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. (My apologies. I didn't realize FF removed the links. I have corrected the problem in what way I can, so for those who like the visual additions, feel free to check them out.)
DAY FOUR
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THREE
FRIDAY, MAY 4TH 2012
1057 HOURS
BELVEDERE CASTLE, CENTRAL PARK
79TH ST
WINTER SOLDIER
Target # 1 mission requirements: Deliver alive and unharmed, remove all interference.
Her leg was broken. She had multiple stab wounds, a large bite wound which showed evidence of substantial blood loss, and the wet wheeze on the end of each breath suggested broken ribs if not a punctured lung.
The contents of the syringe would reduce her to a weak and manageable state, and cause her immense pain. I knew that, I know that? It made her muscles cramp up, it made it very hard for her to breath. It would kill her if it entered her bloodstream. So I removed the interference.
My commander and the three others went down quickly, and so did target #3. He was already incapacitated, I simply rendered him unconscious.
The woman had fainted as well, if she even achieved full consciousness after she started breathing again. That was alright, because if she was unconscious she wouldn't be aware of her pain. The morphine pen I found in one of the STRIKE teams pockets as I collected ammo clips would also help.
She made a small sound as it broke her skin, but stilled again when my fingertips touched her skin while I checked her pulse.
I needed to take her somewhere safe. A place I could defend until her condition stabilized. I choose the castle in the park.
I'd have to carry her, and him. That concerned me a little. In her condition no matter how I carried her it would cause her some pain, but the morphine should cover most of that, and the mission required I move quickly. She ended up over my back in a fireman's carry, her arm with the least injuries is in my hand to keep her from sliding off, and her unbroken leg is held by the inside of my forearm .
As for him I just wrapped my metal arm around his waist, and let the machine bare the weight.
I had to break the door lock to get inside, but that was alright because there was plenty of heavy objects I could brace it with, and the entrance was small, allowing only a single intruder through it at a time.
I let the man fall to the floor as soon as we were inside, but as for her I took the time to carefully lay her on the round green table. She was more important to me then he was.
I left her just long enough to barricade the broken door. I ripped one of the desks off the wall it was bolted to, and lining up the draws on the end with the grooves in the large tiles, I muscle the other end against the top of the door. The wood broke a little at the edges as it was forced inside the round stone doorframe.
Then I turned my attention back to her, and her leg. It was definitely broken, perhaps in multiple places. I would have to splint it, but that wasn't a problem, because we were surrounded by plenty of stools.
FRIDAY, MAY 4TH 2012
1058 HOURS
BELVEDERE CASTLE, CENTRAL PARK
79TH ST
DUNCAN AKA ALEX
I've been shot, tased, and burned, and then this inconsiderate asshole dropped me on my bad leg like a sack of potatoes. I'm surprised I didn't yell at that, but even my instincts were smart enough to know better. He wasn't paying attention to me, and that was the best situation I could be in right now.
We were in some sort of building, an old building. Heavy stone walls, clear stain glass windows in iron window frames. And lots of green wooden furniture. Maybe a small museum or an educational center. Or a really big cage, I amend when I notice the damn desk he shoved in the doorframe. Might as well be a damn tree for all that I could move it, even if if I wasn't halfway through a meat grinder.
I was sitting there, being quite like a rabbit in a push, looking for an option that didn't involve ending up eaten by a wolf, but that didn't mean I wasn't keenly aware of every muscle he moved.
He snapped apart a stool like it was a twig and then ripped some cords right off the wall. Then the next things his hands created was the sound of scraping bones and her scream.
FRIDAY, MAY 4TH 2012
1059 HOURS
BELVEDERE CASTLE, CENTRAL PARK
79TH ST
WINTER SOLDIER
I was wrong about it being broken in multiple places despite the massive amount of bruising I saw. I only felt one distortion under her skin as I carefully removed the boot. The footwear actually did her some good it seems, as the bone didn't break the skin. It meant I only had to set one fracture.
Her leg kicked when I realized it, but I knew it would and already had my hand on her thigh to hold it in place. I set the stool legs on either side in preparation, and had the electric cord laid out too which made the process much quicker despite the thickness of the cord, or the fact I was doing this without help.
The bite wound on her other leg prevented her from kicking me before the attempt even got far. Being woke like that seemed to have caught her by surprise, but the pain reminded her of its existence almost immediately, particularly in her ribs.
After I finished with her legs and let go she tried to roll over, the sound of her breathing making it very clear why. I would have let her if it wasn't for the fact she seemed unaware that she was on a table.
Before she can roll off the table I rest one of my knees on the bench attached to it and lean over letting my hand grasp the her shoulder to roll her back to safety.
She's frightened and in and pain, so her attempt to hit me is understandable, but her sudden surrender after I catch her hand in mine is not.
Her eyes are still still pretty. They are open, slightly. She must have been struck in the face because the lids seems swollen, and I can see red in the whites of her eyes, alongside the green as she looks at me.
The red leaves her eyes shortly after that, in the form of pink tears, but that injury isn't my primary concern. Its her consciousness. I know she can heal, and I know she does it easier when she sleeps. When she has someone to help her heal, and she isn't trying to gasp out words. " j..., ja..., ...eh..."
Sliding my hand from up from her wrist I let my fingers curl into the flesh of her palm as I move both of them. They find their place against the wood of the table by her head, because the position also lets my wrist touch her cheek. The contact is important, she needs to touch someone before can do heal. She doesn't even seem to notice my other hand until the needle touches her skin.
Morphine wasn't the only injection pen the STRIKE Agent had on him, there was a tranquilizer too. "Shh, you need to rest."
FRIDAY, MAY 4TH 2012
1100 HOURS
BELVEDERE CASTLE, CENTRAL PARK
79TH ST
AR(NORA)
There was no life flashing before my eyes, I didn't think there would be, there never was before, and I always thought that was crap anyways. But this was better. I wasn't seeing my life as I died, I was seeing a ghost.
I remember drowning, and then the feel of someone's skin against my lips right before I started breathing again. I remember being barely able to see let alone sit up, and the sound of someone speaking. I remember the voice being familiar even though I couldn't recognize it, and I remember distrusting it and the metal I felt poke my skin.
Then I woke to a leg in agony, and a hand on my shoulder, and the face of James.
God, I missed him so much. didn't even remember him, but I still felt his absence. I knew there was someone I was missing.
He always talked about taking me dancing, even though I told him I didn't dance for other people. He said I didn't have to, that I shouldn't. That if I dance it should just be for myself, and maybe him. He said he couldn't wait to see me in a dress. He'd save his money just to get me a nice one. Something blue, with polka dot like the women in the magazines.
Nora always wanted polka dot dress, she was just too scared to expose that much skin. And then it was ruined by another 'memory' of a dress. He put me in a dress too once, the Red Skull. I woke up in it, before I realized I was dealing with a monster wrapped in a man. When I was Nora, I saw a dress like that and it terrified me so much I tore it to pieces. Every second I didn't understand why it scared me so much only made me more afraid. I gave up on the idea of desses after that.
He was going to take me home. He always said that, he never gave up on that idea. He never let me give up on that, he kept making that promise so much I let myself risk believing in that hope. Brooklyn he said, or if that was too much, he had family in Vermont. They had a place in the country. He'd never been there so he didn't even know what the place looked like, but he knew they were good people, and they'd be happy to put them up until she got better.
He didn't know what it looked like, so neither did I and my dreams filled in the gaps themselves. That cabin by the lake with fruit trees, and him. I didn't even know who the man was. I thought he was just a collection of traits. But we were safe and happy, in our place in the country. I kept him there in my subconscious, in a world I created were we got to be in love.
I made such a horrible mistake. They tell cautionary tales about it on Asgard, how the greatest tragedy is an Asgardian who gives their heart to a mortal. Human's short lives are not their fault, despite the rarity of it in the nine realms. 'Falling in love with mortality has broken many hearts and will break your's too if you lets it' they say, but in all my 800 years before him, I never felt anything close to what I felt for James.I thought I knew what love was supposed to feel like, I had a husband and a man who tempted my heart everyday, but I learned it through the bars of a cage.
He gave me back my desire to live. I just wanted the pain to stop, I just wanted to die. If I did there would be no more experiments, no more torture, no more poisoning or surgeries. But despite my best efforts he broke my resistance down and he got inside my heart, he made me want something other then surrender. That's what broke me the most.
I saw him on the floor, bleeding from his head as they continued to beat him, as they dragged me away. I stepped in front of the gun to try and keep him safe, and it wasn't enough. I knew they killed him then.
I had to lose my memory and become someone new to learn he survived that. Only to die later. He talked so fondly of his small sickly friend, Steve. I heard so much about that man that I loved him too, the same way James did. A stubborn fool who was too noble for his own good.
It would be just the three of us, taking care of each other he said. They'd give me my own room of course, even if they had to sleep on the couch or the floor, and Steve could paint a rug on the floor for me until we got a real one. Society would think it was indecent, a women living with men she wasn't married to, Steve might for a little while too but he would understand. Then maybe someday, if I wanted, I wouldn't have to be an unmarried woman anymore.
Steve who stopped being small, and dragged him back into the fight. Steve who was always taking down HYDRA facilities, just never the one that had me! Steve who let James die! I didn't even remember that promise, but I took care of Steve anyways, even if he was the wrong Steve, even if he was the man who got the man I loved killed!
Please, please don't let me wake up. I don't care if this is an hallucination, or if it's really his ghost. I don't give a damn if it means I'm dying. If I am, just let me keep dying, because I get to see him again, at least once more and it's such a perfect illusion. I can even feel the callouses on his fingers as he runs them through my hair and catches my tears.
FRIDAY, MAY 4TH 2012
1103 HOURS
BELVEDERE CASTLE, CENTRAL PARK
79TH ST
DUNCAN AKA ALEX
I'm actually seeing this aren't I? She made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp as he stuck that needle in her neck but that's not what caught my attention, it was the surreal sight of his metal thumb tracing over the puncture in a caress, the first trace wiping the droplet of blood away, but the second one revealing the man under all that conditioning. The Winter Soldier's programing was collapsing after a matter of minutes in her presence?!
My head can't wrap itself around how that's even possible despite evidence to the contrary. It's a pile of evidence that just keeps growing.
After he discards the injection pen, he moves around the table to the head of her. He collected an abandoned red backpack on the way, and rolled it into a pillow! He was gentle as he lifted her head, and exceedingly mindful of tangling her hair in his prosthetic! He actually smoothed her hair after he fanned it out on the other side of the 'pillow'!
She really did bring out the man! He's sitting there, half leaning half kneeling next to her hip now, the position almost protective. He's brushing the wet strands that clung to her damp skin into place with the rest of her hair, using the tips of his metal fingers to do it. The same fingertips try to catch her tears, their effort successful until the next ones follow the tracks of that saltwater stream. Does she know who's touching her?
Does he know who he's touching? He's frowning softly, his expression hollow and almost completely lacking the motion of blinking. That's a sign of intense thought and concentration. It's not the clue that really convinces me he might. It's the way his eyes are fixed on her right wrist peeking out from his left hand. Her numbers used to be tattooed to there, before they were carved away with a soviet issue knife on a frozen tundra.
I made her promises, but they'll take miracles to keep now, and it looks like her miracles are all but out. Her last one one is on that table with her tracing her skin with emotions he can't puzzle out. I wanted to be the one who saved her. I wanted to save myself too, but I knew that was a life on the clock. All clocks run out. Every decision you make changes the timestamp, so let's see what this one leaves me with. "Солдат."