So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album listed on my profile page too.
DAY TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
1930 HOURS
GOLDMANS GYM
BROOKLYN
STEVE ROGERS
"Then you should be out, celebrating..." The person who appeared after I annihilated the first of what I planned to many sandbags for the night wasn't Nora. They weren't even a woman, and weren't carrying a first aid kit. It was the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D, a man I really only met once, in Time Square.
After standing in front of the brick building for a while and just looking at the sign like I expected something from it, I walked in and up to the owner's office. After a small exchange of words and money, I had the keys to the building in my hand for the night, and he had double what he suggested as rent for the night plus the cost of seven new sandbags and the promise to clean up after myself. If I needed more then that I'd work the rest of the memories out running.
I was only on my second bag, but when he made it clear this wasn't going to be a passing visit, I stopped with that bag. I wasn't glad to see him, but his visit served the same purpose as the punching. It was a distraction, and a simple enough one. I'm a soldier, he was a superior officer, I could get lost for a little while in the structure of that.
I thought I could forget my past for a moment by drifting into the mindset of a soldier, then he handed me a folder with my past printed on it in glowing blue. I saw that thing disintegrate a man in a beam of light and melt its way through a metal floor. I thought I saw the last of it and was okay with that. I didn't know what it was, but I saw its by product obliterate plenty of soldiers with a single shot. Whatever it was it was dangerous.
That made his statement about Howard keeping it when he found it something I should have expected.
I didn't have a lot of time to think about it, but it makes sense because Howard, as well as the army would have sent search parties out to look for me. Knowing Howard I'm sure he kept looking for me long after the army gave up. He had the money, and as it turns out the man power to do it. The organization that found me in the ice is the organization he founded. Him and Peggy. They found me after all.
I wouldn't think about that right now though, I was still thinking as a soldier. The director wouldn't be handing me this file if there wasn't a good reason to do so, a reason I can guess. I asked who took it from him, both for a name and a confirmation that it had been taken, and he gave me both.
He replied, "If your in..." as if I could hear that information and not volunteer for the fight. I faced its power before first hand, I knew what to expect from it and from the men who would wield it. I didn't know who this 'Loki' was but I didn't really need to. There was only one reason to take something like that, and that was if he planned to use it for something.
I'd join the fight, because it was the right thing to do. I'd step into the boots of Captain America again because it meant saving lives and protecting the innocent from the harm and horror this thing could create. I'd apologize to Nora for it later, she'll be mad at me for taking the risk but I know she'll understand.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
1956 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA ELAINE
Oh God, what have I done? Just wanted to help my friends, I just, I just don't know what else I could have done. I was going to let him do whatever he wanted with me. I said he could have me, I was ready to try and give him everything, and it still wasn't enough.
He said I wasn't ready. He was probably right, I probably wasn't but if my willingness to give up everything can't save my friends what else could I give?
I gave up blood and skin too. I beat my fists against that door so much I started leaving pink smears on its surface from wearing off my skin. I didn't care. I wanted to break the door down with my bare hands,
I even tried gouging a hole through it with one of the forks, but it didn't take very long for the teeth to get stuck in the wood and the handle to snap off under the pressure, skinning a red line on the back of my hand when it did. I didn't even try to yank it back out, I just went right back to hitting the door with my hands and screaming.
I'm not screaming anymore though I'm silent and I'm still. My throat feels raw despite the tears drying on my skin, and my hands are so bruised my fingers won't open. I'm just sitting here where I landed after I let my legs give out, in a spot next to the door frame.
They're dead, I killed them, how is everything going so wrong?!
I didn't even acknowledge Jareth's concerned calls for my attention as he watched me with flat ears from his place on the bed. A place he isn't moving from probably out of fear of me right now. I wouldn't hurt him, but I'm beyond caring about him right now. He isn't in harms way and that's all that matters, if I scared him he will get over it soon.
Even the sound of the door opening, and the second of silence before a pair of worn out combat boots and camouflage pants step to a stop in front of me doesn't matter enough anymore to make me move. I don't care, I have nothing left, I just want it to be over.
It isn't until I hear the thud of his little body jump off the bed and Jareth's claws click against the floor as he walks over to rub against the soldier's leg and the soldier starts to react that I finally find the drive to show a reaction. The reaction hurts my hand but spares my kitten.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
1958 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
DUNCAN BLACKWOOD
After Terrance and I finished setting up the thing the boss asked for I left Terrance to do the rest he asked for and go get the lady.
When I reached the door, it was unnervingly quiet given all the noise she had been making, and she'd been making a whole lot. I actually had to start giving orders to the scientists and some of my men to ignore it, because lets be honest, hearing a woman begging with sobbing screams can make your head go to funny places, believe me I know.
The fact that my first scan of the room didn't show me where she was made me even more nervous. Christ, please don't let her be that kind of stupid. There wasn't supposed to be anything in here too dangerous for her, and I doubt the boss would have left her with anything he thought might be, but if she tried to hurt herself I'm screwed.
I always figured my death would be a messy one, but I'll be damned if I go out like that hacker. The bloody smears on the inside of the door was really not helping my predictions of my future.
I felt relief when I looked around the other side of the door, but a mountain of pity. She looked worse then the fresh and clean woman I left in here. Her knees have dirt embedded into the dress, with part of the skirt even torn off except from a few clinging threads; there's even spots of mud staining the cloth as much as her skin, mud I know exists from her tears.
Why is it every time I see her see looks worse off than before? What am I helping him do to her?
Those thoughts peeter off for a moment when I feel a warm little mass press itself into my ankle, it turns out to be that cat of her's. Last time I saw the thing it was sleeping off some really good pain meds, and if I'm honest I liked it that way better. Cats are nothing but little demonic beasts if you ask me and I have no use for them, I'd much rather deal with a well trained dog.
That's why when it looked up at me with those lying green eyes and acted like it was going to try and climb my pants I went to push it away with my foot right before my other shin explodes with pain.
Skipping a little to correct my stumble I only vaguely hear the thing release a snarling hiss before it turns into a tan blur that disappears somewhere but I'm more concerned with the other angry presence in the room.
"Don't touch my cat asshole." I know that voice, but the soft tone of calm anger but that hate in her green eyes doesn't fit at all, and neither does what she just did. "Did ye jist jimmy me in th' shin?!"
I don't get a spoken answer to that as I watch her pull her hand back to the halo around her knees it had been making before, but still receive one from the dark red stain stripping across my pants from where she did actually punch me!
Why she thought punching was a good idea I don't know, I would have gone for a kick and chosen the knee over the shin, or tried for a rolling leg lock given the position she is in. A punch just makes no sense, it just reinforces the fact they never bothered to train her at all.
"Hey..." I'm not surprised when she chooses to ignore the plea in my voice and settle back into herself, nor am I put off by it. If anything the sharp sniff of pain as her hand brushes against her arm while it settles into place only motivates me more. "...yoo shoods lit me swatch at those."
The 'go away' wasn't a surprise either, but it is a little annoying. I know she's upset, but I am trying to be the good guy and help. Letting out a sigh I adjust the legs of my pants a little before hunkering down to be on her level. "I'm afraid Ah cannae dae 'at lil hen. lit me check yer hans okay?"
"They're fine." She fires back without heat behind the words. Those damp red rimmed eyes of her flicking to mine from their vantage past her knees. She's clearly been crying a while to make them that bloodshot. Makes me feel like a jerk just for listening to it the whole time but I couldn't do anything else. If I came in here uninvited I'd walk out to a spear in my chest. "Their bleedin' loove."
"They'll stop." Is her reply while she makes absolutely no effort to quicken that process or hide them from view. She's really beyond the concern of self, so I'll try a different tactic.
"Yeah, eventually but ye don't want tae boss tae see ye loch thes." The tactic got me some results, but not quite the ones I was aiming for. That fire flashes back in those forest green eyes of her's, just like when she called me an asshole.
"Damn him..." and I have to admit, that even though I've seen it once already, its just as surprising coming out of her, I didn't think she had it in her. I like how it looks on her. "Let that bastard see."
"Weel noo, yer tongues gotten affa colorful." The comment doesn't get much out of her, with exception to minuscule shift of her shoulder that was either a shrug or an attempt to get comfortable. Either way that doesn't matter cause that one wasn't aiming for a response, but this one is. "Wanna teel me what's loosened it?"
"No, you should leave." The order only added to my collection of predictable responses from her, but this one I sort of wanted because it opened up my next sentence.
"Yeah, Ah probably shoods." I tell her back before straightening my knees again, not liking the slight popping sound one of them makes, but burying that thought as I join her against her wall to find out what is so comfortable about the floor, trying to remember which pocket I put it that tin in.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
2003 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA ELAINE
The sound of metal scraping against metal reaches my ears in a sound that I recognize very easily having made the same sounds before in my kitchen. Its the sound of a can being opened, and it makes me aim a silent glare his direction. Its a dirty tactic.
"Ye loch tuna sweetheart?" He asks, meeting my sideways look as he finishes slicing the lid open and hooks the jagged edge with his fingernail to lift it. "Its th' guid mince, nae MRE rations Ah tryst." The knowing smirk in his eyes that he is trying to keep off his lips only makes my jaw clench harder as he holds the can in front of me for a moment.
"Nae, ye sure?" He asks when I make no effort to accept it, then after pulling it back to himself with a shrug he pulls out a piece with his fingers before popping it in his mouth making a show of licking his fingers clean despite my attempt to ignore him.
Then he plucks out another and lets his hand extend toward the floor with it. "Tch, tch, tch, whit abit ye wee bloke, ye want it? Come an' gie it."
All it took was the sight and a twitching whiskered nose crossing the barrier of light and shadow from beneath the quilt hanging over the bed from me to put my hand in the figurative bear trap.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
2005 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
DUNCAN BLACKWOOD
I figured since nothing else seemed to be motivating her to respond I would go back to the one thing the that I knew would get a reaction out of her. Her kitten she swung her bloody knuckles into my leg over.
When the kitten came out to investigate the scent of ocean fish she tried to take the can I was offering it out of my hand, and reached across me to do so. Definitely not trained. She made it way too easy for me if I wanted to use that opportunity to put her in a restraining hold. Instead to her suspicious confusion I simply handed her the lidless can of tuna.
The kitten seems to come with a guarantee and in this case its her good behavior its guaranteeing. Without the lid the kitten is going to be obsessed with the scent of fish, and as long as I don't do anything to threaten it she won't do anything that will drive it away. Its underhanded, I know, but I'm me.
"Whats th' moggie named efter? anythin'?" I asked the question casually, and a am not surprised by her look of defensive irritation at the fact that I've taken interest in the kitten. Given I tried to shoo it away forcefully with my foot earlier I bet she just wishes I'd forget about its existence, which I might if her own actions weren't making it my ace in the hole.
"Nae, still nae 'spikin tae me hmm?" My answer is petulant silence as she lets the kitten rest in the safety of her lap and inhales the fish right out of the can, but its okay. "That's braw, Ah can gab enaw fur baith ay us. aam named efter mah dad, th' auld cheil didn't waste his creativity oan things loch 'at Ah guess."
The kitten finds a particularly large chunk and pulls it out of the tin, to rest on her dress as it starts wearing it down sloppily with its molars. Hope the boss doesn't get mad about it making the dress...dirtier. "Bin a lot ay places. Australia, aw ower th' Middle Eest, Philadelphia ance, Hang Kang, Bogota, Rrazil, th' Himalayas, e'en worked in France ance, thocht almost ended up blin' oan mah left side cause ay 'at place sae Ah cannae say Ah loch France. whit abit ye lil ...?"
"You forgot the Scottish Highlands." She whispers absently, her eyes watching that creature licking its paws to clean its face of tuna juice. "Caithness?" She narrows down her observation as an after thought, her tone suggesting the same amount of vacancy between her words and her thoughts.
"Thurso actually, near Doonreay" I narrow it down even further with a suspicious edge to my curious tone. "But yer damn close..." Caithness is the part of Scotland Thurso is in. "Haw did ye ken 'at?" I know it isn't hard at all to identify my accent is a Scottish one, but she narrowed it down so close I have trouble chalking it up to a guess.
"I was a guide for a little while." She surrenders the information with what sounds like sadness despite the static expression on her face. "A group from the reactor came once."
"They braw tae ye?" Her brow tightens a little over who I mean by 'they' as she shifts only her eyes in my direction for a moment. "Th' fowk ye guided? they waur braw tae ye?"
"Yes, they were." There's a spark of life in her face when she says that, but its a bittersweet spark. One she tries to smooth the edges off by focusing her efforts on petting her kitten. It chirps a little at the first caress, looking up at her with a slow blink of contentment before it offers its chin to her for scratching as it rattles out its pleasure.
"Ye miss it don't ye lil hen?" She agrees with a bobbing nod and a quick attempt at a smirk. "It gave me a sense of direction. It was nice."
Both of us are silent for a moment in agreement to that statement. I can certainly get behind that belief. There's a certain peace in having a set task. You don't have to think about it, and can take a degree of pride in your work, even if it was just making sure we made it to our meeting with the Director on time.
Alright Soldier, you have let her linger in sorrow long enough. I shift my shoulders as I clear my throat for second then pull open the flap of my jacket to access that inner pocket. "Ye loch a bevvy by onie chance lil hen?"
Her eyebrow raises so high it puts a few new lines in her forehead, but I can't tell if its more out of surprise or disbelief at my offer or uncertainty what 'bevvy' means. However either way its not going to stop me from feeding my tastes. Taking a swig of it to prove its as innocent as alcohol can be I hold it out in offering. God knows she looks like she could use it.
She doesn't take it for a moment, and I'm beginning to think she won't as she continues to just stare at the dented metal and worn leather suspended by my fingers. "I hate alcohol actually." Her sentence only furthers my belief, right before her next one changes my mind. "How much can I have?"
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
2012 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA ELAINE
He must have expected my refusal, because he chuckled a little in dismay at my question, then he smothered it back with seriousness. "Its Wild Geese." He explains, but when he realizes that the name means nothing to me he clears it up a different way. "Its irish whiskey. Got abit a scuttle shots left lil hen, haur ye gang."
The bottle is warm when I take it from him, our fingers brushing a little given the small size. He has rough fingers, a sign of his lifestyle I guess. They actually feel rougher than the leather on the flask. Its a nice flask, I can tell he likes it too. The leather isn't dry and hard, its still soft despite its obvious age. He seems to take good care of his things.
"What will it taste like?" I ask, mostly just hoping to hear it won't taste like my memory of Sam Adams, but only half hoping because it could taste like what I imagine Balut would for all I care I just would prefer it to not taste like beer. "Its got a bit ay honey an' citrus tay it, but tae ye..."
I went right ahead and skipped the listening to the answer part. The shuddering fit of violent coughing I broke out into was enough to startle Jareth out of my lap, and turning around he sits down near Duncan before leveling an offended gaze on me as he starts smoothing out his ruffled fur."...tastes like ...wet fire?!"
"'At it diz hen." He laughs back with a light huff. "Especially fur someain loch ye. Shoods probably slaw doon a wee thocht." He adds before he holds out his hand for it.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
2014 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
DUNCAN BLACKWOOD
Oh, Christ if that look isn't cute on her. When I held out my hand for the flask her face shifted to a greedy and protective pout. She has the kind of face that naturally takes on a childish innocence sometimes, and right now I gotta say it, she looks like a little girl who should be saying 'nuh uh, mine.' with a teddy bear in her hand.
"Skitin' buddy etiquette lil hen, sip an' pass." I can see her process that sentence, just like I can see her racking her brain for anything tidbit of knowledge that will tell her if I'm lying about that or not. So I add another layer in my favor. "Plus its mah flask."
It succeeds, and makes her hold it back out to me, but its a sour victory. She looks like she misses it all ready. But it makes the echo of surprised delight in her sad eyes when I take my shot and hold it back out to her all the sweeter.
"Whit?" I swish it a little for the sound. "There's still some liquid coorage in it, an' ye need it mair 'en th' flask diz." She takes it back a bit too quickly to pass for cool, which makes me smirk a little at her, and smirk a little more when only after she has it in her possession that she dares to ask."What about you?"
"Sweetheart, Ah hae a whole bottle it thaur tae refill 'at wi'. Dornt fash yerse abit it." She nods, wearing a still weak but somewhat stronger imitation of happy understanding. Then her face twists up with a sharp sniff as she tries to shake away the burn from what looked like another double shot going down her throat.
Damn... I think as I evaluate the weight when she hands me the flask back. ...four shots in as many minutes, this lil booze virgin's gonna regret that real quick. I muse as I finish the last shots worth.
Behave. Come that voice of reason again. Reminding me how much her pretty face is a danger to my health. She is not yours for the taking. She belongs to the boss. He may have said to go get her, and not hurry her, but that doesn't give me rights to her. Remember that Soldier.
I'm only two shots in the hole, I shouldn't feel this stupid on a girl after two shots, so I shake it off and tip the flask upside to show her. "Aw gain lil hen."
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
2017 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA ELAINE
I'm disappointed with its absence. I can feel it warming my flesh and numbing the edges of my thoughts a little, but I wanted it to do a lot more. I've heard it can make people forget if they drink enough. I don't think I've had anywhere near enough for that even if this stuff is much stronger then the beers Clint made me drink.
"I think..." I hesitate for a moment as his eyes meet mine curiously, the light reflecting over them making them look brighter than the brown I remember. They look almost the same shade as honey for a second before the trick of the light vanishes. "...there's some wine in here."
He laughs at that for a second. "Loove, I'm nae sure ye want tae gie blooter'd aroond me. Its nae a guid idea okay?" He says with a gentle smile as he warns me of the risks, risks that probably apply to him too. Except I don't have reasons to care anymore.
"Why? Because you like me Duncan?" The statement caught him off guard given his sharp huff of a sound and his lack of words. "I'm not stupid, okay, I know I'm dangerous because I'm his property now, so you don't have to answer. Can I just ask you to do something for me?"
He is silent for a moment, clearly thinking over that request and how much trouble it might bring him if he agrees to it. Then he shifts his weight and stands up, but it isn't to leave. Its to wrap his hand around the neck of that fancy pitcher, and grab a few of those empty jars between his fingers.
When his feet stop back in front of me and he stands there silently for a second I decide to lift my head to look at more than his knees. He looks determined, and disappointed in himself all at the same time.
"Yoo're reit, yoo're gorgeoos, an' that's got me kin' ay glaikit aroond ye." He pauses. "Ask yer question." He orders as he holds the jars out for me to take. But my eyes don't really focus on those as I mentally prepare myself for this. They are focused on tan fur and blue eyes. "I know you don't like cats, but can you take care of my kitten when he tells you to kill me too?"
NOTES FOR THE READERS:
In case anyone is unfamiliar with it, BALUT is a developing duck embryo that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It is commonly sold as streetfood in the Philippines. They seem to like it, but the rest of the world considers it to be pretty terrible.
Dounreay Scotland is a comic book reference. NICK FURY, AGENT OF S.H.I.E.L.D. VOL 3 #21
Also, the Wild Geese Irish whiskey, is a nod to one of Duncans inspirations. Pip Bernadotte from Hellsing. He is a mercenary who leads a group called the Wild Geese. He is also french, but since what he inspired about Duncan was more personality based his ethnicity doesn't matter to much. I also included more references to Pip in the list of places Duncan has been. If you are a fan of the Hellsing series I'm sure you will recognize them.
DUNCANS ACCENT TRANSLATIONS:
Did ye jist jimmy me in th' shin?! = Did you just punch me in the shin?!
...yoo shoods lit me swatch at those. = ...you should let me look at those.
I'm afraid Ah cannae dae 'at lil hen. lit me check yer hans okay? = I'm afraid I cant do that little hen. Let me check your hands okay?
Their bleedin' loove. = their bleeding love.
Yeah, eventually but ye don't want th' boss tae see ye loch thes. = Yeah, eventually but you don't want the boss to see you like this.
Weel noo, yer tongues gotten affa colorful. = well now, your tongues gotten awfully colorful.
Wanna teel me what's loosened it? = Wanna tell me what's loosened it?
Yeah, Ah probably shoods. = yeah, I probably should.
Ye loch tuna sweetheart? = you like tuna sweetheart?
Its th' guid mince, nae MRE rations Ah tryst. = its the good stuff, not MRE rations I promise.
Nae, ye sure? = no, you sure?
Tch, tch, tch, whit abit ye wee bloke, ye want it? come an' gie it. = Tch, tch, tch, what about you little guy, you want it? Come and get it.
What's th' moggie named efter? anythin'? = What's the cat named after? Anything?
Nae, still nae 'spikin tae me hmm? = No, still not speaking to me hmm?
That's braw, Ah can gab enaw fur baith ay us. aam named efter mah dad, th' auld cheil didn't waste his creativity oan things loch 'at Ah guess. = That's fine, I can talk enough for both of us. I'm named after my dad, the old man didn't waste his creativity on things like that I guess.
Bin a lot ay places. Australia, aw ower th' Middle Eest, Philadelphia ance, Hang Kang, Bogota, Rrazil, th' Himalayas, e'en worked in France ance, thocht almost ended up blin' oan mah left side cause ay 'at place sae Ah cannae say Ah loch France. whit abit ye lil ...? = Been a lot of places. Australia, all over the Middle East, Philadelphia once, Hong Kong, Bogota, Brazil, the Himalayas, even worked in France once, though almost ended up blind on my left side cause of that place so I can't say I like France. What about you lil ...?
Thurso actually, near Doonreay. = Thurso actually, near Dounreay.
But yer damn close... = But your damn close...
...haw did ye ken 'at? = ...how did you know that?
"They braw tae ye? = They nice to you?
Th' fowk ye guided? they waur braw tae ye? = The people you guided? They were nice to you?
Ye miss it don't ye lil hen? = You miss it don't you lil hen?
Ye loch a bevvy by onie chance lil hen? = You like a drink by any chance lil hen?
Its Irish whiskey. got abit a scuttle shots left lil hen, haur ye gang. = Its Irish whiskey. got about six shots left lil hen, here you go.
Its got a bit ay honey an' citrus tay it, but tae ye... = Its got a bit of honey and citrus too it, but to you...
'at it diz hen. = That it does darling.
Especially fur someain loch ye. shoods probably slaw doon a wee thocht. = Especially for someone like you. Should probably slow down a little though.
"Skitin' buddy etiquette lil hen, sip an' pass. = Drinking buddy etiquette lil hen, sip and pass.
Plus its mah flask. = Plus its my flask.
Whit? = What?
There's still some liquid coorage in it, an' ye need it mair 'en th' flask diz. = There's still some liquid courage in it, and you need it more then the flask does.
"Sweetheart, Ah hae a whole bottle it thaur tae refill 'at wi'. Dornt fash yerse abit it. = Sweetheart, I have a whole bottle out there to refill that with. Don't worry about it.
Aw gain lil hen. = All gone lil hen.
Loove, I'm nae sure ye want tae gie blooter'd aroond me. Its nae a guid idea okay? = Love, I'm not sure you want to get drunk around me. Its not a good idea okay?
Yoo're reit, yoo're gorgeoos, an' that's got me kin' ay glaikit aroond ye. = you're right, you're gorgeous, and that's got me kind of stupid around you.
Ask yer question. = Ask your question.