint.
His fellow Avengers are standing loosely around the doorway, gazing uncertainly into the lab.
"What's going on?" Steve demands impatiently. "What did you find?"
But, there is no need for either of them to reply, because Steve's gaze travels to the chair set in the middle of the room by its own.
"Oh my God."
The words fall unwittingly from his lips, because, strapped to the chair, groggy and with a string of drool running down from his chin, is Nik.
End of Part One
This is the end of the first part. I have the next part outlined and will start writing it soon. Expect the first chapter of the second part in a month, or maybe earlier.
Drop me a comment. Tell me what you loved (or hated) about the chapter and what you want to see in the future.
Comments make this author write less angsty things.
