Chapter 21: Getting Answers, Getting Closure

AN: this is bloody and brutal, Warning: Reader's Discretion is advised. I'm not kidding, if you're under 17 I'm not going to be responsible for your nightmares, so if you want to skip, feel free, but if not; hey I'm not your mom, you do you. But don't strike me, you've had ample warning.

So without further ado, let's watch my beloved OC have a mental and emotional break.

Onto the Fic

Steven almost couldn't believe he was standing just yards away from the man that had tormented and abused him for literal years. Now as he walked up the stairwell towards Misha's office, a trail of bodies in his wake, he felt that bloodlust, that red haze that had lingered over everything in his memories from the time he escaped to the moment he realized just how far he had fallen, returning. It had started to creep into his vision when he saw Nikola in the flesh again, and he had just barely refrained from ripping the man to shreds the moment he had him at his mercy. It was by sheer force of will that he kept it at bay, but now it was descending deeper over his vision, and Steven could feel the literal threads of his mind straining at the seams the further he walked into the building.

The hired goons had put up an admirable defense, presenting a defensive wall in front of Misha's office, riot shields and body armor and all, but Steven had dealt with more threats and defensive barriers than anyone living in this building, and even when he was young, there was a reason the army literally pointed him at large constructed defenses and set him loose. He was an unstoppable force of nature once he got moving, and he was a literal power juggernaut honed into a weapon with razor precision. Back in the day simply bowling them over would have been difficult but doable but now, it was child's play to cut a swath in their defenses targeting their weakest link and simply watching the line crumble. Those that were left either chose to fight and died quick and clean deaths, or ran and Steven let them be spared; having no desire to kill someone who made a smart choice to live rather than die. In the end only the true believers, HYDRA hired guns, and ex-KGB Red Room grunts had died, leaving Steven with a direct path to Misha's office.

As he approached, that red haze had descended fully and he began to smile. It was a cruel and twisted thing, born from his desperate belief that he would finally be rid of a source of his pain and anguish. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Steven knew that it was unhinged and more a predator's grin than anything remotely close to a smile. That remote and detached part of his mind knew his was beginning to dissociate, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Once the haze had descended his rage would be satisfied with nothing less than Misha's blood in payment for his crimes. He knew it wasn't healthy and wrong, but that part was a cold and distant light in the darkness that had descended on his mind, and in the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Misha," he called his voice deceptively soft and light, "Come out; come out, Misha. It's time to stop hiding. I've found you." Steven's voice was light and lilting as if he was calling out in a game. "You've been a naughty boy, Misha," Steven chided, and tut as he reached the door, "hiding under my nose like that, oh you've been very naughty. But, I've found you… it's time to come out, Mikael." The office doors blew inward with a blast and slammed into the walls. They hung there for a moment, pinned before they sagged on broken hinges, as Steven stepped into the room. "It's time to face the music," Steven said, as a falsely calm and bland smile pulled on his lips, "my old friend."

Misha is cornered; sitting behind his desk, as Steven casually strode into the room. Steven felt a pulse, a quick flash of electricity and instinctively clamped down on it, severing the connection before it could signal. Misha smirked smugly for a moment before it quickly turned into panic.

"Trying to call for help," Steven chided, wagging his finger slowly back and forth, tutting in disappointment, "for shame, Mikael. You know that's not allowed." A silent alarm was useful, but Steven didn't want to be disturbed. That red haze was deepening and Steven didn't know what he would do if they interrupted his interrogation.

Misha tried to bolt from his chair, but Steven didn't even let him get more than a few inches before he threw him back into his chair with his powers, pinning him down. With a twist of his hand and wrist, Steven wound the phone cord around his tormentor tying down his wrists, legs and chest to the chair. Steven pondered the trussed up man, before he tilted his head and the cord wrapped around the other man's throat and then around his ankles. Steven smiled at the man, before finally approached. Misha opened his mouth and before he could even speak Steven stuffed a gag in it. An amused smirk pulled on Steven's lips, as he slipped around the man kicking the chair Misha was in to the side. Ignoring him completely as Steven interfaced with Misha's computer. A quick run through the man's files revealed all sorts of sordid affairs, and Steven had no qualms as he copied all the files and data pertaining to the man's illegal activities (skimming, and Ponzi schemes, fake investment firms and all sorts of high stakes con artist schemes,) directly to his Solid state drive. Another quirk to Steven's lips and on an impulse he transferred every dime of Misha's ill-gotten gains to charities and non-profit organizations to help those ravaged by war, mostly because this man had profited from HYDRA sewing from the conflict they had caused; but also because Steven was a petty man with an ironic sense of humor, and enjoyed the idea of the funds made from Misha and HYDRA's warmongering were being used to help the very ones they had used and abused. Chief on the list of charities to gain a sudden boost was the one Steve has set up in Bucky's name, because Steven more than anyone knew that those who returned from war were rarely undamaged mentally or physically scarred.

It was only after he was done did he turn his attention to Misha. The man was wriggling and jerking in his chair, trying to get the bonds to loosen to no avail. Finally Steven had he enough watching him wriggle like a worm on a hook, and wrapped the man tightly in his mental grip, holing in fast to the chair.

"You are going to tell me everything you know about where they are keeping my Ada, Misha," Steven demanded, looking the man in the eyes and watching his terror unfold. The red haze deepened and Steven felt a distant curl of satisfaction. "I have no qualms about killing you; I already killed your son, and grandson. You made me watch, Misha," Steven seethed, before a twisted smile pulled on his face, "Now I am going to make you watch."

Watching the footage of Nikola slowly spooling out as he tortured him before he died, and even the fake footage of Sonia and Alexander's deaths, Steven expected to feel some malicious sense of satisfaction. Instead he felt nothing. There was no twisted sense of enjoyment as Misha's countenance crumbled into horror and grief, railing against Steven's hold forcing him to watch. His strangle-hold on his temper he had when he dealt with Nikola was gone, and all that was left was this blank hole in his chest where those feeling once sat. He wasn't angry, he wasn't satisfied, and he didn't even feel pity when Misha began to cry.

He was numb.

Beneath that numb feeling, detached and far away, Steven raged. And somehow he managed to bring that to the surface, just enough to seethe at the Controller, and remind himself that this man had destroyed a part of his life.

"It is no less than you deserve, you miserable coward," Steven spat, as Misha whimpered and plead mercy for his son and family. Steven clawed away the detached feeling and his burning rage returned. "You made me watch," Steven seethed through grit teeth, "you made my Ada watch," tears he didn't even know were in his eyes, spilled down over his cheeks, "and you made the Widows watch. You destroyed everything we ever loved about each other." Steven reigned in his seething rage and that cold detached feeling returned, even as the red haze descended. "Now I will only ask this once, and if I get the wrong answer, I will put a bullet in one of your joints; starting with the knees, then your elbows, and then the ball and socket joints." A placid smile pulled across Steven's lips, "do we have an accord," he asked calmly and very rationally, even with the distant burning rage seeming as if it was coming from a million miles away. Misha's nod, tears in his eyes even as he hardened his jaw, brought that distant rage further forward, but still felt very much as if it was happening to someone else. Even so, Steven smiled beatifically and there was just something about it that made even Steven himself feel distantly unnerved. "Good," he said, and suddenly his face was as if it was carved from stone, "now, where is the Asset; where are they keeping him?"

Steven saw it in his eyes, in the way he hardened his jaw even as he shrank back in terror. Steven saw even before he did it. Misha did the same as the others before him.

He lied.

Steven fired.

"Do we have a lock on his position," Steve asked marching down into the transport garage.

"We do, sir," one of the STRIKE team agents replied, an Agent Rumlow Steve thought his name was, and handed Steve a tactical outfitted tablet. "He was spotted on a security camera in the business district less than half an hour ago," Rumlow tapped on the screen and enlarged the image. "Less than ten minutes later this security footage pinged our search parameters and facial recognition software; not that there was much face to recognize considering his mask." The man in the vid was definitely the Knight, and he was mowing his way through the security detail like a scythe.

"Guess he wasn't too concerned about getting caught," Steve said as they head for one of the tactical vans.

"Yeah," Rumlow laughed wryly, "I doubt he thought we would catch him on a 7-11 security camera of all things."

"No," Steve ruminated, "Stevan doesn't do anything on accident. He wanted us to know where he was going. Do we know where he is now?" he asked.

"Just got a new hit, Cap," an analyst answered over his earpiece, "An internal security camera from the office of a Mikael Eukheri. Wait…" the analyst paused, "I just got a secondary hit off Eukheri. Oh boy! Jackpot! This guy is wanted by INTERPOL, the FBI, the FSB, the CIA, whoa… how did we miss this guy?"

"Who is he?" Steve asked, and seconds later the analyst shunted over a file and picture of the man in question, much younger and thinner.

"Colonel Mikael 'Misha' Eukheriovich," the analyst answered as Steve stepped into the van. "He was a Soviet officer in the Red Army and a high ranking member of the KGB. His codename was 'The Controller'; might have something to do with his lovely personality. After the fall of the Soviet Union all KGB agents were either charged with war crimes or turned state's evidence against the others. It looks like a whistle blower pointed a very heavy finger against him and His son, no picture, but considering the same name I can reason a guess as to who he was. He was charged with torture, unlawful imprisonment of a prisoner of war, experimentation on a prisoner of war, wow… this guy is a piece of work!"

"Point," Steve demanded as the driver started the engine.

"Oh, right, sorry," the analyst said, "the point being, this guy was charged with a lot of things mostly the breaking of the Geneva Convention, and crimes against humanity, and he disappeared along with his son right before the Wall and the USSR fell. Hell, even Israeli intelligence and their Nazi hunters want him. The CIA has had him as one of the top ten members of their most wanted for decades. If the Knight is a CIA agent, this might be a sanctioned op." there was a loud gulp, then the analyst said, "Cap, this guy was rumored to be a high ranking officer and handler in the Red Room." Steve looked down sharply and skimmed through the data before finding the possible smoking gun: A picture of the man in question beside Alexander Lukin.

"Yeah," Steve said absently, "he might have been."

"I've got live footage… now," the analyst said and half a second later the report of a gunshot echoed through the tablet's speakers.

'That was a lie, Misha,' the Knight said, 'I won't ask you again.' The men in the van sat frozen for a moment before Steve looked up.

"I'm lead on this mission," Steve said.

"What, Cap," Rumlow protested.

"I know Stevan, Rumlow," Steve said. "He's abrasive and calculating but he's a good man. If you go in there guns drawn and demand his surrender, he'll fight you and we'll have a dead STRIKE team."

Rumlow sat back and stared a Steve for a minute.

"You think he's that good," he asked. Steve shook his head.

"I know he's that good," Steve said. "You didn't see the aftermath on the Helicarriers Bridge. I saw the footage. He could rip through all of you like a twister through a trailer park. I'd rather not let that happen. He was a terror on our side; I don't want to find out what he's like as an enemy."

"Fair enough," Rumlow said. "You take point, Cap, but if he makes a move on us I will take that shot." Steve nodded and turned his attention to the now muted footage. "What happened to the sound?"

"Sorry about that," the analyst apologized. "It looks like it's been muted on the other end."

"Can you get it back," Steve asked. There was some furious tapping on the other end before a defeated puff sounded.

"No."

Steve had only had the misfortune of witnessing an interrogation like this once, during the war. There were very few times they had ever captured a HYDRA soldier or officer alive, and they hadn't remained that way for long. But there had been one time they captured an SS officer for Allied Command, and they were short enough on time they were asked to interrogate the man. Bucky had been the interrogator and Steven had sat with him, probing the man's mind, pulling it apart like taffy. It was at once an awesome sight, and terrifying. Watching helplessly as The Knight interrogated Misha, held that same sort of feeling.

Without the sound it seemed even more visceral and real, as those old sounds from that last interrogation overlaid onto this one. Sound or no, it seems as though this was no mindless torture, and the Knight was after something. There was a method to all the man's infliction of pain, and he had no compunction of dolling it out or leaning on a pressure point to get it out of him.

Several minutes later Steve saw the moment Misha cracked, and quickly zoomed into the two men to see what had happened. The smile on The Knight's face is anything but nice. It is a cold and pain filled smile, tinged with rage and the ghosting of fear. Misha on the other hand was crying, sobbing almost, from the pain, or the emotional onslaught, Steve couldn't tell, as he talked, but there was no such emotion on the Knight's face. In fact it seemed rather blank, disinterested and unsatisfied, as if he took no real enjoyment out of doling out this torture.

"Rumlow," Steve ordered, "you take squad one and cover the main entrance. Squad 2 the upper level, and windows, squad three, you're with me. You follow me in. I want safeties on, until I give the order. No one shoots unless it's on my say-so." Steve opened his mouth to further give out orders when the sound on the tablet suddenly springs back to life.

"You with never find him, Stevan," Misha's gravely and pain choked voice crackled through the speakers, and the group startled suddenly before turning back to the screen. Misha's voice is wracked with pain as he choked out a vindictive laugh. Stevan turned and Steve could see the emotions rage violently across the other's face; first fear, then sorrow and insecurity, then pain and horror, before they settled on a burning white hot rage. It seemed as though Misha took some sick enjoyment out of the assassin's agony, for he laughed out his next words, "they ripped him apart this time." there was a bloody and vindictive grin on his face as he spoke. "They left nothing of your Papochka behind in that body. All that is left is our perfect Soldier, Stevan; and not even you with all your gifts," he spat, "can heal that."

There was a moment of quiet stillness as Steve could see the agony on Stevan's face, tears welling up in wide horrified eyes, along with an endless well of grief and disbelief. Slowly though, Steve saw that open face harden and suddenly the Knight's face became overcome with blind, white hot rage. There was a wrath there that Steve had seldom seen before, and he had no desire to see again. With lightning quick reflexes, so fast even Steve barely saw it, the gun was drawn up and fired twice in Misha's chest, one in each lung. Steve could see the rage and agony warring over the other man's face, and he grit his teeth as he watched Stevan cry helplessly, sobbing, almost screaming, as he continued to pull the trigger, even after the gun was obviously empty. A strangled and enraged scream rent itself from Steven's throat as he threw aside the gun, and pulled out a long combat knife.

"How much longer," Steve shouted to the driver.

"ETA Five minutes, Captain," they answered.

Steve turned his gaze back to the screen in a horrified trance, just like everyone else, only to watch helplessly as the masked assassin plunged his knife into Misha's chest to the hilt; straight through the heart.

"Make it faster," Steve shouted back, not daring to take his eyes away.

Stevan staggered back and away from the body in a daze, tears still running down his face, his chest heaving, with sobs. In a moment it was like watching the man's mind pull itself apart by the seams. Steve saw the rage and hate overcome the man's face, as he brought his fists up to his temples then only to grab and pull at his hair. With an inhuman shriek, that caused the STRIKE team to jolt in their seats, Stevan wrenched his hands away from his hair and lunged at Misha's body. Stevan grabbed the dead man's arm in one hand and brought his forearm down hard on the elbow joint, already weakened, snapping it like a twig with the blow. With inhuman strength, he wrenched and twisted the limb, ripping it right off.

The next few minutes as spent in silent horror, as Steve and the STRIKE team watch as Stevan, a man Steve knew had enhanced strength and fought beside in the Battle of New York, ripped the body of Mikael Eukheriovich limb from limb. The large knife was then wrenched out of the man's chest before Stevan plunged it back in with an enraged scream. The knife was then brought down hard, and Steve could hear the snapping of bones as Stevan violently carved the dead man's chest open. Bloody fingers dug into the carved lines, and wrenched the ribs apart to expose the organs inside in a bloody and visceral display.

The moment the last rib snapped open, Stevan staggered back; his breathing erratic and heaving. There were fat heavy tears running down his face as it slowly lost its rage and instead became stunned and blank.

Two seconds later, the video feed turned blank, and cut out.

TBC…

End note: well…. That was Hell. Sorry this took so long, I just had no muse for this chapter. In fact, these last several chapters have been a major pain to write. Not because I had no idea, but because these were the most fleshed out scenes in the outline.

I honestly hope I conveyed Steven's spiraling mental state here. I've never really had a mental breakdown, and this … this is what those guys on Criminal Minds would call a Break. He's dissociating and losing touch with his sense of reality, and he's also been forced, (and I do mean forced, for all that Steven works for the CIA, they hold the keys to his freedom, and he knows it) to go after the very people that originally caused his first mental break. Major trigger moments, and I'd say he held up pretty well; Up until the end. I think it's justified a little that he'd have a full mental breakdown once he realized it was over on some level.

So what do you all think? Pass, Fail, somewhere in between?

Please comment, they really do help. They make my day and give me a good swift kick in the rear to get back to this.

Next up Phantasms of Past Songs