(A/N): Seriously, O, he SO had it coming. omg.
Chapter 27: "Try Not to Go Insane"
In the Capitol
Bobbi was honestly thrown off her game. She had never seen Viper in such a good mood. The woman had been very nearly chipper ever since this morning, and Bobbi couldn't see any good reason for it. As far as she knew, nothing had changed, and it was too early in the Games to think Betsy had it in the bag.
"What's the joke?" she finally had to ask, unable to figure it out on her own.
"Joke?" Viper asked, still contentedly smiling. "What joke?"
"Something's got you in a good mood; I'm just wondering what it is," Bobbi explained.
"The promise of getting what I want," she replied with a smirk as she stirred her martini with her finger. "It's enough to get any girl into a good mood."
"Just the promise?" Bobbi raised an eyebrow. "I don't usually celebrate until it's a done deal."
"Oh, it's a done deal," she said with a little laugh. "It's only a matter of timing."
"Well. Let me know when that happens, will you? I'll celebrate when it's done," Bobbi said, leaning back.
"You'll be celebrating with me anyhow," Viper said, giving Bobbi a significant look over her drink. "You've already signed up with the winning team, after all."
"Oh, now you're just getting ahead of yourself," Bobbi said, shaking her head with a light laugh. "There's still plenty of work to do first."
At that, Viper laughed out loud and shook her head. "This has nothing to do with these silly little games," she said, then amended her statement. "Well, next to nothing."
Bobbi shook her head once more. "I'm sure it'll be something — whatever it is — when it happens. It's got to be to have you so…" She trailed off and ordered a martini for herself, still smiling to herself.
"Now … back to the task at hand," Viper said after she finished off her drink. "Obviously, we can't send the girl soap... though it would make for some interesting television if she made good use of the opportunity."
"I think Jessica Drew would have a coronary if you did — which makes me want to do it," Bobbi admitted as her own drink had only just arrived.
"That really makes me want to do it too," Viper agreed. "She could use a little shake up."
"So... scented or unscented?" Bobbi asked with a sly smile.
"I really think the two of them won't care," Viper replied with a wave of her hand before her expression turned downright playful. "But I'm partial to something flowery."
"I'll pick something out," Bobbi promised, pushing off from the table with her drink in hand. "Might even have it sculpted — something to tweak Jessica. I'll get creative." With that, she sauntered off to go find where the Gamemakers would be staging things.
Technically, the victors weren't supposed to be back there, but that had never stopped Bobbi before. She knew her way around the place, and she slipped in easily enough — the advantages of working with Fury so closely were that she had access to most places anyway.
Viper's sponsor money would get them matches and a lighter, supposedly to help those two light a fire in the torrential downpour, but Bobbi had stopped by her own suite on the way down and grabbed the final touch, a lilly-sculpted, baby blue soap that she slipped into the matchbook as she looked around the staging area.
So much was going on — not only for sponsor gifts but for other controls. Someone had a transport prepped in case the rain killed any more tributes, or in case little Billy Kaplan finally died. Someone else was watching the weather controls to make sure the rain kept coming.
She spotted Fury chatting with Fitzsimmons — likely about some mutts, since those hadn't been seen yet in the Games — and headed over to flag him down. After all, she hadn't had the chance to talk to him yet, not with Viper spending so much time with her after Brian's death 'freed her up,' and she had plenty she wanted to report.
She passed by a technician working on some distinctive-looking red glasses and frowned at them for only a moment before she caught up with Fury. "We need to talk," she said in a low tone, hardly moving her lips in case, even here, in the secret workings of the Games, any cameras were watching.
He gave her a raised eyebrow look for a moment. "Miss Morse, I thought you'd been around long enough to know how very busy I am right now. But I see that I need to take time out of my busy schedule to — once again — show you the way out."
"You know me. One drink and I lose all sense of direction," she replied, swirling the drink in question with one hand, a crooked, tipsy smile painted on her lips.
He looked incredibly irritated as he took her by the arm and hauled her out of the control room and down the hall, muttering under his breath the whole way down to his office. But as soon as the door was shut behind him, the muttering stopped and he let out a breath. "Alright, Morse, what's so important that you needed to interrupt me?"
"Viper's in a good mood," Bobbi led out. "And I don't mean the usual. She's downright chipper, and has been since this morning. She's playful." She shook her head. "Not to mention she's been hinting that she's going to get what she wants, that it's a done deal. Oh — and that Seraph woman we've been trying to investigate? Is apparently her mentor." She laid it all out at once so there was no mistaking the fact that something serious was going on, not giving Fury a chance to break in until she was through, and then took a breath, watching the director's face carefully as he thought it over.
Fury, for his part, actually looked for the first time since she'd met him as if her report truly was news to him. "Seraph?"
"She came to introduce herself, officially, and make sure — how did she put it? — her apprentice was choosing the right apprentice for herself. So yes, I'm sure of the connection."
Fury let out a sigh as he started to pace the room. "That is not good news." He narrowed his eyes and looked at her with a hard glare. "Do you know who Seraph is working for? Because it is not our side."
"I just know that Viper's not fond of the Capitol, but I don't know what side that puts them both on, sorry," Bobbi said.
"Who else has Seraph been friendly with? Schmidt by chance? Or Stane?"
"She's been friendly with all the victors. She likes the newest ones. Schmidt is friendly with Viper — as you know — but Seraph doesn't stay too close; I'm not sure if it's just to delay suspicion, though. And no one without a Y chromosome is friendly with Stane," she said, this time with a small smirk.
"Except for Viper," he said, shaking his head. "That woman is up to something. See if you can figure out what it is."
"I should be able to tell you more soon. I know meeting Seraph was a test, so they're watching me closely right now, but I'll let you know as soon as I can if I know anything useful," Bobbi promised.
"I want you to focus on what Seraph wants from our youngest victors. That's where her focus is. We need to know who she answers to."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Bobbi said with a little nod. "And while you're at it, warn Rhodey and Logan, would you? I can talk to Quill easily enough with the upcoming wedding, but outside of him, the victors on your side… I need to steer clear while Viper and Seraph are still weighing me out."
"I'll make sure to talk to both of them," Fury agreed, though he was already putting a few pieces together on what he suspected was a play for one of them outright. "Tell Jess to get those two to keep away from Seraph until this is over."
"That I can do. She's going to come talk to me anyway in, oh, whenever my tribute gets a parachute," Bobbi said with a smirk.
"Nothing's going out until after the rain," Fury told her. "It won't make it otherwise."
"Then I can't promise I can get hold of Jess. Viper's kept me in her sights nonstop."
"Just be careful of what you drink," Fury said with a far more serious expression than what she was expecting.
She paused and looked his way before she nodded seriously. "She hasn't managed to slip me anything I didn't want her to yet. And I've been building up tolerances to some of what I suspect she wants to use if she ever feels like questioning me," she assured him.
He nodded and tipped his chin up toward the door, then raised his voice. "Don't go wandering around without an escort, Miss Morse."
In the Arena
Bucky had been trying to find his way closer to the other tributes for most of the Games, though he hadn't seen anyone since he'd stepped into that fight between the Twelves and the Ten girl. And with the rain coming down the way it was, he didn't think he'd find anyone else that night, either.
The problem was that the water was starting to flood the caves that he'd taken shelter in, so he had to find a new place or risk drowning. But that also meant going out in the rain as night was falling.
He wanted to get a move on before he totally lost the light, though.
Bucky didn't think he would run into anyone in this downpour, but he had his mace out all the same as he picked his way over the muddy desert ground. The mouth of the cave was spewing water, and he could see the ground swirling around him, but it was only about an inch, so he didn't worry too much about it until he heard what sounded like the earth itself had simply split, the sound explosive and crackling over the area.
He didn't have any time to react before he saw a wall of water rushing toward him, and the next thing he knew, he was underwater, his body tossed in the current until he didn't know which way was up, even though he knew he had to figure that out or risk drowning.
His chest was burning, and he could feel his knees and elbows crashing into rocks on his way past, but finally, he just let his body go limp, and when he started to float as the water settled into more of a steady stream than a wall — he swam that direction.
His head broke the surface, and he gasped in air, completely relieved in the few moments he had before he went under again, this time because the current was simply too strong — though at least this time he knew which direction was up.
He had to do that several times over, clawing his way back to the surface, gasping in as much air as he could before he went under again. He didn't know how long that kept up, but he knew he couldn't keep doing it forever, and he kept trying to fight the current to get toward whatever counted as shore in a desert flash flood.
When he surfaced from a particularly long period of time underwater, he almost didn't break the surface because something was in the way, and he didn't really process it as he scrambled to grab hold of it. Whatever it was, it was floating on the water, and it would help him stay above the water.
He held on for a while, just gasping in breath, until he finally tried to pull himself the rest of the way up. It didn't hold his whole body, and Bucky saw now that what he'd found was one of the very few desert trees, scraggly and uprooted entirely by the flood.
But it could hold his head and shoulders above the water, so Bucky just grabbed hold and let the current carry him, watching as the mountains and ridges disappeared from view as he was washed away — with no way of knowing or controlling where he'd end up.
Tahiti Rec Room
It was quickly becoming a full time job for Kurt to watch over his friends. Peter had been despondent since seeing Gwen die, and as much as he sympathized and wanted to try to support him, he was unfortunately very sidetracked by Kitty and America teaming up to help Billy.
"It's just too bad that the timing is so horrid," Kurt muttered to Kate as they tried to decide where to spend the evening. Peter had given up on watching — no longer invested at all, and instead trying to find a way to get into the other side of Tahiti to see how long it was going to take for things to get moving already.
"Well, she's not nearly as bad off as Natasha was, and she came back before I did," Kate offered. "Maybe he won't have to wait too long…"
"I hope you're right," he agreed. "I don't think anyone will be able to live with him if they drag it out for too long."
She nodded her agreement, sighed, and rested her head on his shoulder for a moment. "But I'm really glad your best friend found my best friend," she admitted in a low whisper. "They'll be unstoppable."
"I'm sure they will," Kurt said, "At least she's not kissing anyone she shouldn't. For now."
"I'm sure you just saw… I mean, emotions run high…"
"Kate." He raised his eyebrows at her with a flat look.
"Well, would it be so bad if she had a cute guy waiting for her after she won? Would it really?" Kate asked. She knew that Kurt was protective of his friend, and she didn't blame him — but she also could hardly believe that her romantic boyfriend wasn't totally on the side of some forbidden love.
"As long as he wasn't engaged to one of the princesses — which he is."
"And you know as well as I do he doesn't want to be. Come on, Kurt. Let her live a little, huh?" she teased.
"It's not like I can get in the way," he said in a grumpy tone.
She just smiled and reached over to take his chin in her hand and pull him into a kiss. "Should I be jealous of how jealous you are?" she teased.
"Will it get me more fraternization?"
She laughed. "It might," she said. "Depending on how real the jealousy is. Fake jealousy get a very passionate attempt to win you back."
"That one then," he said with a nod.
She grinned at him and pulled him into a longer, more involved kiss. "Then I'll just have to win you over," she decided when the kiss broke, resting her forehead against his.
"Good luck," he said with a little smirk. "I'm not that easy to win."
"Well, it wouldn't be worth my time if it was easy," she teased him.
But despite the good mood they were both in after some playful teasing and flirting, when they got into the rec room, where most of the Tahiti kids were watching the games, they were taken off-guard by the look of near-panic on Steve's face as he was clearly holding his breath while his old friend from Five bobbed along in what looked like a river.
The teasing smiles on both of their faces fell when they saw how pale Steve looked, though it looked like their friends already had things well in hand. Clint had settled onto the armrest of the couch beside Steve, looking like he'd come fresh off a mission and still wearing his black mission clothes, just quietly talking to Steve about how he'd grown up in those mountain areas, and so long as Bucky could stay afloat, the flash floods were usually over as soon as they started.
"Steve..." Kurt said as he approached him slowly. "Perhaps you should take a seat while this plays out."
Steve turned toward Kurt with an open look on his face, but it was Ororo who more or less pulled him onto the couch and practically sat on him. "He's going to be fine," she said. "He can float just about as well as that tree he's hanging onto."
"He's past the worst of it, anyway," Clint assured him. "That first wall of water's the real killer. After that, it's just riding it out. He's fine."
"See?" Ororo said before she gave Steve's arm a little squeeze. "Fine. I'm reasonably sure Clint's talking from experience, and if that's true … and what you told me about Bucky was true, then stupid floats as well as wood."
Steve didn't take his gaze off of the screen in front of him, but he did nod the slightest bit, slowly, and Clint and Ororo shared a look over the top of Steve's head.
"On the plus side, he's probably not thirsty anymore," Clint said with a sideways grin that had Ororo rolling her eyes, though Steve didn't respond until Bucky was more or less safe, floating more than struggling for air — and Steve fell back against the couch in pure relief.
After that, Ororo was quick to shove Steve's arm again. "Are you still worried, because you really need a shower. You smell."
"I'm pretty sure that's Clint you're smelling," Steve said with a small smirk, finally starting to reorient himself.
"You wish," Clint replied. "You smell like authority — and not in a good way."
"So that's not sewer I'm smelling from your assassination run?"
"No, that's the authority I was talking about."
"Uh-huh." Steve shook his head and stood back up from the couch. "Probably should get some sleep anyway. I've got an early-morning intel run," he said to no one in particular before he headed off.
After Steve left, Ororo looked up at Kurt with a little frown. "Someone needs to tell Coulson to get it in gear. Everyone is too caught up in this to be able to … live."
"I have to go debrief with him as soon as he gets down from the Capitol nonsense anyway," Clint offered. "And since I don't have a friend in this fight, maybe he'll hear it better from me." He stood up and stretched before he gave Ororo a little wink and headed down the hall toward Coulson's office.
He didn't have long to wait, though he didn't mind hanging around the hall for a while. Natasha was out on a mission, Kate was wrapped up with Kurt… he knew how to wait.
So when Coulson came down the hall apologizing for being held up on the "other" side of SHIELD, Clint just waved him off. "No problem. Seems like the Games are pretty much, you know, all-consuming," he said, waiting for Coulson to let him into the office before he shut the door behind himself and added, "for everybody, I mean."
"No kidding; it's pretty ridiculous up there," Coulson agreed as he reshuffled a few files. "What can I do for you, Mr. Barton? Seeing as your debriefs have a tendency to start and end before the door can be shut."
"I meant what I said, Coulson — the Games are eating everyone up. You should see it down here; they're just… Pete's shut down, Sin hasn't left the training room, and you can't pull Kate or Kurt or Cassie away from the living room for anything that's not a mission. Even Steve just had a moment — I've never seen him do whatever that was, but it was no good," Clint said earnestly.
"What do you suggest I do?" Coulson asked. "They're only here between missions and you know as well as I do that if I cut them from watching, there'll be an uprising. I can't bring Xavier down until this is over or I would. So … what should we do?"
"I … dunno," Clint admitted. "But you gotta do something. They can't go on like this or I swear, one of them is just gonna… drop. Step up the Tahiti voodoo or… or step up the revolution. I dunno."
Coulson looked thoughtful for a moment as he considered his options. "Can't step up the revolution, that's already not in the cards. But ... there were some missions I was going to have them all run while the new victor is getting prepped for the crowd after the Games. Nothing heavy — surveillance, try to establish a new contact with the rebels in Eleven…"
"Might work, but I'm telling you, Coulson. If they think you're just keeping 'em busy…" Clint shook his head. "You're gonna need Charles down here pronto."
"I can't tell them who's on the list," he replied. "I don't want to raise anyone's spirits prematurely and have to deal with the fallout if it fails."
"Yeah, that would make it worse." Clint sighed and shrugged his shoulders up before he paused once more. "For your sake, though, better be every single one of those kids. And the kid from Seven, too — Katie was telling me Skye nearly had a fit over him."
Coulson let out a sigh. "He's not dead yet," he said. "He's still got a chance."
Clint smirked. "Careful, sir. You're not supposed to have favorites."
"Supposed to ... " Coulson shook his head. "Everyone plays favorites."
"Guess that's true." Clint paused for a moment and tipped his head to the side. "Speaking of… how's Bobbi?" he asked carefully. "Haven't seen her in over a month."
"She's doing her job … and it's taken her somewhere she hadn't expected."
"That's pretty much how covert crap always works, isn't it?" Clint pointed out. "Next time you see her, just… tell her I was thinking about her, wouldja? Not the same around here."
"She'll be down at the end of the Games — unless this new job takes her back to Two," Coulson said. "But I think she'll need a boost before that happens."
"That bad, huh?" Clint asked, completely openly.
Coulson considered how much Bobbi would tell him and then slowly nodded. "She's making friendly with her old mentor."
Clint frowned at that. "She's a piece of work. Didn't even really meet her during my Games, but she is."
"She's up to something big; we just don't know what."
"Well, any support I can give her, let me know. Even if it's clad in black and she doesn't know it."
"She may need it before it's over," he agreed.
Clint just nodded and stood to leave. "Oh, hey, and by the way, killed that guy you wanted dead."
"I assumed as much," Coulson said with a nod. "I'm sending the girls out tomorrow. They may need a big brother to keep an eye on them on their mission."
"Hey, you know I'm always up for whatever you need. Only don't tell 'em I'm big brothering them. They don't like stuff like that."
"Your official role will be 'pilot'," Coulson said.
"I can run with that," Clint agreed. "See ya tomorrow, boss."
Triskellion
Skye wasn't quite freaking out as badly as she had been the night before, but she had all this leftover energy from the terror that had gripped her, and she hadn't exactly been able to sleep, either.
But that was when she got her best work done.
She had her laptop pulled up on her knees and a cup of coffee in her hand. She hadn't left her room — or really, her bed — pretty much all day, instead focusing on the snooping she had decided to do so she could distract herself from everything awful that was going on.
So when there was a knock at the door, she totally wasn't prepared for it.
"Just a sec," she called out, quickly climbing out from under the covers as she put the coffee aside and scrambled to the door, wondering if she'd missed a memo about a party she was supposed to go to or a meeting she was supposed to attend. "Hey, AC," she said when she saw Coulson. "What's up?"
"Just wanted to check in with you. Make sure that you heard that the rebel from Eleven is in good shape, healing well. And … be sure that you are handling these Games alright. All things considered."
Skye shook her head at him for a moment. "All things considered, I haven't broken anyone's nose, so I think I'm handling it okay," she told him frankly. "But I'm glad to hear it — about the rebel that is. They were a good group of guys when I talked with them.
"That's good to hear, considering how this one returned to us."
"Yeah, I heard about the hand and the leg," Skye said with a frown.
"Skye," he said, though he paused for a moment. "Your friend isn't out of the game yet. He still has a shot."
"Yeah, I know. I saw the morning report when Clara and Kamala found him," Skye said, though she could feel her throat constrict when Coulson brought it up. She hated how terrified she was this year… and she hated that she knew what would happen even if Scott did win. She took a deep breath. "Hey, Coulson," she said suddenly. "Have you got, like, ten minutes? There's something I gotta show you."
He tipped his head her way and watched her for a second, and when she just held his gaze, he nodded softly. "Of course."
"Great." She held up both hands to signal him to wait, and when she returned a moment later, she had her laptop in one hand and was motioning for him to move with the other. "Um — I'd invite you into my place, but it's sort of a mess ... can we use yours? This might take a… bit."
"What is it you need?" he asked, moving out of her way.
"Oh, so many things," she said, completely seriously as she led him to a counter and set her laptop in front of him, pulling up the research she'd been doing. "So." She turned to face him better. "When I'm mad, I like to… well. Get into stuff I'm not supposed to."
"So all the time? Skye, I had no idea you had that kind of an anger issue," he replied with a tiny smirk.
"Har har." She rolled her eyes at him. "No, I mean… really important stuff. That I should not be getting into. Like maybe the records the princesses are keeping for a certain side business that I totally don't know about but which is the stupidest thing ever."
"Is there any particular reason you've been digging into this business?" Coulson asked, one eyebrow raised just slightly.
"Besides the fact that it's wrong and it makes me mad?" Skye asked.
"You sure it's not because you're worried about a certain victor or two?"
"That's not the point here," she said, waving him off. "The point is — well. I want to know how much you know about the leverage that they're using, because I have a list."
He looked openly surprised for a moment. "You have the list?"
Skye shrugged. "I was mad. I told you — I can get into anything when I'm mad and I've got a good computer to work with." She watched his expression. "I can make you a copy, but AC - if you want it, you have to promise me these people, the ones that are being used and don't even know it? You have to promise me they get out as soon as the revolution starts, because these are exactly the people who will get hit when the Capitol retaliates."
He watched her for a moment as she fiddled with the rings on her finger. "Yes," he said finally, nodding his head. "Yes, of course." He stopped and gave her a long look. "Is this the only list you've found?"
"Well." She hedged for a moment. "There's an official list, but the one I'm giving you is bigger. Includes more names in case something happens to the official ones."
"Yes, but … maybe if you get a little extra rage going on, you can look for another list. One that AD Hill needs corroborated."
"Well, considering how the Games have been going so far, I'm sure I could build up a little rage," she said, watching him almost carefully and biting her bottom lip as she considered it. "Or maybe send me to a Capitol party for ten minutes…"
"Would it help or hurt your cause if I told you that the boy from Seven has a parachute with his name on it?"
Her entire expression lit up, and she stared at him openly before she simply wrapped him in a quick hug. "Oh good. He needs it," she said once she'd released him. She beamed at him and then knocked him in the shoulder with her fist. "Don't you worry, AC. I'll get you the clientele list and still be in a good mood. I'm just that good."
"Good luck with that — both sides of it," he said, though he couldn't quite pull back the smirk all the same. "There isn't supposed to be any record of the clients, but I have a hard time believing that."
"Maybe there's not a record of names, but bank account numbers, addresses… there are recognizable patterns to follow, I promise. I could probably track them down by the IP addresses they use to coordinate their, um, purchases."
"I can give you a couple of dates and amounts to make sure you have the right track," Coulson told her. "Only a couple though."
"That would be perfect," she agreed, nodding as her eyes were sparkling with the possibilities for her new project. "If I can even get one or two corroborated, it'll get me in the door."
"I can give you the names for those two," Coulson said. "We pretty much have everything on those two … but they might help you find a pattern."
"Thanks a mil, Coulson," she said warmly. "I'll have this wrapped up by the end of the Games — just you wait."
