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marysuevirusTitle: The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers!
Chapter Eighteen: Wreckage
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
Even though the fire crews had said they'd put out all of the fires, both on the ground and on the helicarrier, the stench of charred wood and grass and metal still hung heavy and thick in the air. The devastation to the area was hard to judge in the darkness, even with the portable lights set up around the wreckage, but it looked like the carrier had taken out a good chunk of Central Park when it had crashed. It looked like a fucking war zone.
Despite the fact that she was tired and bleeding from multiple lacerations, there was no other place that Alex wanted to be. Those were her colleagues and friends inside that wreck. She was going to help rescue them. She let her gaze rake over the scene, watching emergency workers scurry back and forth. There were ambulances waiting, lights still flashing though their sirens were silent. Every entrance and exit into the park was blocked by New York's men in blue, so there were strobing red and blue lights off in the distance all around them. The chopper they'd arrived in was behind them and a small team of agents was scouring the site for any clues they could find. That seemed kind of redundant, but she wasn't the one running the show.
Her gaze slipped sideways to glance up at Fury. It was hard to tell by the impassive look on his face, but she thought he might be upset. He was as still as a statue, waiting patiently for Stark to bring him the information he needed. Fucking Iron Man was taking his own sweet fucking time. There were people in there who needed their help and they were stuck waiting outside until the resident genius billionaire playboy philanthropist gave them an all clear to go into the carrier. It felt like the man was taking too damn long.
Since there was nothing else to do, Alex compulsively checked every pocket on her uniform for the supplies she'd stashed there. Side pockets on the thighs held extra clips, two in each one. A knife was nestled in a leather sheath and hung from her belt. Her Glocks were holstered, also on her belt, and each one held a fresh magazine. One pocket held throwing stars while another was loaded with zip ties. On the off chance she took a HYDRA agent alive.
She'd changed before leaving the base, deciding that her torn and tattered work out clothes wouldn't look professional enough at a crash site. She'd slipped into the standard issue onesie. It was tight enough to hold the hastily applied gauze pads in place until she could sit down and spend time with the med unit. Any injuries she'd suffered were minor next to the job that loomed before them. Her long black hair, a frightening mess after running through the gauntlet that had been the base, had been combed back into a hasty pony tail to hang limp and dirty down her back. Her hands, scraped, scratched, and bleeding, were hidden under a pair of fingerless gloves.
Her gaze swept the clearing, seeking out familiar faces. There weren't many she recognized. She knew that Natasha had stayed at base with Maria Hill. The two of them would oversee rounding up any living HYDRA agents and locking them away. They would also make sure that the wounded who needed medical attention would get it. Fury had left Banner there, too, telling him that he didn't want to have to worry about the man's giant green ass showing when they were in the public eye. Agent Sitwell was dealing with the hastily set up tent filled with tech. But she didn't see any of the other Avengers here. She thought that Cap and Thor would be here to aid in the search and rescue, as well as the clean up. And she totally wasn't looking for Clint.
Frowning at the lack of familiar faces, she let her eyes drift toward Miri. Her friend was standing on the other side of Fury, her face set in a perfectly blank mask that suggested there was something very intense going on in her head. She hadn't really been herself since they'd been in the comm room and had heard the distress call from the helicarrier. There was only one reason Alex could think of that explained that and she wasn't sure she was ready to believe it just yet. Still, it would explain a lot of stuff. For now, she would file away what she knew and try to contain her growing testiness.
She was about to start pestering Fury for permission to enter the helicarrier and conduct her own search when Stark came striding out of a hole in the exterior bulkheads. The face plate of his suit raised as he neared the three of them. "Well, Mr. Stark? Have you got anything for me?"
"There's significant structural damage in the front half of the ship. It went down nose first, so this isn't surprising. The back half of the ship is in pretty good shape. I believe it should hold long enough to run a search and rescue through it. The front half..." The look on his face wasn't encouraging. "I wouldn't recommend sending anyone that way. There's no telling when the supports are going to give in and come down."
"I'll take the front half, sir." Miri's announcement didn't really surprise Alex. But it caught Fury's attention well enough. She watched as the man turned to give her friend a stare out of his one eye. To her credit, Miri didn't flinch or shift under the man's scrutiny.
"You heard the resident engineering genius, Agent Grant. He doesn't think that the front is structurally sound. Why would you want to risk your life going in there? Why should I risk a medical team because you're feeling invincible?"
"Because Agent Coulson is in there, sir. We owe it to him to get him out." Alex was pretty sure that there was more to the sentence, but Miri refused to say it. Even if he's dead. The two of them stared at one another, a silent battle of wills that lasted nearly a full two minutes. Finally, Fury shook his head and turned his attention back to Stark.
"Can you give me a comprehensive map of where all the damage is? Where its safe for my agents to walk and where it isn't? Agent Grant is going to go in and attempt to find Agent Coulson and anyone else left alive." Fury glanced over at Alex. "Agent Quinn, you'll take the other half of the carrier. You'll each have a medical team with you. Bring out survivors. If any HYDRA agents are still alive, I want them kept that way for questioning. Mr. Stark, once you have my maps ready, I want you with Agent Grant in case something goes bad."
Tony blinked at Fury for a few second, eyes wide with what Alex thought was shock. "Of course. Because it makes perfect sense to send more people into that giant coffin to die."
"Maps, Mr. Stark. You have five minutes. I believe Agent Sitwell has everything you'll need to print off those maps for me. I want you to make sure you put in every single area of questionable safety." Fury told the other man. When Tony didn't move right away, Fury lifted his arm and tapped one finger against a wrist to indicate that the clock was ticking. Stark said nothing, but he did head over to the tech tent where Sitwell was waiting. "Need I remind you two that there is no room for error with this mission?"
"No, sir," Alex shook her head. Miri didn't say anything until Fury looked at her. Then she managed a tight shake of her head. Fury took a step or two back until he could keep them both in his line of sight and leveled 'the Look' on them.
"I'm only going to say this once. So you'd better listen and listen good. I expect you to maintain a certain modicum of professionalism in there. And I expect you to have it done yesterday," he told them, voice filled with authority. When neither of them said anything, he gave them 'the Look' again. "Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir," Alex and Miri chimed together.
"Good." Fury shifted his attention away. Alex glanced over to see that Tony was on his way toward them, two sheets of paper in his hands. When he stopped before them, he divided the maps and handed one to Alex while the other went to Miri. Alex looked down at the map and found it to be a multi-layered blueprint of the helicarrier. Quite a few sections were inked in red.
"The red areas are the dangerous ones." Tony reached out and traced the lines with his fingers. "This is the worst area here. I made sure that it was easy to see where they were and easier still to follow. If something shifts or creaks ominously, I suggest you run fast in the other direction."
"Understood," Alex told him.
"The med teams are standing by." Fury tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Radio communication at all times, ladies."
That was their green light. Alex folded up the map and took a breath. It was going to be a daunting task. There was so much in there to go through. So many people to attempt to find. Securing the map in a pocket, she drew one of her guns and held it loosely at her side. She and Miri were leading these rescue missions, weapons drawn in case there were HYDRA agents still alive and willing to kill a few more members of S.H.I.E.L.D.
She hoped she found a few.
She didn't look at Miri until they were standing before the gaping wound in the helicarrier's side. Stark had put his face plate down and was waiting on them to get a move on. Alex turned to give Miri a smile. Miri looked... afraid. "Keep your ass safe in there, Miri."
Miri shook her head. "I've got Stark. What have you got?"
"A bad attitude," Alex grinned. She motioned to one of the med teams and stepped toward the hole. She'd made it into the darkened interior before Miri's voice brought her to a halt.
"Alex." She turned to look at her friend. "I'm invoking rule number one. Right here. Right now. Break it and you will not like what I do to you."
Alex smiled at that, a real expression that she made sure the other woman saw. "Right back at you, Miri. Make it out of there alive or I will totally set you up with all four of my brothers." If Miri had any comment to that, she kept it to herself. But saying it went a long way toward making Alex feel so much better.
There were no lights left shining, forcing Alex to bring a Maglite out of one of her many pockets. Clicking it on brought to life a powerful LED light that cut the shadows in two. More beams of light came on behind her, one for each member of the team of agents she was leading. She turned to look at them, conscious of a moving flow of light farther up the hall in the other direction. Miri's team heading deeper into the most damaged parts of the ship. She didn't let herself think of what could happen, instead focused on her team. "Everyone is to keep their eyes open. Watch for any sign of danger. And I don't just mean possible collapsing structures. There are still HYDRA agents on this thing. The goal is to take as many alive as possible." She reached up with one hand, the flashlight held in it, and tapped the comm unit plugged into her ear with one finger. "You are to always maintain radio contact with me. Understood?"
"Daddy is listening in." Fury's voice filled her ear, the menace plain to hear in it.
"Yes, ma'am," one of the younger agents said. All of them nodded and drew their weapons. She gave them a grim look, then turned and took point. The med unit was sandwiched between her and the rest of the team. The lead had a scanner that worked on body heat. If they passed anyone who was still alive, the scanner would let them know.
The group moved as silently as possible, chatter being kept to a minimum while they were careful where they put their feet. Alex swept rooms that were accessible. There were some that were empty, with furniture and papers and things thrown around the room crazily. There were some rooms that had rubble cluttering them, no sign of ever having housed anything or anyone. There were some that bore dark stains on the floor. In some of the rooms, Alex could see that the rubble had been shifted aside, as if someone had tried to dig someone else out. "Keep an eye out, everyone. Someone's been attempting rescues in here."
"Roger that, Alex," Miri's voice was soft and tense. "We've seen some evidence of that here, too. But no survivors."
"No survivors here, either. I'm starting to think that there won't be any." Her friend had no reply for that. Alex let it go. She had a feeling she knew where Miri's mind was at right at that moment and it certainly wasn't on the lack of survivors. Alex pushed forward, putting all of her focus on the search and rescue.
Silence clung to them, mocking their attempts with the lack of sounds. There were pockets of smoke here and there to contend with, leaving the taste of grease and ash in the back of her throat. They occasionally encountered places where the debris had spilled out of open doors to block most of the hallway floor. In those instances, the team was forced to pick its way over the mounds to more stable floor. Sometimes, Alex had her underlings move the larger pieces of rubble out of the way.
It was amazing how she could focus her thoughts in two different directions. Outwardly, she gave the appearance of being intent on their surroundings. And she was. She'd been doing her job for so long that she'd found a way to portion out her brain so that she could work on several problems at once. And should something change suddenly, she'd be on top of it. She wouldn't need reminding or prodding. She'd just do and think about her reactions later. But there was a part of her mind that wouldn't let go of the odd behavior she'd seen out of Miri lately.
Alex had always thought that there was something going on with Miri, but she'd always believed there was nothing to the something that her brain had produced. The very notion that Miri and Coulson, the most mild-mannered and absolutely unexciting man at S.H.I.E.L.D., might be doing sexual things to one another had always seemed like some kind of joke. The kind of wild stories that desperate men who'd had a few too many drinks had told their friends to rationalize her turning them down. Some bullshit story that no one would ever believe. And Alex didn't believe it. Or rather, she hadn't.
Seeing Miri's reaction to hearing that Coulson was piloting the helicarrier as it went down was making her reassess her thoughts in that arena. She'd never seen Miri react to anything the way she had when she'd heard that message. She supposed it was possible that Miri might be engaging in bedroom sports with their tight-laced, tight-lipped boss. But she didn't think it was probable. Coulson just didn't seem to be Miri's type. Hell, if anyone around S.H.I.E.L.D. was Miri's type, it was Clint. Alex just couldn't picture Miri and Coulson together. Naked. Doing the nasty. It just... No. It wasn't possible. There was no way Miri would go there. No way in hell.
"Agent Quinn," the lead medic said quietly, drawing her full attention his way. He motioned to one room with the scanner, then held up one finger to indicate that there was a living body in the room to their left. She nodded in understanding, then shot a look toward her underlings. A few basic hand commands had one acting as her back up, while the others would keep an eye out. Then she waved the med unit back and waited until they were out of the line of fire before heading into the room.
Well, it had once been a room. But now it was little more than a trash heap. Alex's gaze flicked to the floor, where she could see a thick pool of viscous fluid leaking out from under some overturned furniture. She slowed her steps, made sure that her feet were silent as death as she crept closer to what she was sure had once been a bookshelf or armoire. There was a hand reaching out from under the large box, fingers coated in blood. She glanced over her shoulder at her backup, then reached down and took hold of the shelf.
It was far too heavy for one hand. She was going to have to holster her weapon. She knew it was a bad idea, but she had no choice. Another look at her backup assured her that one of the younger agents had inched forward into the room. His weapon was trained on the spot where the hand reached out from under the case. The muscles in her arms strained and she felt some of the freshly closed wounds rip open as she lifted the case away from the trapped victim.
It was a woman, dressed in a standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. "Shit. That's Ferguson. We went through training together," a member of her backup said.
She glanced up to see that he looked a little pale and shaky. "Go wait out in the hall," Alex commanded softly, voice filled with steel. "Doc, you and your team can get in here and help this one out. She's one of ours."
"Situation, Quinn," Fury's voice instructed in her ear. She moved aside as the med unit filed in and began assessing the woman's injuries. She thought she heard some strain in the director's words.
"Agent Ferguson, sir. She was buried under an armoire or bookcase." Alex watched the med unit working over the woman. Their voices were hushed, though she could still hear them. They didn't sound very optimistic about her chances. "It doesn't look good, sir. The medic thinks she's got some heavy duty internal bleeding."
The lead medic looked up at her. "Agent Quinn, we need to move her and fast. She might have a chance, but it depends on whether or not we can get her into surgery soon."
"Stay where you are, Quinn. I've got people coming in to bring her out."
"Yes, sir."
Alex stood and waited while the med team worked on the downed agent. Soon enough, she could hear the faint rattle of a gurney as it was rolled up the hallway. A pair of EMTs joined the small crowd in the room. They were careful as they transferred the woman from the floor to the wheeled cot. As soon as they had her out the door and on her way to a waiting ambulance, Alex motioned her team forward and once more led the way up the hall.
The following rooms were more of the same. Each one was demolished, all manner of rubble and debris covering the floor. In some, they saw evidence of people having been there when the attacks had taken place. Spots of blood on the floor or body parts protruding from the piles of trash. More often than not, the people they found were long past their help. Not that they didn't find a few living people who needed their help. Just not as many as they'd hoped.
On one or two occasions, they actually found living HYDRA agents. Alex took great joy in ensuring none of them were capable of doing anything but glaring mulishly at her. If the zip ties holding their hands were a little tight, it was no skin off her teeth. The enemy agents that they found were gathered up by some of the flunkies hovering around outside and taken to a holding cell of some sort. Let Fury deal with them. He was better suited to it. If she had her way, she'd just kill them all.
They were somewhere in the middle of the ship when the lead medic put his hand on her arm. She turned to look at him. He was staring at a room on their right. She could see that his scanner indicated someone was alive in there. She nodded at him, sent a look to her backup, then made to enter the room. A sign by the door caught her eye and she frowned. This was the lab. Why would someone have been in the lab during the attack?
She was halfway across the room when a pile of papers and books shifted against the far wall. Alex brought her gun up and pointed it at the moving trash. A blonde head broke through the debris and she found herself staring into slightly glassy blue eyes.
"Holy shit!" she whispered.
~*~*~*~*~
Steve struggled to stand, his head spinning dizzily. He was having a hard time focusing but he could see a pale blob not far from him that he took to be a face. And he thought that he saw a black blob there, too. Gun, he thought in an absent manner. He tried to lift his shield, but it was pinned and his arm was useless. "Hang on, Rogers. We're here to get you out," a woman's voice told him. "Sir, I've located Captain Rogers. I need a team to evacuate him immediately. He looks disoriented."
No one answered the woman. But that didn't stop her from going on. "We're in the lab, sir. Yes, sir. I will not leave his side. I'll be waiting for the EMTs here, sir."
His mind latched on to one thing. The lab. Why was he in the lab? He'd come for something, hadn't he? His mind was fuzzy with pain, suggesting he'd either hit his head or something had fallen on it. So he slowed his breathing, forced himself to focus. The lab. He'd been coming to the lab to save someone. To save...
"Elsa!" he got out, then turned back to the pile of trash around his legs.
"Dr. Jones?" the woman asked. In a few moments, she was at his side. Her hands made him look at her, even though he knew he should be digging into the mound. Steve blinked at her, trying to focus on her face. It was still blurry. "Captain Rogers, did you say that Dr. Jones is in here?"
"Yes," he managed. The woman turned away from him and began barking orders. "Doc, bring your team in here and assess Captain Rogers. Kinsey! You're with me. Dr. Jones is buried in this pile somewhere. We're going to find her. But be careful. We can't know what her condition is and we don't want to injure her any further than she already might be."
Another blob joined the woman. Though his face wasn't as blurry as just a moment ago, Steve was still having a hard time making out his features. He watched as they began shifting the debris off the top of the pile, carefully moving pieces. He should help. He was just leaning down to do that when a hand caught him by the shoulder and pushed him upright. "You come with me, Captain Rogers. Let Agents Quinn and Kinsey search for Dr. Jones. I need to examine you. Agent Quinn, be sure that Director Fury sends a second gurney in."
"Sir, did you catch all of that?" the woman's voice was asking. Steve watched as she and the other agent bent to their task. The man who had his hand on Steve's arm was leading him toward the other side of the room. "Yes, sir. I'm already working on it now."
"Captain Rogers, do you remember what happened?" the man asked him.
"HYDRA attacked us. I was..." Steve paused and frowned. What had he been doing? He was sure he'd been doing something. Before he'd come here to save Elsa, he'd been doing something else. But he couldn't recall what. A bright light flashed in his eyes, momentarily blinding him. He tried pulling back, but the disorientation and the dizziness made it nearly impossible. "I'm sure I was doing something. I just don't remember at the moment."
"I think you have a mild concussion, Captain Rogers. You're going to go to medical to get checked out," the man told him. The light went away and the man turned to consult with someone at his side. Steve sat for a second, watching them fall into conversation, before looking over at the wall where the pile of papers and other things had fallen down over himself and Elsa. About four or five people were busy moving debris off the pile. He had to help Elsa.
Staggering to his feet, he shuffled toward the group, intent on digging Elsa out of the rubble. A hand grabbed at his arm, fingers tight as it tried to pull him back. "Captain Rogers, please! You have to sit and rest. You could be seriously injured."
Steve shrugged the man off and kept going. He was only dimly aware of a soft thud and people talking rapidly in strident voices. Not that he cared. His focus was on Elsa and only Elsa. He had to get her out of that pile and get the doctors to treat her. She'd already been in bad shape when he'd arrived in her lab. Any further delay could be deadly.
The floor shifted faintly under his feet, bringing forth a series of fuzzy memories. After encountering the woman from Elsa's lab, Steve had made his way as quickly as possible to the lab. His shield had served him well, taking down any enemy who happened to get in his way as quickly and efficiently as a hot knife slicing through butter. It had been a race against the clock because he'd been able to feel the deck shifting under his feet, the ship listing further and further to one side.
By the time he'd reached the lab's door, he'd known that they were going to hit ground. He'd wanted to be with Elsa when that happened, in the hopes that he could offer her an extra layer of protection. The door had given him trouble, forcing him to kick it open so that he could get inside of the large area. It had been an utter disaster.
Papers and books had been scattered around like they'd been thrown by a tornado. Expensive equipment had been tossed to the floor off tables, had fallen over from spots against the wall. The tables had all shifted to one side of the room and glass littered the floor. Right about the time he'd found Elsa's feet jutting out from under a bookshelf, she'd called his name weakly. There'd been blood staining the floor and clotted in her hair. She hadn't looked good.
The bookcase had been nothing to move. He'd damn near picked it up and thrown it in his eagerness to get to Elsa. He couldn't remember what he'd done to mess up his arm, but it had to have happened then. Because he remembered only being able to use one hand to check her over. And then the world had gone insane. The ship had lurched and juddered, throwing Steve into the wall. Elsa had gone with him and he'd had only an instant to make a decision. He'd curled himself around Elsa, then positioned the shield in front of them. A second later, everything in the lab had slammed into them and fallen on top of them to bury them alive.
"Agent Quinn!" The voice from behind was sharp and it pulled one of the people digging into the pile upright. It was a woman and she turned to look at him. A frown spread across her face immediately. Without saying anything to the other man, she crossed to where Steve stood.
"Captain Rogers, you need to sit down. You've been injured." She motioned to something behind him. Steve shook his head.
"But I can help," he protested, taking another step toward the pile of debris. It didn't seem to be getting any smaller, no matter how many pieces of rubble they shifted off of it. By the time these people had Elsa uncovered, it would be too late.
"I really must insist, Captain Rogers." The woman put her hand out, her palm landing flat against his chest. "If you don't go sit down of your own free will, I will have you restrained. It might not hold you, but I will do it just the same. This is my rescue mission. You are one of the survivors. You'll do as I say."
"Elsa needs me," he told her, hoping she'd understand.
"Elsa's my friend, Captain Rogers," she said softly. He blinked at that, trying to focus on the woman. It took a minute or two, but he finally realized that he'd seen her talking with Elsa more than once. He was sure he knew who she was, but his brains were so scrambled that he couldn't think of a name. There was understanding in her eyes. And she was pleading with him to listen to her. "I'm going to do everything I can to get her out of that mess, but I can't do that if I have to fight with you. Please. Go sit down. You need to be checked over back at medical. Your shoulder looks dislocated. If you try to do anything before its put back in place, you'll do more extensive damage. You might be harder to hurt, but it isn't impossible."
"I can't leave her in there." This last was said with a hint of helplessness and hopelessness tainting his voice. The woman stepped forward, shifted her hand until it rested on his good shoulder.
"I swear to you that I'll get her out of there alive. Just go sit down. Don't make me order you around, soldier." She stared up at him, begging him to do as she asked. His gaze drifted to the pile where he knew Elsa was, then back to the woman's earnest face. She was watching him intently, waiting to see what he would do. Steve sighed and shook his head, but he let the tension leak out of his muscles. The minute he relaxed, the woman did, too. She offered him a quick, soft smile. "Give him a hand, gentlemen. I've got to get back to work."
She didn't wait to see if they listened to her or not. She simply turned around and headed back over to the pile. He had a moment to see her attack it with a new ferocity, then he was being led toward the far wall. Someone had set up a makeshift bench or whatever and he found himself forced down onto it. Steve sat hard, barely took notice as the medic went about looking him over. He watched the woman instead, saw how she dug into the pile with a renewed sense of purpose.
A rattling sound distracted him from watching the search for a moment. He turned to find that a pair of men came in, rolling a stretcher between them. A second pair come right after them. The medic was suddenly in his face, urging him to get up and get onto one of the stretchers. Steve shot him a look that sent him away, then gave his attention back to the search.
The pile was gone and he could see the dusty red, white, and blue rings of his shield. It was wedged between the floor and some kind of shelf, creating a small pocket against the wall. The woman stood and looked at the men who had been helping her. "Lift that off. Carefully. Don't you dare drop it or you'll hit the mats with me for a week straight so I can kick your ass into shape. And I'll be sure to bring my fucking monkey wrench."
Oddly, the men paled ever so slightly, then reached for the shelf, one at each end. It was obviously a strain on them, trying to lift the shelf, but they managed. The woman used one hand to hold the shield up while the other reached behind it and took hold of something. She glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded faintly, then turned to the newcomers with the stretcher. "I need you gentlemen over here now. I don't dare move her. I don't know what kind of injuries she's sustained."
The men went, taking the stretcher with them. Steve's heart stopped and his breath stilled while he waited and watched. It felt like a lifetime passed as they worked. But soon enough, the men had Elsa laid out on the stretcher and were securing her with straps for transport. His eyes never left her form until they'd rolled her out the door. By then, her friend was standing in front of him with the shield held awkwardly in her hands. "Thank you."
"No, Cap," she said softly as she presented him with his shield. "Thank you. Now get him out of here. I want them both on the next transport to medical. And you will go without argument, Captain Rogers, or I will personally bash you over the head with your shield." While the instructions were given to the emergency personnel, she never took her gaze from his. And when the emergency personnel rolled the stretcher over to where he sat, she offered him a hand up. She was still watching him when they rolled him out of the room.
~*~*~*~*~
Miri had never known Stark to remain silent for so long. After she'd shared that look with Alex, she'd followed him into the darkness. She and her team of agents had their flashlights on, beams cutting through the shadows to seek out any survivors or enemy agents. She was amazed by the amount of devastation she saw. Rooms that had once been someone's offices or quarters were little more than walled in trash heaps. She wondered if they'd even be able to find anyone in the mess or if it was a hopeless cause.
No. She couldn't think that way. They would find survivors. They would find Phil. They had to. It was as simple as that. Because she wasn't going to leave the downed leviathan until she found him and got him out.
Instinct saw her stopping only seconds before she would have walked into Stark's back. He was on point since he had the suit and it was much more advanced than her simple handgun. Not to mention he'd let the team know that this part of the ship was so damaged that it would be better if he went first. Then there was the fact that the sensors on his suit were a thousand times better than anything the medics had.
It was hard to tell with the face plate down, but she thought that Stark was looking at her. She just felt his stare. Most people around S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to think that he wasn't serious about anything and, to hear Phil tell it, the man wasn't capable of any measure of seriousness at all. But Miri knew it for the front it was. Tony Stark was as serious as they came. If not, he'd have never set himself up with his suit and become Iron Man. He'd just spent so many years at playing the irresponsible, jet set bachelor with more money than God that he didn't really show his serious side. People expected a certain level of recklessness from him and he was always willing to give it to them.
Still, she knew the serious side of him. He was using it now, in the face of this tragedy. Because people he knew, friends, had been on the helicarrier. They'd gotten hurt, possibly killed, and the psych profile that Natasha had worked up on him suggested that the one thing that pissed him off fast and easy was seeing someone he cared about in danger. That brought out the seriousness like nothing else.
And he was staring at her with his serious face. How she knew when the face plate of the Iron Man suit was down, she didn't know. But she knew. Another thing she knew was that it was pissing her the fuck off. "What?" she snapped at him, her voice much more curt than she'd intended it to be.
She felt his eyes on her through the windows in the face plate, their weight heavy and unsettling. He was just... looking at her. As if he could see through her. Read deep into her soul. She didn't want to let him know he was getting to her but she hated their creeping along at next to dead pace. Phil needed her... Them. Phil needed them. They weren't going to find him inching along like a slug. They needed to move. "Nothing." The voice was metallic, almost robotic, through all of the machinery and processors and technology of the suit. But she couldn't miss the fact that there was something in his voice.
Before she could ask, he turned away from her. It didn't look like he was doing anything, but a moment later, he shifted his attention to the head of the med unit with them. "I've got two bodies in here. You might want to call for stretchers while I go dig them out." The last was said to Miri before he strode through the doorway into what looked like nothing more than a junk heap.
"Did you hear that, Director Fury?" she asked quietly, eyes scanning the hallway around them. At her signal, one of the junior agents took her position. That allowed her to trail Stark into the room. He might not think he needed someone at his back, but she was still leading and it was still her team. He was getting backup whether he wanted it or not.
"I've got two teams of EMTs with stretchers on their way in now, Agent Grant." Fury's voice sounded pensive. There was a pause, then he spoke again. "You be careful in there and keep me in the loop."
"Yes, sir," she nodded. Her attention was drawn to Stark, who was busy shifting heavy debris around with one hand. As if it weighed nothing more than a slip of paper did. His actions were slow. Deliberate. Efficient. Of course she knew that the man was capable of a great deal when wearing the suit. But this was really the first time she'd ever really seen him in action.
Rotors and engines whirred each time he lifted his arms and shuffled another piece of debris to the side. There was a kind of unearthly grace to his actions, to the methodical lift and toss motion that saw the pile growing smaller. She didn't have to see his face to know that determination rode his every action, directed his every move until he finally moved the last pieces off to reveal the two people that had been buried under it. God, there was so much blood.
The med unit moved in without being called. Tony backed away from the fallen agents without saying a word. Miri followed him. It hurt to be in that room, to see what HYDRA had done to her friends and comrades when there was no way to pay them back. If any had lived through the carrier's crash, they were to be taken prisoner so that they could be interrogated for information. The only thing that made Miri feel any better at all was knowing that Natasha would no doubt want to do the interrogating.
She felt him staring again so she turned to look at him. "Let's go on ahead. They'll be at this for a little while and standing around with nothing to do only makes all of this harder to cope with."
Miri stared at Stark and wondered if he was making the suggestion because he wanted this over and done with or if he knew that each step deeper into the bowels of the ship left her nerves that much rawer. Left her so jittery and nervous that she swore she was going to throw up at any moment. She swore that there was compassion in his eyes, even though she couldn't see them behind the gold face plate. She didn't dare examine that thought too deeply. So she put her mind to the task of considering his suggestion.
To be honest, she was damned tired of this place. There was too much around her. The scent of blood and death was heavy in the air, mingling with the remnants of smoke and fire. She wanted to find their people. She wasn't so selfish that she wanted to leave the living to suffer and die. To leave those that had already died lost in the wreckage without the proper respect due to them. But as much as she wanted those things, she wanted to find Phil more. She wanted to make sure he was still alive with her own two eyes. And, if that wasn't the case, she wanted one last image of him to take with her when she sought out the leaders of HYDRA and slit their throats in their sleep.
"Agreed," she gave a sharp nod of her head, then turned to look back into the room. "Stark and I are going on ahead. I'll be in contact through the comm. Follow after us when you're finished here. Eyes and ears open at all times."
One of her men nodded at her to let her know he'd heard her and understood. She trusted that they'd keep the med unit safe and eventually herd them in the right direction. If Fury had problems with the arrangement, he kept them to himself because the comm line stayed silent. For a second or two, Miri had been afraid that he'd order her to stay put. The fact that he said nothing was a testament to how badly he wanted the survivors off the helicarrier.
They fell into a rhythm after that. Tony would lead the way up the hall, using his sensors to seek out any living bodies buried in the rubble. Miri would stand guard while he used the strength of the suit to dig survivors out so that the med unit could tend to them. Any surviving HYDRA agents were zip tied together for later incarceration and eventual interrogation. When they were sure the med unit could function without them, they would move on.
There were times when Miri was sure that Stark was watching her, simply staring at her through the eye holes on the face plate as if he was trying to see or understand something. It left her feeling slightly unsettled, which said something when she was already having so many difficulties controlling herself. The closer they got to the bridge, the worse her hands shook and the worse her stomach churned.
She was fully prepared to face Phil's corpse. In their line of work, death was almost always and inevitable conclusion. One had to know that such things could happen when one carried a gun. Hadn't she just faced death herself not that long ago? Hadn't her friends been threatened? So she knew that it was possible Phil was dead. But knowing that didn't make accepting it any easier. Because she'd just finally realized that her feelings for him ran a lot deeper than were required for a fuck buddy. So while she was prepared for a corpse, she wasn't prepared for it. Not really.
It was a relief when she heard Alex's voice crackle across the line to let Fury know that they'd located Rogers. Miri let the other woman's words take her mind away from the death and destruction. Even if it only lasted for a scant millisecond, it was worth it. The conversation revealed that they were in the helicarrier's lab and Elsa was there, too. That knowledge settled the knot of tension and anger she'd been carrying deeper in her stomach. Elsa shouldn't have been in the middle of this shit.
Searing, fiery rage shot through her, saw her unconsciously curling her fingers so tightly around the gun in her hand that the grip actually bit into her flesh. She only flexed her hand when she realized that squeezing any tighter would likely result in broken fingers. Maybe she'd volunteer to "interrogate" some of the prisoners herself. That might feel damned good after seeing every last bit of damage they'd done.
More rooms. More survivors. More bodies. It was never ending and it left her with a hole where her heart was supposed to be. There would be so many funerals to attend. So many people to mourn. There was so much death. So much loss. And all of it was senseless. God, HYDRA needed to pay for this. They needed to pay for every single body that was pulled out of the wreckage. She'd be happy to be the one to make them pay, too.
Miri stopped and forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. Her thoughts were going too fast, were too far out of control. She had to bring herself under control or she'd end up doing something horrible. She was so filled with rage that she couldn't see straight anymore. More than once, Stark had asked her if she was okay. And she was starting to think that she'd have a permanent imprint of her gun's grip on her palm from gripping the weapon so tightly and frequently.
It seemed an age before they finally stepped into the last hallway before they hit the bridge. She was beginning to see that Stark hadn't been kidding about the damage. The walls here, solid sheets of metal, were buckled and crinkled as if they were made of nothing more than tissue paper. It was a miracle that this part of the ship was still open enough to reach. Her heart seized as she considered what that meant.
Even though she knew that the bridge wasn't located immediately in the nose, it was still near enough to the very front of the carrier that it wouldn't have escaped damage. She shuddered. If the halls here were any indication, the destruction had to be absolute. That meant... She stopped dead in her tracks for a second as her mind sorted out just what that meant. If the bridge had suffered damage the way these halls had, anyone who had been on it at the time of impact would likely have not survived.
She couldn't help herself. She pushed past Stark and made her way up the hall toward the door that opened into the bridge. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Agent Grant? This area of the helicarrier isn't safe!" Stark's electronic voice called after her.
She ignored him, moved closer and closer to the door. Determination, the need to know, filled her until she was almost choking on them. She said a prayer, a silent one in her head that she'd gotten from Alex a long time ago, then took hold of the door's handle. It turned halfway then stopped. Locked. She muttered a curse under her breath and put her weight against it, shoving hard with her shoulder, but the door wouldn't budge.
Frustration drew a sharp, terse swear word from her throat and she tried once again to shove the door open. By then, Tony had joined her and was trying to pull her away from the door without actually hurting her. She whirled on him and glared up into the face plate. "Would you let me go?" she snarled at him.
"This part of the carrier is extremely unstable. If you were to get that door open, there's no telling what kind of damage its going to do. You could bring this whole section down on top of our heads."
"Agent Coulson is in there. I am getting him out, no matter what the cost."
"Even if that cost is you getting killed?" he asked quietly.
"I'm getting him out." She made sure to say each word slowly and succinctly, so that he'd know she was serious. He only stared back at her. She took his silence for agreement. "Since you're the resident fucking engineering genius, figure out a way to get in there without bringing the whole thing down. And do it now."
She thought that Stark would balk at her blatant order. But he didn't. He simply turned to study the wall, then took hold of her arm and pulled her back. "Stay behind me until I'm finished. And you might want to cover your eyes for a second or two."
Miri didn't argue. She stepped back, giving him a few good feet to work, then aimed one of his arms at the wall. She didn't get to see what he did because she put her arm up over her face the moment an extremely bright light hit her eyes. But she heard what sounded like a torch as it cut through the metal bulkhead. She didn't look again until the noise cut off.
The metal was red hot where Stark had cut through it, though the panel was still standing. Miri looked up at him to find that he was staring at her again. She was getting tired of that shit. Propping her fists on her hips, she glared back at him. "What the fuck is your problem? What are you staring at?"
He ignored her question. "How do you want to do this?"
Hefting her Glock, she stepped forward. If he was going to play this cool, so was she. "I'm going in first. Are you getting any readings from inside?"
"I scanned earlier. I got something faint but... I can't tell you if its Coulson or not." She heard regret in the electronic voice. Nodding, she stepped up to the new door Stark had cut for them. A glance at him saw him reaching out to give the heavy metal a push.
The make shift door creaked ever so slightly, then slowly toppled to the ground. The sound of the metal hitting the floor was loud. But it wasn't metallic. It was more a dull, crunchy sound. She chose not to think of why that would be and stepped past him into the bridge.
Bodies were strewn everywhere. There were some that she knew belonged to S.H.I.E.L.D. agents but most of them were HYDRA's people. What had once been a large, spacious bridge was now little more than a pile of wreckage and debris. The instrument panels were smashed and shattered glass crunched under her feet as she walked. The room smelled heavily of gun powder and blood. And the stench of shit and piss. She wanted to gag, but she was stronger than that. She'd seen worse than this.
"Over there. Near the wall." A red, metal clad arm pointed past her head while Tony's altered voice spoke from just behind her. Miri nodded to let him know she'd heard, then started forward. She said that prayer again and hoped like hell that someone was listening. The floor was so covered with debris and corpses that she had to watch where she was stepping. It took a lot longer to get to the hidden spot that Tony had indicated.
When she did, when she saw what some random chunk of equipment hid, every inch of her body went numb. The hold she had on her gun went lax and it slipped absently from limp fingers. She never heard the metallic clang of it hitting the ground. All she could hear was her heart pounding in her chest and the rushing of blood in her ears.
"Oh, God," she groaned softly, started forward and might have fallen if not for Tony's hand on her arm. "Oh, God. Phil."
~*~*~*~*~
The entire area was lit by brilliant white lights that shone upon the downed ship so that every line and crease could be seen by the naked eye. There were so many people there, too. They milled in small and large groups on either side, apparently waiting for something. He recognized their healers, saw the flashing lights of their peace keepers. Trees had been ripped from the ground and leveled, while clods of dirt had been thrown up in large pieces. Parts of the ship lay scattered around its still body, torn off and thrown clear when the thing had come down.
Guilt tore through him. He was supposed to have prevented this. And he could have, had it not been for his brother. Part of him wondered if he should have left Astrid's rescue for after the battle. The other part of him knew that Loki would never have allowed such a thing to happen. He would have lured Thor to his castle with threats of violence against the mortal woman who held his brother's heart. Either way, Thor was meant to miss the battle and, thusly, miss saving his friends and allies.
He spied a familiar figure in black, standing apart from everyone else. Director Fury. It was his duty to report to the man. He was supposed to have helped protect the man's air ship and he'd failed in his job, If Fury wanted to remove him from his position, it was the man's right. Thor brought himself down next to the solitary leader and waited.
At first, he didn't think that Director Fury had seen him. The man remained silent and kept staring at the ship. Thor considered saying something and made a move to do just that. But Fury turned and fixed that single eye upon him, freezing Thor where he stood. "And just where the hell have you been?"
"My brother was involved in this. I went after him."
"And left your team behind." There wasn't an ounce of emotion in the man's voice. Thor had learned many things in his time here on Midgard with the mortals. The most important thing was that when Director Fury showed no emotion at all, someone was in very deep trouble. He had seen this first hand with Tony more than once. This time, Thor was the one who was in trouble.
"Loki had Astrid. I feared her would harm her."
"So you left your team behind." It was a statement of fact, not a question. Thor found himself nodding his head anyway. Fury sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, then pinned Thor with "the Look." Thor wasn't afraid of many men, but that look always left him unsettled. "I've got good people in there right now, seeking out your team and the rest of the people you left behind to chase after your brother. So far, they've brought out more than a dozen survivors."
"Survivors are good," Thor said helpfully.
"There were hundreds of people on board the helicarrier. You could have saved them if you'd remained with it. But you left. And now I'm going to have to notify hundreds of families about their loved ones' senseless deaths."
Hundreds dead? Thor felt his temper spike. As ever where his brother was concerned, this had been little more than a game. Something to amuse Loki in a fit of boredom. And an excellent way to hurt Thor. He would avenge their deaths, if it took him the rest of his life. Loki would pay for what he'd done here. Thor's grip on Mjolnir tightened.
"I want your big blonde ass in there right now, backing up one of my teams," he ordered. "Agent Quinn, I'm sending in more help. Thor has just arrived and he's going to be helping you out."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't need the help." The woman's voice carried over a small device in the man's ear. Thor heard her clearly enough. There was tension in her words that suggested she wasn't happy with her task or the unwanted help.
"Did I ask you what you wanted, Agent Quinn?"
"No, sir."
"I'm sending him to you now. From now on, let him do the heavy lifting."
"Yes, sir."
Fury motioned a harried looking young man over. "Take Thor in to Agent Quinn's location."
"Yes, sir," the man nodded and started toward the downed ship. Fury just stared at Thor until he turned and followed after the other man. As the two of them stepped into the darkness of the ship's belly, he made a promise to himself and to those who had been left injured or dead in the wake of his departure that he would make his brother pay for this.
~*~*~*~*~
Tony watched as the gun dropped from Grant's hand, forgotten as she stared at whatever lay behind the piece of equipment. The weapon didn't go off and he might have taken her to task on her carelessness, but the look on her face stopped him. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Phil."
There was such anguish in her voice. So much pain. Tony closed the distance between them so that he could see what she was looking at. His stomach turned. Coulson was sprawled lifelessly against the wall, head tipped to the side to expose a gash at his temple that bled heavily. Not that every other wound he'd sustained wasn't doing the same, albeit a little sluggishly. The man's face was a mask of blood and his hair was caked in it. His suit was torn and ripped, spots of dirt mingling with more blood. There were bits of glass everywhere, pieces of shredded metal. It was hard to really determine what kind of injuries the man had sustained because he looked like one giant injury.
"I need the med unit in here now. We found Agent Coulson and he needs immediate medical assistance," Tony ordered, not caring who responded. Just so long as they got there fast. The sensors on his suit said Coulson was alive, but it was a close thing. Surprisingly, though, that wasn't his main concern. Instead, he turned his full attention to the woman at his side. She was about to fall over. "Jarvis, cut off the comm signal so that our conversation is private."
"Yes, sir," the computer replied. A second later, the AI spoke again. "Comm unit is jammed, sir. You have complete privacy."
"Thank you, Jarvis." Reaching out, Tony took hold of her arm and turned to steer her toward a corner where there was little debris. "Come on. You need to sit down."
It was a testament to how shaken Agent Grant was that she simply let him lead her away. He scooped up a chair on the walk over and set it in the corner, then urged her down into it. After popping the face plate on the suit, he stared down at her and shook his head. "You might want to try and pull it together before the med team gets here. If they see you like this..." he trailed off when she looked up at him. "You want word to get around that you're in love with him?"
Grant opened her mouth, probably to snap at him that she wasn't in love with Agent Phil Coulson, but Tony could see the signs. He'd been putting the puzzle together for a while now and her reactions here on the helicarrier were the final, missing piece that gave him the whole picture. "Don't deny it. The cover was too good, kid. Nobody's that professional all the time. Not even him."
He watched as her eyes darted back to the still figure on the floor. "I should have told him," she whispered.
"Coulson's pretty damned sharp. He probably knows. But that doesn't change the fact that a whole team of medical personnel are about to come in here. If they see you like this, they're going to assume you're in shock. And then they're going to swarm around you and try to treat you. Is that what you want?"
She thought about it for a minute before shaking her head at him. "No. No one is supposed to know about us."
"Then you need to pull it together. There will be time enough to fall apart later. When you're all alone."
She looked up at him, eyes huge. He could see that she was processing his words, that she was slowly pulling herself back together. Gradually, the glassy-eyed look she'd been giving him receded until she was once more Miriam Grant, calm and cool and poised S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Finally, she was once again wrapped up in her agent persona. "Thank you, Mr. Stark," she said quietly. He thought about calling her on the Mr. Stark thing, but decided that now wasn't the time. Instead, he nodded and stepped back.
She rose from her seat and crossed the room on much steadier feet than before. He watched as she retrieved her weapon and holstered it, then carefully picked her way back to Coulson's side. For a moment, it looked as if she wanted to kneel down and touch him, one hand fisting at her side. But she didn't move. "What kind of vitals does he have?" she asked quietly.
Tony told her the truth. There was no reason to lie to her. Lying would do her any favors in the long run. "Respiration is shallow. Pulse is weak and thready. He's hanging on by a thread."
"There's a chance he can pull through this?"
"I can't say," Tony told her, then sighed. "I'm not a doctor. I don't know anything about his survival chances. Only a medical doctor can tell you that for sure. But I do know that the sooner we get him help, the better his odds are."
"You're right," she nodded her head.
"Jarvis, restore the comm link now," Tony ordered the AI.
"Done, sir," the computer's voice reported only a moment later.
"Director Fury, I need a stretcher in here immediately. Agent Coulson is in dire need of medical assistance," she spoke into her comm. Tony noticed that she didn't take her eyes off of Coulson. "Stark says his vitals are extremely low. We're going to need a chopper to lift him straight to the hospital."
"Stretcher's on its way in, Grant. Chopper is standing by." Fury's voice paused a moment. When it came again, Tony swore he could hear a faint hint of relief in it. "Good job, Grant. As soon as Coulson is on the stretcher, I want your ass out of there."
~*~*~*~*~
The room was large and contained many platforms and walkways that stretched over his head. It also contained many bodies. Some were associated with S.H.I.E.L.D. while others belonged to the people who had attacked the air ship. Thor watched the young woman leading the team move from one body to the next, checking for signs of life. So far, she had found none.
Thor had been observing the woman work, noting the efficient way she moved from one body to the next, gun drawn and pointed at the felled foes in case one of them was merely playing dead. She'd systematically inspected every one, using her fingers to look for a pulse while her hands had searched for any other evidence. She was good at her tasks, but her attention to detail was starting to slip. Thor had noticed, with the last few bodies, that she'd come away distracted and slightly confused. He couldn't understand why this might be.
"Fan out. Search for any survivors," she ordered her team tersely. Then she lifted her head and began searching the walkways above their heads for... something.
He saw it when her gaze froze, as did her entire being. Thor let his eyes seek out what it was she was looking at and found that she stared at a bow, caught on the railing of one of the catwalks. It hung there, silent and still. And it obviously meant something to her.
"Agent Quinn? I think we've got a survivor," one voice called from the other side of the room. The woman hurried toward the speaker and Thor followed. They arrived to find one of the young agents holding a gun on one of the enemy agents. The man was giving a grimace of pain, a wound in his shoulder leaking blood.
"Bind his hands. Make sure he has no weapons. The med team can get to him once we've ascertained none of our people are in need of their assistance," she replied curtly. "Make sure the zip tie is good and tight."
"Yes, ma'am," the agent nodded and reached for one of the zip tie things she'd referred to. Seeing that the man was doing as he'd been ordered, the woman turned away and began to make her way back to the spot she'd been in before being called over to the enemy agent's side. Thor decided to go with her, curious to see what she would do next. Her more recent actions seemed incongruous with those from only a few minutes ago. Something was bothering her.
She stopped next to a body with an arrow embedded in its skull, the feathers that made up the fletching black as night. One of her hands reached out to lightly graze the arrow, then she spun on her heel and once more gave her attention to the walkway overhead. "Something troubles you, Agent Quinn?" Thor asked her quietly. She only shot him a look, then began walking away from him.
Her feet almost went out from under her when she stepped in a wide streak of red. Thor reached out and steadied her, letting go of her arm when she pulled away from him. At first, he thought she would chastise him for helping, but then he noticed that her eyes were following a wide trail of blood as it crossed the floor. The trail ended at a closed door. Without saying a word, she ran to the door and pulled it open.
Someone fell at her feet.
"I need a stretcher in here, stat! I've located Hawkeye, sir. He looks seriously wounded," she reported even as she knelt and carefully pressed her fingers against the man's throat. "Yes, sir. He's alive, but it looks like he's bleeding heavily. Yes, sir." She paused and looked up. "Where the fuck is my med unit? You sons of bitches get in here and take care of him now!"
The room burst into a flurry of action. Thor found it interesting to watch the medical people go about their business and he was so enrapt with what they were doing that he almost missed Agent Quinn moving off by herself. There was purpose in her stride, and intent. And Thor could see that she carried a weapon in her hand. He pulled away from the group that had gathered around the archer and followed her.
He caught up with her in time to find her standing over the captured agent. The man was still giving them his smiling grimace, his hands bound tightly together before him. She had her weapon pointed at his head. "Die, you mother fucking cock sucker."
The echo of the gun shot was loud as it rang through the air. And Thor found himself too late to stop her.
Chapter Eighteen: Wreckage
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in. probably some drinking.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators,
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.The Mary Sue Virus: Lights, Camera, Avengers! - The Index
Even though the fire crews had said they'd put out all of the fires, both on the ground and on the helicarrier, the stench of charred wood and grass and metal still hung heavy and thick in the air. The devastation to the area was hard to judge in the darkness, even with the portable lights set up around the wreckage, but it looked like the carrier had taken out a good chunk of Central Park when it had crashed. It looked like a fucking war zone.
Despite the fact that she was tired and bleeding from multiple lacerations, there was no other place that Alex wanted to be. Those were her colleagues and friends inside that wreck. She was going to help rescue them. She let her gaze rake over the scene, watching emergency workers scurry back and forth. There were ambulances waiting, lights still flashing though their sirens were silent. Every entrance and exit into the park was blocked by New York's men in blue, so there were strobing red and blue lights off in the distance all around them. The chopper they'd arrived in was behind them and a small team of agents was scouring the site for any clues they could find. That seemed kind of redundant, but she wasn't the one running the show.
Her gaze slipped sideways to glance up at Fury. It was hard to tell by the impassive look on his face, but she thought he might be upset. He was as still as a statue, waiting patiently for Stark to bring him the information he needed. Fucking Iron Man was taking his own sweet fucking time. There were people in there who needed their help and they were stuck waiting outside until the resident genius billionaire playboy philanthropist gave them an all clear to go into the carrier. It felt like the man was taking too damn long.
Since there was nothing else to do, Alex compulsively checked every pocket on her uniform for the supplies she'd stashed there. Side pockets on the thighs held extra clips, two in each one. A knife was nestled in a leather sheath and hung from her belt. Her Glocks were holstered, also on her belt, and each one held a fresh magazine. One pocket held throwing stars while another was loaded with zip ties. On the off chance she took a HYDRA agent alive.
She'd changed before leaving the base, deciding that her torn and tattered work out clothes wouldn't look professional enough at a crash site. She'd slipped into the standard issue onesie. It was tight enough to hold the hastily applied gauze pads in place until she could sit down and spend time with the med unit. Any injuries she'd suffered were minor next to the job that loomed before them. Her long black hair, a frightening mess after running through the gauntlet that had been the base, had been combed back into a hasty pony tail to hang limp and dirty down her back. Her hands, scraped, scratched, and bleeding, were hidden under a pair of fingerless gloves.
Her gaze swept the clearing, seeking out familiar faces. There weren't many she recognized. She knew that Natasha had stayed at base with Maria Hill. The two of them would oversee rounding up any living HYDRA agents and locking them away. They would also make sure that the wounded who needed medical attention would get it. Fury had left Banner there, too, telling him that he didn't want to have to worry about the man's giant green ass showing when they were in the public eye. Agent Sitwell was dealing with the hastily set up tent filled with tech. But she didn't see any of the other Avengers here. She thought that Cap and Thor would be here to aid in the search and rescue, as well as the clean up. And she totally wasn't looking for Clint.
Frowning at the lack of familiar faces, she let her eyes drift toward Miri. Her friend was standing on the other side of Fury, her face set in a perfectly blank mask that suggested there was something very intense going on in her head. She hadn't really been herself since they'd been in the comm room and had heard the distress call from the helicarrier. There was only one reason Alex could think of that explained that and she wasn't sure she was ready to believe it just yet. Still, it would explain a lot of stuff. For now, she would file away what she knew and try to contain her growing testiness.
She was about to start pestering Fury for permission to enter the helicarrier and conduct her own search when Stark came striding out of a hole in the exterior bulkheads. The face plate of his suit raised as he neared the three of them. "Well, Mr. Stark? Have you got anything for me?"
"There's significant structural damage in the front half of the ship. It went down nose first, so this isn't surprising. The back half of the ship is in pretty good shape. I believe it should hold long enough to run a search and rescue through it. The front half..." The look on his face wasn't encouraging. "I wouldn't recommend sending anyone that way. There's no telling when the supports are going to give in and come down."
"I'll take the front half, sir." Miri's announcement didn't really surprise Alex. But it caught Fury's attention well enough. She watched as the man turned to give her friend a stare out of his one eye. To her credit, Miri didn't flinch or shift under the man's scrutiny.
"You heard the resident engineering genius, Agent Grant. He doesn't think that the front is structurally sound. Why would you want to risk your life going in there? Why should I risk a medical team because you're feeling invincible?"
"Because Agent Coulson is in there, sir. We owe it to him to get him out." Alex was pretty sure that there was more to the sentence, but Miri refused to say it. Even if he's dead. The two of them stared at one another, a silent battle of wills that lasted nearly a full two minutes. Finally, Fury shook his head and turned his attention back to Stark.
"Can you give me a comprehensive map of where all the damage is? Where its safe for my agents to walk and where it isn't? Agent Grant is going to go in and attempt to find Agent Coulson and anyone else left alive." Fury glanced over at Alex. "Agent Quinn, you'll take the other half of the carrier. You'll each have a medical team with you. Bring out survivors. If any HYDRA agents are still alive, I want them kept that way for questioning. Mr. Stark, once you have my maps ready, I want you with Agent Grant in case something goes bad."
Tony blinked at Fury for a few second, eyes wide with what Alex thought was shock. "Of course. Because it makes perfect sense to send more people into that giant coffin to die."
"Maps, Mr. Stark. You have five minutes. I believe Agent Sitwell has everything you'll need to print off those maps for me. I want you to make sure you put in every single area of questionable safety." Fury told the other man. When Tony didn't move right away, Fury lifted his arm and tapped one finger against a wrist to indicate that the clock was ticking. Stark said nothing, but he did head over to the tech tent where Sitwell was waiting. "Need I remind you two that there is no room for error with this mission?"
"No, sir," Alex shook her head. Miri didn't say anything until Fury looked at her. Then she managed a tight shake of her head. Fury took a step or two back until he could keep them both in his line of sight and leveled 'the Look' on them.
"I'm only going to say this once. So you'd better listen and listen good. I expect you to maintain a certain modicum of professionalism in there. And I expect you to have it done yesterday," he told them, voice filled with authority. When neither of them said anything, he gave them 'the Look' again. "Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir," Alex and Miri chimed together.
"Good." Fury shifted his attention away. Alex glanced over to see that Tony was on his way toward them, two sheets of paper in his hands. When he stopped before them, he divided the maps and handed one to Alex while the other went to Miri. Alex looked down at the map and found it to be a multi-layered blueprint of the helicarrier. Quite a few sections were inked in red.
"The red areas are the dangerous ones." Tony reached out and traced the lines with his fingers. "This is the worst area here. I made sure that it was easy to see where they were and easier still to follow. If something shifts or creaks ominously, I suggest you run fast in the other direction."
"Understood," Alex told him.
"The med teams are standing by." Fury tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Radio communication at all times, ladies."
That was their green light. Alex folded up the map and took a breath. It was going to be a daunting task. There was so much in there to go through. So many people to attempt to find. Securing the map in a pocket, she drew one of her guns and held it loosely at her side. She and Miri were leading these rescue missions, weapons drawn in case there were HYDRA agents still alive and willing to kill a few more members of S.H.I.E.L.D.
She hoped she found a few.
She didn't look at Miri until they were standing before the gaping wound in the helicarrier's side. Stark had put his face plate down and was waiting on them to get a move on. Alex turned to give Miri a smile. Miri looked... afraid. "Keep your ass safe in there, Miri."
Miri shook her head. "I've got Stark. What have you got?"
"A bad attitude," Alex grinned. She motioned to one of the med teams and stepped toward the hole. She'd made it into the darkened interior before Miri's voice brought her to a halt.
"Alex." She turned to look at her friend. "I'm invoking rule number one. Right here. Right now. Break it and you will not like what I do to you."
Alex smiled at that, a real expression that she made sure the other woman saw. "Right back at you, Miri. Make it out of there alive or I will totally set you up with all four of my brothers." If Miri had any comment to that, she kept it to herself. But saying it went a long way toward making Alex feel so much better.
There were no lights left shining, forcing Alex to bring a Maglite out of one of her many pockets. Clicking it on brought to life a powerful LED light that cut the shadows in two. More beams of light came on behind her, one for each member of the team of agents she was leading. She turned to look at them, conscious of a moving flow of light farther up the hall in the other direction. Miri's team heading deeper into the most damaged parts of the ship. She didn't let herself think of what could happen, instead focused on her team. "Everyone is to keep their eyes open. Watch for any sign of danger. And I don't just mean possible collapsing structures. There are still HYDRA agents on this thing. The goal is to take as many alive as possible." She reached up with one hand, the flashlight held in it, and tapped the comm unit plugged into her ear with one finger. "You are to always maintain radio contact with me. Understood?"
"Daddy is listening in." Fury's voice filled her ear, the menace plain to hear in it.
"Yes, ma'am," one of the younger agents said. All of them nodded and drew their weapons. She gave them a grim look, then turned and took point. The med unit was sandwiched between her and the rest of the team. The lead had a scanner that worked on body heat. If they passed anyone who was still alive, the scanner would let them know.
The group moved as silently as possible, chatter being kept to a minimum while they were careful where they put their feet. Alex swept rooms that were accessible. There were some that were empty, with furniture and papers and things thrown around the room crazily. There were some rooms that had rubble cluttering them, no sign of ever having housed anything or anyone. There were some that bore dark stains on the floor. In some of the rooms, Alex could see that the rubble had been shifted aside, as if someone had tried to dig someone else out. "Keep an eye out, everyone. Someone's been attempting rescues in here."
"Roger that, Alex," Miri's voice was soft and tense. "We've seen some evidence of that here, too. But no survivors."
"No survivors here, either. I'm starting to think that there won't be any." Her friend had no reply for that. Alex let it go. She had a feeling she knew where Miri's mind was at right at that moment and it certainly wasn't on the lack of survivors. Alex pushed forward, putting all of her focus on the search and rescue.
Silence clung to them, mocking their attempts with the lack of sounds. There were pockets of smoke here and there to contend with, leaving the taste of grease and ash in the back of her throat. They occasionally encountered places where the debris had spilled out of open doors to block most of the hallway floor. In those instances, the team was forced to pick its way over the mounds to more stable floor. Sometimes, Alex had her underlings move the larger pieces of rubble out of the way.
It was amazing how she could focus her thoughts in two different directions. Outwardly, she gave the appearance of being intent on their surroundings. And she was. She'd been doing her job for so long that she'd found a way to portion out her brain so that she could work on several problems at once. And should something change suddenly, she'd be on top of it. She wouldn't need reminding or prodding. She'd just do and think about her reactions later. But there was a part of her mind that wouldn't let go of the odd behavior she'd seen out of Miri lately.
Alex had always thought that there was something going on with Miri, but she'd always believed there was nothing to the something that her brain had produced. The very notion that Miri and Coulson, the most mild-mannered and absolutely unexciting man at S.H.I.E.L.D., might be doing sexual things to one another had always seemed like some kind of joke. The kind of wild stories that desperate men who'd had a few too many drinks had told their friends to rationalize her turning them down. Some bullshit story that no one would ever believe. And Alex didn't believe it. Or rather, she hadn't.
Seeing Miri's reaction to hearing that Coulson was piloting the helicarrier as it went down was making her reassess her thoughts in that arena. She'd never seen Miri react to anything the way she had when she'd heard that message. She supposed it was possible that Miri might be engaging in bedroom sports with their tight-laced, tight-lipped boss. But she didn't think it was probable. Coulson just didn't seem to be Miri's type. Hell, if anyone around S.H.I.E.L.D. was Miri's type, it was Clint. Alex just couldn't picture Miri and Coulson together. Naked. Doing the nasty. It just... No. It wasn't possible. There was no way Miri would go there. No way in hell.
"Agent Quinn," the lead medic said quietly, drawing her full attention his way. He motioned to one room with the scanner, then held up one finger to indicate that there was a living body in the room to their left. She nodded in understanding, then shot a look toward her underlings. A few basic hand commands had one acting as her back up, while the others would keep an eye out. Then she waved the med unit back and waited until they were out of the line of fire before heading into the room.
Well, it had once been a room. But now it was little more than a trash heap. Alex's gaze flicked to the floor, where she could see a thick pool of viscous fluid leaking out from under some overturned furniture. She slowed her steps, made sure that her feet were silent as death as she crept closer to what she was sure had once been a bookshelf or armoire. There was a hand reaching out from under the large box, fingers coated in blood. She glanced over her shoulder at her backup, then reached down and took hold of the shelf.
It was far too heavy for one hand. She was going to have to holster her weapon. She knew it was a bad idea, but she had no choice. Another look at her backup assured her that one of the younger agents had inched forward into the room. His weapon was trained on the spot where the hand reached out from under the case. The muscles in her arms strained and she felt some of the freshly closed wounds rip open as she lifted the case away from the trapped victim.
It was a woman, dressed in a standard issue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. "Shit. That's Ferguson. We went through training together," a member of her backup said.
She glanced up to see that he looked a little pale and shaky. "Go wait out in the hall," Alex commanded softly, voice filled with steel. "Doc, you and your team can get in here and help this one out. She's one of ours."
"Situation, Quinn," Fury's voice instructed in her ear. She moved aside as the med unit filed in and began assessing the woman's injuries. She thought she heard some strain in the director's words.
"Agent Ferguson, sir. She was buried under an armoire or bookcase." Alex watched the med unit working over the woman. Their voices were hushed, though she could still hear them. They didn't sound very optimistic about her chances. "It doesn't look good, sir. The medic thinks she's got some heavy duty internal bleeding."
The lead medic looked up at her. "Agent Quinn, we need to move her and fast. She might have a chance, but it depends on whether or not we can get her into surgery soon."
"Stay where you are, Quinn. I've got people coming in to bring her out."
"Yes, sir."
Alex stood and waited while the med team worked on the downed agent. Soon enough, she could hear the faint rattle of a gurney as it was rolled up the hallway. A pair of EMTs joined the small crowd in the room. They were careful as they transferred the woman from the floor to the wheeled cot. As soon as they had her out the door and on her way to a waiting ambulance, Alex motioned her team forward and once more led the way up the hall.
The following rooms were more of the same. Each one was demolished, all manner of rubble and debris covering the floor. In some, they saw evidence of people having been there when the attacks had taken place. Spots of blood on the floor or body parts protruding from the piles of trash. More often than not, the people they found were long past their help. Not that they didn't find a few living people who needed their help. Just not as many as they'd hoped.
On one or two occasions, they actually found living HYDRA agents. Alex took great joy in ensuring none of them were capable of doing anything but glaring mulishly at her. If the zip ties holding their hands were a little tight, it was no skin off her teeth. The enemy agents that they found were gathered up by some of the flunkies hovering around outside and taken to a holding cell of some sort. Let Fury deal with them. He was better suited to it. If she had her way, she'd just kill them all.
They were somewhere in the middle of the ship when the lead medic put his hand on her arm. She turned to look at him. He was staring at a room on their right. She could see that his scanner indicated someone was alive in there. She nodded at him, sent a look to her backup, then made to enter the room. A sign by the door caught her eye and she frowned. This was the lab. Why would someone have been in the lab during the attack?
She was halfway across the room when a pile of papers and books shifted against the far wall. Alex brought her gun up and pointed it at the moving trash. A blonde head broke through the debris and she found herself staring into slightly glassy blue eyes.
"Holy shit!" she whispered.
~*~*~*~*~
Steve struggled to stand, his head spinning dizzily. He was having a hard time focusing but he could see a pale blob not far from him that he took to be a face. And he thought that he saw a black blob there, too. Gun, he thought in an absent manner. He tried to lift his shield, but it was pinned and his arm was useless. "Hang on, Rogers. We're here to get you out," a woman's voice told him. "Sir, I've located Captain Rogers. I need a team to evacuate him immediately. He looks disoriented."
No one answered the woman. But that didn't stop her from going on. "We're in the lab, sir. Yes, sir. I will not leave his side. I'll be waiting for the EMTs here, sir."
His mind latched on to one thing. The lab. Why was he in the lab? He'd come for something, hadn't he? His mind was fuzzy with pain, suggesting he'd either hit his head or something had fallen on it. So he slowed his breathing, forced himself to focus. The lab. He'd been coming to the lab to save someone. To save...
"Elsa!" he got out, then turned back to the pile of trash around his legs.
"Dr. Jones?" the woman asked. In a few moments, she was at his side. Her hands made him look at her, even though he knew he should be digging into the mound. Steve blinked at her, trying to focus on her face. It was still blurry. "Captain Rogers, did you say that Dr. Jones is in here?"
"Yes," he managed. The woman turned away from him and began barking orders. "Doc, bring your team in here and assess Captain Rogers. Kinsey! You're with me. Dr. Jones is buried in this pile somewhere. We're going to find her. But be careful. We can't know what her condition is and we don't want to injure her any further than she already might be."
Another blob joined the woman. Though his face wasn't as blurry as just a moment ago, Steve was still having a hard time making out his features. He watched as they began shifting the debris off the top of the pile, carefully moving pieces. He should help. He was just leaning down to do that when a hand caught him by the shoulder and pushed him upright. "You come with me, Captain Rogers. Let Agents Quinn and Kinsey search for Dr. Jones. I need to examine you. Agent Quinn, be sure that Director Fury sends a second gurney in."
"Sir, did you catch all of that?" the woman's voice was asking. Steve watched as she and the other agent bent to their task. The man who had his hand on Steve's arm was leading him toward the other side of the room. "Yes, sir. I'm already working on it now."
"Captain Rogers, do you remember what happened?" the man asked him.
"HYDRA attacked us. I was..." Steve paused and frowned. What had he been doing? He was sure he'd been doing something. Before he'd come here to save Elsa, he'd been doing something else. But he couldn't recall what. A bright light flashed in his eyes, momentarily blinding him. He tried pulling back, but the disorientation and the dizziness made it nearly impossible. "I'm sure I was doing something. I just don't remember at the moment."
"I think you have a mild concussion, Captain Rogers. You're going to go to medical to get checked out," the man told him. The light went away and the man turned to consult with someone at his side. Steve sat for a second, watching them fall into conversation, before looking over at the wall where the pile of papers and other things had fallen down over himself and Elsa. About four or five people were busy moving debris off the pile. He had to help Elsa.
Staggering to his feet, he shuffled toward the group, intent on digging Elsa out of the rubble. A hand grabbed at his arm, fingers tight as it tried to pull him back. "Captain Rogers, please! You have to sit and rest. You could be seriously injured."
Steve shrugged the man off and kept going. He was only dimly aware of a soft thud and people talking rapidly in strident voices. Not that he cared. His focus was on Elsa and only Elsa. He had to get her out of that pile and get the doctors to treat her. She'd already been in bad shape when he'd arrived in her lab. Any further delay could be deadly.
The floor shifted faintly under his feet, bringing forth a series of fuzzy memories. After encountering the woman from Elsa's lab, Steve had made his way as quickly as possible to the lab. His shield had served him well, taking down any enemy who happened to get in his way as quickly and efficiently as a hot knife slicing through butter. It had been a race against the clock because he'd been able to feel the deck shifting under his feet, the ship listing further and further to one side.
By the time he'd reached the lab's door, he'd known that they were going to hit ground. He'd wanted to be with Elsa when that happened, in the hopes that he could offer her an extra layer of protection. The door had given him trouble, forcing him to kick it open so that he could get inside of the large area. It had been an utter disaster.
Papers and books had been scattered around like they'd been thrown by a tornado. Expensive equipment had been tossed to the floor off tables, had fallen over from spots against the wall. The tables had all shifted to one side of the room and glass littered the floor. Right about the time he'd found Elsa's feet jutting out from under a bookshelf, she'd called his name weakly. There'd been blood staining the floor and clotted in her hair. She hadn't looked good.
The bookcase had been nothing to move. He'd damn near picked it up and thrown it in his eagerness to get to Elsa. He couldn't remember what he'd done to mess up his arm, but it had to have happened then. Because he remembered only being able to use one hand to check her over. And then the world had gone insane. The ship had lurched and juddered, throwing Steve into the wall. Elsa had gone with him and he'd had only an instant to make a decision. He'd curled himself around Elsa, then positioned the shield in front of them. A second later, everything in the lab had slammed into them and fallen on top of them to bury them alive.
"Agent Quinn!" The voice from behind was sharp and it pulled one of the people digging into the pile upright. It was a woman and she turned to look at him. A frown spread across her face immediately. Without saying anything to the other man, she crossed to where Steve stood.
"Captain Rogers, you need to sit down. You've been injured." She motioned to something behind him. Steve shook his head.
"But I can help," he protested, taking another step toward the pile of debris. It didn't seem to be getting any smaller, no matter how many pieces of rubble they shifted off of it. By the time these people had Elsa uncovered, it would be too late.
"I really must insist, Captain Rogers." The woman put her hand out, her palm landing flat against his chest. "If you don't go sit down of your own free will, I will have you restrained. It might not hold you, but I will do it just the same. This is my rescue mission. You are one of the survivors. You'll do as I say."
"Elsa needs me," he told her, hoping she'd understand.
"Elsa's my friend, Captain Rogers," she said softly. He blinked at that, trying to focus on the woman. It took a minute or two, but he finally realized that he'd seen her talking with Elsa more than once. He was sure he knew who she was, but his brains were so scrambled that he couldn't think of a name. There was understanding in her eyes. And she was pleading with him to listen to her. "I'm going to do everything I can to get her out of that mess, but I can't do that if I have to fight with you. Please. Go sit down. You need to be checked over back at medical. Your shoulder looks dislocated. If you try to do anything before its put back in place, you'll do more extensive damage. You might be harder to hurt, but it isn't impossible."
"I can't leave her in there." This last was said with a hint of helplessness and hopelessness tainting his voice. The woman stepped forward, shifted her hand until it rested on his good shoulder.
"I swear to you that I'll get her out of there alive. Just go sit down. Don't make me order you around, soldier." She stared up at him, begging him to do as she asked. His gaze drifted to the pile where he knew Elsa was, then back to the woman's earnest face. She was watching him intently, waiting to see what he would do. Steve sighed and shook his head, but he let the tension leak out of his muscles. The minute he relaxed, the woman did, too. She offered him a quick, soft smile. "Give him a hand, gentlemen. I've got to get back to work."
She didn't wait to see if they listened to her or not. She simply turned around and headed back over to the pile. He had a moment to see her attack it with a new ferocity, then he was being led toward the far wall. Someone had set up a makeshift bench or whatever and he found himself forced down onto it. Steve sat hard, barely took notice as the medic went about looking him over. He watched the woman instead, saw how she dug into the pile with a renewed sense of purpose.
A rattling sound distracted him from watching the search for a moment. He turned to find that a pair of men came in, rolling a stretcher between them. A second pair come right after them. The medic was suddenly in his face, urging him to get up and get onto one of the stretchers. Steve shot him a look that sent him away, then gave his attention back to the search.
The pile was gone and he could see the dusty red, white, and blue rings of his shield. It was wedged between the floor and some kind of shelf, creating a small pocket against the wall. The woman stood and looked at the men who had been helping her. "Lift that off. Carefully. Don't you dare drop it or you'll hit the mats with me for a week straight so I can kick your ass into shape. And I'll be sure to bring my fucking monkey wrench."
Oddly, the men paled ever so slightly, then reached for the shelf, one at each end. It was obviously a strain on them, trying to lift the shelf, but they managed. The woman used one hand to hold the shield up while the other reached behind it and took hold of something. She glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded faintly, then turned to the newcomers with the stretcher. "I need you gentlemen over here now. I don't dare move her. I don't know what kind of injuries she's sustained."
The men went, taking the stretcher with them. Steve's heart stopped and his breath stilled while he waited and watched. It felt like a lifetime passed as they worked. But soon enough, the men had Elsa laid out on the stretcher and were securing her with straps for transport. His eyes never left her form until they'd rolled her out the door. By then, her friend was standing in front of him with the shield held awkwardly in her hands. "Thank you."
"No, Cap," she said softly as she presented him with his shield. "Thank you. Now get him out of here. I want them both on the next transport to medical. And you will go without argument, Captain Rogers, or I will personally bash you over the head with your shield." While the instructions were given to the emergency personnel, she never took her gaze from his. And when the emergency personnel rolled the stretcher over to where he sat, she offered him a hand up. She was still watching him when they rolled him out of the room.
~*~*~*~*~
Miri had never known Stark to remain silent for so long. After she'd shared that look with Alex, she'd followed him into the darkness. She and her team of agents had their flashlights on, beams cutting through the shadows to seek out any survivors or enemy agents. She was amazed by the amount of devastation she saw. Rooms that had once been someone's offices or quarters were little more than walled in trash heaps. She wondered if they'd even be able to find anyone in the mess or if it was a hopeless cause.
No. She couldn't think that way. They would find survivors. They would find Phil. They had to. It was as simple as that. Because she wasn't going to leave the downed leviathan until she found him and got him out.
Instinct saw her stopping only seconds before she would have walked into Stark's back. He was on point since he had the suit and it was much more advanced than her simple handgun. Not to mention he'd let the team know that this part of the ship was so damaged that it would be better if he went first. Then there was the fact that the sensors on his suit were a thousand times better than anything the medics had.
It was hard to tell with the face plate down, but she thought that Stark was looking at her. She just felt his stare. Most people around S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to think that he wasn't serious about anything and, to hear Phil tell it, the man wasn't capable of any measure of seriousness at all. But Miri knew it for the front it was. Tony Stark was as serious as they came. If not, he'd have never set himself up with his suit and become Iron Man. He'd just spent so many years at playing the irresponsible, jet set bachelor with more money than God that he didn't really show his serious side. People expected a certain level of recklessness from him and he was always willing to give it to them.
Still, she knew the serious side of him. He was using it now, in the face of this tragedy. Because people he knew, friends, had been on the helicarrier. They'd gotten hurt, possibly killed, and the psych profile that Natasha had worked up on him suggested that the one thing that pissed him off fast and easy was seeing someone he cared about in danger. That brought out the seriousness like nothing else.
And he was staring at her with his serious face. How she knew when the face plate of the Iron Man suit was down, she didn't know. But she knew. Another thing she knew was that it was pissing her the fuck off. "What?" she snapped at him, her voice much more curt than she'd intended it to be.
She felt his eyes on her through the windows in the face plate, their weight heavy and unsettling. He was just... looking at her. As if he could see through her. Read deep into her soul. She didn't want to let him know he was getting to her but she hated their creeping along at next to dead pace. Phil needed her... Them. Phil needed them. They weren't going to find him inching along like a slug. They needed to move. "Nothing." The voice was metallic, almost robotic, through all of the machinery and processors and technology of the suit. But she couldn't miss the fact that there was something in his voice.
Before she could ask, he turned away from her. It didn't look like he was doing anything, but a moment later, he shifted his attention to the head of the med unit with them. "I've got two bodies in here. You might want to call for stretchers while I go dig them out." The last was said to Miri before he strode through the doorway into what looked like nothing more than a junk heap.
"Did you hear that, Director Fury?" she asked quietly, eyes scanning the hallway around them. At her signal, one of the junior agents took her position. That allowed her to trail Stark into the room. He might not think he needed someone at his back, but she was still leading and it was still her team. He was getting backup whether he wanted it or not.
"I've got two teams of EMTs with stretchers on their way in now, Agent Grant." Fury's voice sounded pensive. There was a pause, then he spoke again. "You be careful in there and keep me in the loop."
"Yes, sir," she nodded. Her attention was drawn to Stark, who was busy shifting heavy debris around with one hand. As if it weighed nothing more than a slip of paper did. His actions were slow. Deliberate. Efficient. Of course she knew that the man was capable of a great deal when wearing the suit. But this was really the first time she'd ever really seen him in action.
Rotors and engines whirred each time he lifted his arms and shuffled another piece of debris to the side. There was a kind of unearthly grace to his actions, to the methodical lift and toss motion that saw the pile growing smaller. She didn't have to see his face to know that determination rode his every action, directed his every move until he finally moved the last pieces off to reveal the two people that had been buried under it. God, there was so much blood.
The med unit moved in without being called. Tony backed away from the fallen agents without saying a word. Miri followed him. It hurt to be in that room, to see what HYDRA had done to her friends and comrades when there was no way to pay them back. If any had lived through the carrier's crash, they were to be taken prisoner so that they could be interrogated for information. The only thing that made Miri feel any better at all was knowing that Natasha would no doubt want to do the interrogating.
She felt him staring again so she turned to look at him. "Let's go on ahead. They'll be at this for a little while and standing around with nothing to do only makes all of this harder to cope with."
Miri stared at Stark and wondered if he was making the suggestion because he wanted this over and done with or if he knew that each step deeper into the bowels of the ship left her nerves that much rawer. Left her so jittery and nervous that she swore she was going to throw up at any moment. She swore that there was compassion in his eyes, even though she couldn't see them behind the gold face plate. She didn't dare examine that thought too deeply. So she put her mind to the task of considering his suggestion.
To be honest, she was damned tired of this place. There was too much around her. The scent of blood and death was heavy in the air, mingling with the remnants of smoke and fire. She wanted to find their people. She wasn't so selfish that she wanted to leave the living to suffer and die. To leave those that had already died lost in the wreckage without the proper respect due to them. But as much as she wanted those things, she wanted to find Phil more. She wanted to make sure he was still alive with her own two eyes. And, if that wasn't the case, she wanted one last image of him to take with her when she sought out the leaders of HYDRA and slit their throats in their sleep.
"Agreed," she gave a sharp nod of her head, then turned to look back into the room. "Stark and I are going on ahead. I'll be in contact through the comm. Follow after us when you're finished here. Eyes and ears open at all times."
One of her men nodded at her to let her know he'd heard her and understood. She trusted that they'd keep the med unit safe and eventually herd them in the right direction. If Fury had problems with the arrangement, he kept them to himself because the comm line stayed silent. For a second or two, Miri had been afraid that he'd order her to stay put. The fact that he said nothing was a testament to how badly he wanted the survivors off the helicarrier.
They fell into a rhythm after that. Tony would lead the way up the hall, using his sensors to seek out any living bodies buried in the rubble. Miri would stand guard while he used the strength of the suit to dig survivors out so that the med unit could tend to them. Any surviving HYDRA agents were zip tied together for later incarceration and eventual interrogation. When they were sure the med unit could function without them, they would move on.
There were times when Miri was sure that Stark was watching her, simply staring at her through the eye holes on the face plate as if he was trying to see or understand something. It left her feeling slightly unsettled, which said something when she was already having so many difficulties controlling herself. The closer they got to the bridge, the worse her hands shook and the worse her stomach churned.
She was fully prepared to face Phil's corpse. In their line of work, death was almost always and inevitable conclusion. One had to know that such things could happen when one carried a gun. Hadn't she just faced death herself not that long ago? Hadn't her friends been threatened? So she knew that it was possible Phil was dead. But knowing that didn't make accepting it any easier. Because she'd just finally realized that her feelings for him ran a lot deeper than were required for a fuck buddy. So while she was prepared for a corpse, she wasn't prepared for it. Not really.
It was a relief when she heard Alex's voice crackle across the line to let Fury know that they'd located Rogers. Miri let the other woman's words take her mind away from the death and destruction. Even if it only lasted for a scant millisecond, it was worth it. The conversation revealed that they were in the helicarrier's lab and Elsa was there, too. That knowledge settled the knot of tension and anger she'd been carrying deeper in her stomach. Elsa shouldn't have been in the middle of this shit.
Searing, fiery rage shot through her, saw her unconsciously curling her fingers so tightly around the gun in her hand that the grip actually bit into her flesh. She only flexed her hand when she realized that squeezing any tighter would likely result in broken fingers. Maybe she'd volunteer to "interrogate" some of the prisoners herself. That might feel damned good after seeing every last bit of damage they'd done.
More rooms. More survivors. More bodies. It was never ending and it left her with a hole where her heart was supposed to be. There would be so many funerals to attend. So many people to mourn. There was so much death. So much loss. And all of it was senseless. God, HYDRA needed to pay for this. They needed to pay for every single body that was pulled out of the wreckage. She'd be happy to be the one to make them pay, too.
Miri stopped and forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. Her thoughts were going too fast, were too far out of control. She had to bring herself under control or she'd end up doing something horrible. She was so filled with rage that she couldn't see straight anymore. More than once, Stark had asked her if she was okay. And she was starting to think that she'd have a permanent imprint of her gun's grip on her palm from gripping the weapon so tightly and frequently.
It seemed an age before they finally stepped into the last hallway before they hit the bridge. She was beginning to see that Stark hadn't been kidding about the damage. The walls here, solid sheets of metal, were buckled and crinkled as if they were made of nothing more than tissue paper. It was a miracle that this part of the ship was still open enough to reach. Her heart seized as she considered what that meant.
Even though she knew that the bridge wasn't located immediately in the nose, it was still near enough to the very front of the carrier that it wouldn't have escaped damage. She shuddered. If the halls here were any indication, the destruction had to be absolute. That meant... She stopped dead in her tracks for a second as her mind sorted out just what that meant. If the bridge had suffered damage the way these halls had, anyone who had been on it at the time of impact would likely have not survived.
She couldn't help herself. She pushed past Stark and made her way up the hall toward the door that opened into the bridge. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Agent Grant? This area of the helicarrier isn't safe!" Stark's electronic voice called after her.
She ignored him, moved closer and closer to the door. Determination, the need to know, filled her until she was almost choking on them. She said a prayer, a silent one in her head that she'd gotten from Alex a long time ago, then took hold of the door's handle. It turned halfway then stopped. Locked. She muttered a curse under her breath and put her weight against it, shoving hard with her shoulder, but the door wouldn't budge.
Frustration drew a sharp, terse swear word from her throat and she tried once again to shove the door open. By then, Tony had joined her and was trying to pull her away from the door without actually hurting her. She whirled on him and glared up into the face plate. "Would you let me go?" she snarled at him.
"This part of the carrier is extremely unstable. If you were to get that door open, there's no telling what kind of damage its going to do. You could bring this whole section down on top of our heads."
"Agent Coulson is in there. I am getting him out, no matter what the cost."
"Even if that cost is you getting killed?" he asked quietly.
"I'm getting him out." She made sure to say each word slowly and succinctly, so that he'd know she was serious. He only stared back at her. She took his silence for agreement. "Since you're the resident fucking engineering genius, figure out a way to get in there without bringing the whole thing down. And do it now."
She thought that Stark would balk at her blatant order. But he didn't. He simply turned to study the wall, then took hold of her arm and pulled her back. "Stay behind me until I'm finished. And you might want to cover your eyes for a second or two."
Miri didn't argue. She stepped back, giving him a few good feet to work, then aimed one of his arms at the wall. She didn't get to see what he did because she put her arm up over her face the moment an extremely bright light hit her eyes. But she heard what sounded like a torch as it cut through the metal bulkhead. She didn't look again until the noise cut off.
The metal was red hot where Stark had cut through it, though the panel was still standing. Miri looked up at him to find that he was staring at her again. She was getting tired of that shit. Propping her fists on her hips, she glared back at him. "What the fuck is your problem? What are you staring at?"
He ignored her question. "How do you want to do this?"
Hefting her Glock, she stepped forward. If he was going to play this cool, so was she. "I'm going in first. Are you getting any readings from inside?"
"I scanned earlier. I got something faint but... I can't tell you if its Coulson or not." She heard regret in the electronic voice. Nodding, she stepped up to the new door Stark had cut for them. A glance at him saw him reaching out to give the heavy metal a push.
The make shift door creaked ever so slightly, then slowly toppled to the ground. The sound of the metal hitting the floor was loud. But it wasn't metallic. It was more a dull, crunchy sound. She chose not to think of why that would be and stepped past him into the bridge.
Bodies were strewn everywhere. There were some that she knew belonged to S.H.I.E.L.D. agents but most of them were HYDRA's people. What had once been a large, spacious bridge was now little more than a pile of wreckage and debris. The instrument panels were smashed and shattered glass crunched under her feet as she walked. The room smelled heavily of gun powder and blood. And the stench of shit and piss. She wanted to gag, but she was stronger than that. She'd seen worse than this.
"Over there. Near the wall." A red, metal clad arm pointed past her head while Tony's altered voice spoke from just behind her. Miri nodded to let him know she'd heard, then started forward. She said that prayer again and hoped like hell that someone was listening. The floor was so covered with debris and corpses that she had to watch where she was stepping. It took a lot longer to get to the hidden spot that Tony had indicated.
When she did, when she saw what some random chunk of equipment hid, every inch of her body went numb. The hold she had on her gun went lax and it slipped absently from limp fingers. She never heard the metallic clang of it hitting the ground. All she could hear was her heart pounding in her chest and the rushing of blood in her ears.
"Oh, God," she groaned softly, started forward and might have fallen if not for Tony's hand on her arm. "Oh, God. Phil."
~*~*~*~*~
The entire area was lit by brilliant white lights that shone upon the downed ship so that every line and crease could be seen by the naked eye. There were so many people there, too. They milled in small and large groups on either side, apparently waiting for something. He recognized their healers, saw the flashing lights of their peace keepers. Trees had been ripped from the ground and leveled, while clods of dirt had been thrown up in large pieces. Parts of the ship lay scattered around its still body, torn off and thrown clear when the thing had come down.
Guilt tore through him. He was supposed to have prevented this. And he could have, had it not been for his brother. Part of him wondered if he should have left Astrid's rescue for after the battle. The other part of him knew that Loki would never have allowed such a thing to happen. He would have lured Thor to his castle with threats of violence against the mortal woman who held his brother's heart. Either way, Thor was meant to miss the battle and, thusly, miss saving his friends and allies.
He spied a familiar figure in black, standing apart from everyone else. Director Fury. It was his duty to report to the man. He was supposed to have helped protect the man's air ship and he'd failed in his job, If Fury wanted to remove him from his position, it was the man's right. Thor brought himself down next to the solitary leader and waited.
At first, he didn't think that Director Fury had seen him. The man remained silent and kept staring at the ship. Thor considered saying something and made a move to do just that. But Fury turned and fixed that single eye upon him, freezing Thor where he stood. "And just where the hell have you been?"
"My brother was involved in this. I went after him."
"And left your team behind." There wasn't an ounce of emotion in the man's voice. Thor had learned many things in his time here on Midgard with the mortals. The most important thing was that when Director Fury showed no emotion at all, someone was in very deep trouble. He had seen this first hand with Tony more than once. This time, Thor was the one who was in trouble.
"Loki had Astrid. I feared her would harm her."
"So you left your team behind." It was a statement of fact, not a question. Thor found himself nodding his head anyway. Fury sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, then pinned Thor with "the Look." Thor wasn't afraid of many men, but that look always left him unsettled. "I've got good people in there right now, seeking out your team and the rest of the people you left behind to chase after your brother. So far, they've brought out more than a dozen survivors."
"Survivors are good," Thor said helpfully.
"There were hundreds of people on board the helicarrier. You could have saved them if you'd remained with it. But you left. And now I'm going to have to notify hundreds of families about their loved ones' senseless deaths."
Hundreds dead? Thor felt his temper spike. As ever where his brother was concerned, this had been little more than a game. Something to amuse Loki in a fit of boredom. And an excellent way to hurt Thor. He would avenge their deaths, if it took him the rest of his life. Loki would pay for what he'd done here. Thor's grip on Mjolnir tightened.
"I want your big blonde ass in there right now, backing up one of my teams," he ordered. "Agent Quinn, I'm sending in more help. Thor has just arrived and he's going to be helping you out."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't need the help." The woman's voice carried over a small device in the man's ear. Thor heard her clearly enough. There was tension in her words that suggested she wasn't happy with her task or the unwanted help.
"Did I ask you what you wanted, Agent Quinn?"
"No, sir."
"I'm sending him to you now. From now on, let him do the heavy lifting."
"Yes, sir."
Fury motioned a harried looking young man over. "Take Thor in to Agent Quinn's location."
"Yes, sir," the man nodded and started toward the downed ship. Fury just stared at Thor until he turned and followed after the other man. As the two of them stepped into the darkness of the ship's belly, he made a promise to himself and to those who had been left injured or dead in the wake of his departure that he would make his brother pay for this.
~*~*~*~*~
Tony watched as the gun dropped from Grant's hand, forgotten as she stared at whatever lay behind the piece of equipment. The weapon didn't go off and he might have taken her to task on her carelessness, but the look on her face stopped him. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Phil."
There was such anguish in her voice. So much pain. Tony closed the distance between them so that he could see what she was looking at. His stomach turned. Coulson was sprawled lifelessly against the wall, head tipped to the side to expose a gash at his temple that bled heavily. Not that every other wound he'd sustained wasn't doing the same, albeit a little sluggishly. The man's face was a mask of blood and his hair was caked in it. His suit was torn and ripped, spots of dirt mingling with more blood. There were bits of glass everywhere, pieces of shredded metal. It was hard to really determine what kind of injuries the man had sustained because he looked like one giant injury.
"I need the med unit in here now. We found Agent Coulson and he needs immediate medical assistance," Tony ordered, not caring who responded. Just so long as they got there fast. The sensors on his suit said Coulson was alive, but it was a close thing. Surprisingly, though, that wasn't his main concern. Instead, he turned his full attention to the woman at his side. She was about to fall over. "Jarvis, cut off the comm signal so that our conversation is private."
"Yes, sir," the computer replied. A second later, the AI spoke again. "Comm unit is jammed, sir. You have complete privacy."
"Thank you, Jarvis." Reaching out, Tony took hold of her arm and turned to steer her toward a corner where there was little debris. "Come on. You need to sit down."
It was a testament to how shaken Agent Grant was that she simply let him lead her away. He scooped up a chair on the walk over and set it in the corner, then urged her down into it. After popping the face plate on the suit, he stared down at her and shook his head. "You might want to try and pull it together before the med team gets here. If they see you like this..." he trailed off when she looked up at him. "You want word to get around that you're in love with him?"
Grant opened her mouth, probably to snap at him that she wasn't in love with Agent Phil Coulson, but Tony could see the signs. He'd been putting the puzzle together for a while now and her reactions here on the helicarrier were the final, missing piece that gave him the whole picture. "Don't deny it. The cover was too good, kid. Nobody's that professional all the time. Not even him."
He watched as her eyes darted back to the still figure on the floor. "I should have told him," she whispered.
"Coulson's pretty damned sharp. He probably knows. But that doesn't change the fact that a whole team of medical personnel are about to come in here. If they see you like this, they're going to assume you're in shock. And then they're going to swarm around you and try to treat you. Is that what you want?"
She thought about it for a minute before shaking her head at him. "No. No one is supposed to know about us."
"Then you need to pull it together. There will be time enough to fall apart later. When you're all alone."
She looked up at him, eyes huge. He could see that she was processing his words, that she was slowly pulling herself back together. Gradually, the glassy-eyed look she'd been giving him receded until she was once more Miriam Grant, calm and cool and poised S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Finally, she was once again wrapped up in her agent persona. "Thank you, Mr. Stark," she said quietly. He thought about calling her on the Mr. Stark thing, but decided that now wasn't the time. Instead, he nodded and stepped back.
She rose from her seat and crossed the room on much steadier feet than before. He watched as she retrieved her weapon and holstered it, then carefully picked her way back to Coulson's side. For a moment, it looked as if she wanted to kneel down and touch him, one hand fisting at her side. But she didn't move. "What kind of vitals does he have?" she asked quietly.
Tony told her the truth. There was no reason to lie to her. Lying would do her any favors in the long run. "Respiration is shallow. Pulse is weak and thready. He's hanging on by a thread."
"There's a chance he can pull through this?"
"I can't say," Tony told her, then sighed. "I'm not a doctor. I don't know anything about his survival chances. Only a medical doctor can tell you that for sure. But I do know that the sooner we get him help, the better his odds are."
"You're right," she nodded her head.
"Jarvis, restore the comm link now," Tony ordered the AI.
"Done, sir," the computer's voice reported only a moment later.
"Director Fury, I need a stretcher in here immediately. Agent Coulson is in dire need of medical assistance," she spoke into her comm. Tony noticed that she didn't take her eyes off of Coulson. "Stark says his vitals are extremely low. We're going to need a chopper to lift him straight to the hospital."
"Stretcher's on its way in, Grant. Chopper is standing by." Fury's voice paused a moment. When it came again, Tony swore he could hear a faint hint of relief in it. "Good job, Grant. As soon as Coulson is on the stretcher, I want your ass out of there."
~*~*~*~*~
The room was large and contained many platforms and walkways that stretched over his head. It also contained many bodies. Some were associated with S.H.I.E.L.D. while others belonged to the people who had attacked the air ship. Thor watched the young woman leading the team move from one body to the next, checking for signs of life. So far, she had found none.
Thor had been observing the woman work, noting the efficient way she moved from one body to the next, gun drawn and pointed at the felled foes in case one of them was merely playing dead. She'd systematically inspected every one, using her fingers to look for a pulse while her hands had searched for any other evidence. She was good at her tasks, but her attention to detail was starting to slip. Thor had noticed, with the last few bodies, that she'd come away distracted and slightly confused. He couldn't understand why this might be.
"Fan out. Search for any survivors," she ordered her team tersely. Then she lifted her head and began searching the walkways above their heads for... something.
He saw it when her gaze froze, as did her entire being. Thor let his eyes seek out what it was she was looking at and found that she stared at a bow, caught on the railing of one of the catwalks. It hung there, silent and still. And it obviously meant something to her.
"Agent Quinn? I think we've got a survivor," one voice called from the other side of the room. The woman hurried toward the speaker and Thor followed. They arrived to find one of the young agents holding a gun on one of the enemy agents. The man was giving a grimace of pain, a wound in his shoulder leaking blood.
"Bind his hands. Make sure he has no weapons. The med team can get to him once we've ascertained none of our people are in need of their assistance," she replied curtly. "Make sure the zip tie is good and tight."
"Yes, ma'am," the agent nodded and reached for one of the zip tie things she'd referred to. Seeing that the man was doing as he'd been ordered, the woman turned away and began to make her way back to the spot she'd been in before being called over to the enemy agent's side. Thor decided to go with her, curious to see what she would do next. Her more recent actions seemed incongruous with those from only a few minutes ago. Something was bothering her.
She stopped next to a body with an arrow embedded in its skull, the feathers that made up the fletching black as night. One of her hands reached out to lightly graze the arrow, then she spun on her heel and once more gave her attention to the walkway overhead. "Something troubles you, Agent Quinn?" Thor asked her quietly. She only shot him a look, then began walking away from him.
Her feet almost went out from under her when she stepped in a wide streak of red. Thor reached out and steadied her, letting go of her arm when she pulled away from him. At first, he thought she would chastise him for helping, but then he noticed that her eyes were following a wide trail of blood as it crossed the floor. The trail ended at a closed door. Without saying a word, she ran to the door and pulled it open.
Someone fell at her feet.
"I need a stretcher in here, stat! I've located Hawkeye, sir. He looks seriously wounded," she reported even as she knelt and carefully pressed her fingers against the man's throat. "Yes, sir. He's alive, but it looks like he's bleeding heavily. Yes, sir." She paused and looked up. "Where the fuck is my med unit? You sons of bitches get in here and take care of him now!"
The room burst into a flurry of action. Thor found it interesting to watch the medical people go about their business and he was so enrapt with what they were doing that he almost missed Agent Quinn moving off by herself. There was purpose in her stride, and intent. And Thor could see that she carried a weapon in her hand. He pulled away from the group that had gathered around the archer and followed her.
He caught up with her in time to find her standing over the captured agent. The man was still giving them his smiling grimace, his hands bound tightly together before him. She had her weapon pointed at his head. "Die, you mother fucking cock sucker."
The echo of the gun shot was loud as it rang through the air. And Thor found himself too late to stop her.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-03 06:49 am (UTC)It's a damned good thing I don't bite my nails or I'd have nothing left! I was anxiously awaiting this chapter (I confess, lol) and the anticipation was deemed worthwhile to the nth! Super job, sweetie! So much action and emotion...(shit, is it insane for me to say I cried reading about Steve and Elsa?? LOLOL. I need my meds upped I think. ;D) )
LOVE it!!!
And oh man...Alex and Miri finding Phil and Clint...holy crap...'dem bitches are not ones to mess around wit'! :D) Thor's return on the scene was great, too...Fury reading him the riot act. Yep, lots of shit hitting the fan!
Bang, bang, bang...nonstop plot movement and action and...just...*squees in delight* I'm SOOOOOO stoked! Damn, I love this Universe and I'm dreading the end of this story...LOLOL. :D)
Awesome freaking job, babe!!!! Just...awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-03 07:14 am (UTC)i didn't think it was that actiony or anything. but i guess that's just me. and yes. its probably a good thing you don't chew your nails. (no, it isn't insane. i'm glad i evoked that powerful a response.)
i'm glad you enjoyed.
yes. Alex and Miri are not going to stand for that kind of crap. they will get their moment. Fury would totally read Thor the riot act, bb. totally.
the universe is forever. we can play with it for as long as we like. the story never has to end.
seriously. glad you enjoyed.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-03 07:44 am (UTC)OH MY GOD WOMAN! Do you have any idea what you're doing to me here? lol JFC Miri, way to tip your hand... no, wait... way to FLASH YOUR HAND TO EVERYONE WITHIN EAR SHOT! *facepalm* I love the use of Rule #1, btw. That worked out beautifully!
Aww... Steve probably saved Elsa's life! I love that even in his fog, he's still so ready to help in any possible way. So very very Steve! And Alex giving him shit was lovely!
Miri's tension level... girl, you're going to give me a stroke with that! lol And Tony needs to stop being so smart. Right now. I love the "cover was too good" conversation and it'd be very cool if they continued that later at some point. Poor thing... she's not going to hold together long, I fear.
Thor... I have two words for Thor at this point and neither are very nice. :| I hope he feels guilty and horrible forever. But I may be biased. I do like his assessment of Alex once inside, and I get the feeling that Fury's got WAY more dressing down to do there eventually.
Great work, hun. Seriously you've done a wonderful job with a mess of a situation here. I can't wait to see what's next!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-03 07:59 am (UTC)well, i would imagine that i'm doing it all right if you're having these moments. yeah. the girls are in fine form. Alex is totally not searching the crowd for Clint and Miri is totally not thinking about Phil. and i really love Rule #1. Alex might have to adopt that with Clint after this.
yes. i figure Steve saved Elsa's life. him and the shield. and i totally love Alex giving Steve shit. totally.
Miri will definitely fall apart soon. you know its coming. i think she did a good job of holding it together as long as she did. Tony is far too smart for his own good. and yes. maybe they should continue that conversation later.
i'm sure Thor's going to be feeling bad for a long time to come. yeah. i liked the fact that he could see something was up, even if he wasn't sure what it was. i'm sure Fury's got a lot more dressing down to do. hmmm. that does give me bunnies.
i'm glad you enjoyed it, bb. seriously.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-03 09:23 pm (UTC)I've caught up on things now, and yes, I admit that I skimmed a (very) few places, but you can blame that on my current headspace, which you know is total crap, so please don't take it personally.
Love that Thor went after Astrid to save her from Loki, but hate the resulting death toll of good guys. *sigh* Choices, choices - the most difficult ones have the highest price. I agree that Fury will likely be throwing more shit at the fan over this.
Glad that Steve and Elsa were together at crash-time, and that he probably saved her life with his shield. And that he dislocated his shoulder trying to get her out of the original mess, and didn't care that he had hurt himself. He is sooo head over heels for her, it's really quite adorable.
Love that Alex and Miri each found their man - though they're both in very rough shape . . . but I trust that we will be getting to happy endings at some point in the near future. ;) Miri's emotional reactions were great, and Tony's radio silence so he could pull her together was really sweet of him - he so dislikes for anyone to know that he's really a softie type good guy underneath the playboy ne'er-do-well.
Now all we need is to find out what happened to Phoebe and her boys - and whether she still has two *sniff*. I'd offer bribes to encourage a speedy installment, but I'd rather have quality over swiftness. (and i don't have any worthy bribe material *sigh*)
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-03 10:27 pm (UTC)no worries about skimming. the story will be here for a good long while so you can always go back and reread at your leisure. i don't mind at all.
yes. decisions. something like that is never an easy one to make at all. and now he has to live with the consequences of his action. many good people are dead because of the choice he made, and many more hurt. no doubt Fury hasn't had his last say on this one.
Steve and Elsa are so wonderfully sweet together that it makes one's teeth ache. and he's got it for her so bad, it isn't even funny.
yes. Alex and Miri each found their men. hard to come out of that crash without some kind of injury and since neither one of them has Steve's healing abilities or Thor's imperviousness, they got beat up pretty bad. have no fear that happy endings will eventually pop up. but there is still much more violence to come before that can happen. i honestly see Tony having great depth. its just easier to not show it because then people would expect it of him all the time.
have no fear. you will discover the fate of Phoebe and her boys soon enough. i'm already in the works with the next chapter and that should, hopefully, answer those questions.
thanks for reading, hon. i'm glad you enjoyed.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-04 03:51 am (UTC)And Thor...*shakes head* I wonder if Fury's scolding hits him like his father's would?
Good work. Great work. Fantastic work. I can't wait to see what happens next. Another edge-of-my seat read. Not for non-stop action this time. But because I'm totally invested in the story and the characters. Would bribes help the creative process? I'm sure we could work something out...
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-04 04:40 am (UTC)Thor is probably in much deeper trouble than he realizes. Papa Fury is not done with him yet.
i'm glad you enjoyed. there's still more tension to come. i'm working on the next chapter as we speak, so bribes might not be necessary. but we can always talk about it...