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capkink2014-02-11 08:29 pm
capkinkmod) wrote in capkink2014-02-11 08:29 pm
Prompt Post 1
Remember to title your comments, use appropriate warnings (or "choose not to warn"), and be civil. Embeds are not allowed.
At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
As of May 3, 2014, the spoiler policy is no longer in effect.
Update, April 22, 2014:
For fills, please use the following format:
Fill: Title
Including the pairing, warnings/CNTW, and any other information after the fill and title in the subject line or in the first line of the comment.
Links:
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Fills
Discussion
Delicious Archive
At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.
As of May 3, 2014, the spoiler policy is no longer in effect.
Update, April 22, 2014:
For fills, please use the following format:
Fill: Title
Including the pairing, warnings/CNTW, and any other information after the fill and title in the subject line or in the first line of the comment.
Links:
Page A Mod
Fills
Discussion
Delicious Archive
Fill: Голубка [My Dove] {3B}
The Soldier snuck his way into Nick Fury's base. He found himself standing over the man, who was fast asleep, with a knife in his hand and his face pinched in thought. He could end it here, complete his mission now as ordered and return back to the facility, return to the machine and his chair and let them put him back into the freeze. He could do all this after weeks of work, weeks of surveillance and weeks of watching the man in blue—Steve, of watching Steve because that is the name he'd been thinking of but not thinking of.
He held the knife, a thin, long, butterfly thing loosely in his left. His gaze remained focused on that slumbering face, Agent Hill unconscious with a sedative carefully slipped into her drink just down the hall. He'd made it special about a week and a half ago, intending to give it to Наталия, sneak it into her drink or food and then pull whatever answers he wanted from her, because he knows her in a way he can't describe. He can see her face when he closes his eyes, smiling, younger.
She spoke Русский to him, in a familiar cadence, the first person ever to do so since the technician who woke him up for that mission on the Lumarian Star. She was the first person not to demand English out of him when he didn't want to give it.
The Soldier backed away, slipping the knife into his belt. There was something, something about knowing Романова, Наталья Аляовна that brought to mind the familiarity of Steve. If he knew her, then could the Soldier have known him? But no, the memories there are indistinct, further back than the days of Наталья and so the Soldier pursed his lips, turned around, and pulled up the laptop that Agent Hill had been looking over before she fell asleep.
This would be the third night he'd snuck in here, slipped a drug into Agent Hill's food, and struggled against completing his mission. He struggled because he knew he wasn't fully repaired. His leg still throbbed something fierce, he still wore the brace, the splint to keep it firmly stiff, but he could place more and more pressure on it day after day. He struggled because he wanted that fight, the one he told Steve about. He wanted to feel that fire at least one last time before he completed the mission and forgot all over again.
With a single minded focus the Solider clacked on the keys, bypassing Agent Hill's required password by inputing one of HYDRA's instead. He focused on hunting down the planned mission for Steve and Наталья because of course another mission would come up soon enough. Fury wanted HYDRA out of SHIELD but the Soldier didn't think that was possible. HYDRA by this point was SHIELD only SHIELD didn't know it yet.
Once he pulled the destination and appropriate mission details the Soldier logged into HYDRA's network, a pocket of coded information within SHIELD's network. He used Rumlow's passcode and logon information. They were the same as his SHIELD passcode and logon information which the Soldier could access easily from Agent Hill's computer with a few key strokes and a simple command.
The Soldier bit his lip, scrolled through Rumlow's missions, searching. Assured that he knew all the details he could gather at this point, he quickly backtracked out and promptly erased what he'd just done from Agent Hill's computer memory. The Soldier slipped the computer back into place, double checked that Agent Hill was still breathing, and then slipped out of Fury's bunker as quiet as he came in.
Steve and Natasha blew past the front gate. Steve already had his Shield off of his back and tossed it at gate guard, knocking him out instantly. Natasha pulled out a gun that Phil had given her known as an ICER. She fired off two quick shots at the nearest outer security as Steve caught his Shield. They both skidded to a halt right before the building proper. Steve kicked down the kickstand for the bike and cut the engine.
“You ready for this?” Natasha asked, slipping off her own bike and pulling out a second gun. She double checked its ammunition before glancing back at Steve with a grin.
“There seem to be more of them this time,” Steve said, glancing at the amount of agents gathering in the foyer. “And they don't look happy to see us.”
“I wonder why,” she said with a laugh. Steve rolled his eyes, they shared a look, and then Natasha fired off two ICER rounds into the window as Steve bull rushed the other, shield held out protectively against the spray of glass.
They worked in tandem despite the fact that the agents inside began to fire live rounds at them. Natasha fought back with ICER, ducking in and delivering elbows and quick palm thrusts when that didn't work. Steve whacked agents with his Shield, ducked behind it to deflect bullets before quickly punching one after another out. They moved fast, breaking through the group who'd gathered to stop them.
It ended only when the last agent lay unconscious and Natasha and Steve surrounded by nothing more than bodies. Steve bent down to look at one, Natasha stepping over to him as she calmly replaced the ICER rounds in her guns.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Steve frowned, staring at the Agent's collar. “I don't know,” he said. “Look at this.”
Natasha knelt down to look at what had caught Steve's attention. “It's just a pin,” she said, calmly, although her brow furrowed.
“Since when has SHIELD handed out pins?” Steve questioned. Natasha pursed her lips, but got to her feet.
“We'll look into that later, big boy. Right now we have a job to do,” she told him, and reluctantly Steve likewise got to his feet. “I take left you take right?”
Steve rolled his shoulders. “First one to the central processing room wins?” he countered. Natasha grinned.
“Deal,” she said, somewhat pleased that Steve would play with her like this. “Go!”
They both darted up the separate set of stairs. With precision Steve and Natasha checked each room they came across, working through floor after floor, knocking out any stray agents they came across as they did so. They had to be thorough, otherwise the entire mission could be jeopardized. Towards the end of the last hall, leading to the room both Natasha and Steve were after, Steve bounced across the walls, dodging desks and plants ready to knock down the single agent on his end with a quick punch to the face before the other could even realize what happened. Across from him Natasha came to a stop with a roundhouse against another agents face.
They exchanged a look and darted for the glass door to the room. Natasha beat him by half a second and shot him a victorious grin. She arched an eyebrow at him and Steve sighed.
“Alright,” he said with raised hands. “You win. Same as last time?” His tone was filled with fond exasperation, especially when she smirked so utterly pleased with herself.
“You better have it ready when we get back,” she told him as she turned around and began fiddling with the keyboard. Steve pulled out a thumb drive and plugged it in the slot next to her.
“I'll pick it up on my way,” Steve said with a shake of his head. He looked up at the screen, leaning against the desk that Natasha chose to work at, legs and arms crossed. “What have we got?”
Natasha pursed her lips, browsing through files as quick as she could while she copied them over. “It looks like just more SHIELD intel, nothing HYDRA related so far.” Steve hummed in understanding and looked around for a pad and pen.
“Same story as last time then?” he asked, moving to root through one of the drawers, and then another when he didn't find anything there.
“Yeah,” Natasha said, distracted. Some of this intel was deep, high level and shouldn't be held on servers outside the Triskelion or the Hub. Her brow furrowed as she licked her lips. Two computers down Steve let out a triumphant sound in the back of his throat having found the pen and pad he was looking for.
Fill: Голубка [My Dove] {3C}
Steve scribbled a note, using blocky all capital letters to be certain it was legible by one who found it, and calmly stuck the note to one of the computer screens.
YOU'VE JUST PARTICIPATED IN A SURPRISE SECURITY TEST
AND FAILED. CLEAN UP THE SECURITY GUYS OR YOU'LL
HAVE MORE TO WORRY ABOUT THAN THE BLACK
WIDOWS BITE AND A SUPER SOLDIER HEADACHE!
CAPTAIN AMERICA & BLACK WIDOW
“Done writing your love note?” Natasha asked calmly.
“The security on this place wasn't too bad,” Steve pointed out, assured that the note would remain in place. “Better than the other three, at least, but they could do use some work.”
Natasha smirked and murmured low enough for Steve, “Why not fix security holes while stealing data.”
“Right up Fury's ally,” Steve snorted.
“Возможно, вы захотите торопиться, Наталья.” The Soldier slipped in through an exit door, then dodged almost immediately as he spoke. The bullet Natasha fired hit the wall. “Reinforcements,” he added in English, and then, “Ваши навыки ржавый.”
“Заткнись,” Natasha shot back as Steve tensed, grasping his Shield tightly between his fingers. The Soldier proceeded to ignore Natasha in favor of focusing on Steve.
“Голубка,” the Soldier said as greeting. This brought Natasha to a stop, glancing between the Soldier and Steve before she let out a snort and went right back to focusing. “I am not here to fight,” the Soldier continued, ignoring Natasha aside from a furrowed brow of confusion.
“Yeah,” Steve said slowly, “you just show up right when supposed reinforcements arrive?”
The Soldier raised his arms and tilted his head. He had a smile across his lips under his mask. “I was already here. Watching you.”
“Ты ведешь себя жутко,” Natasha warned, but her lips twitched in faint amusement. The Soldier ignored her, even when Steve gave him an odd sort of look.
“You've been watching me?” he said, his voice lilting upward in shock and surprise.
“Is that a bad thing?” the Soldier asked, glancing to Natasha.
“Жуткий,” Natasha reiterated as Steve said, “Yes!” His voice pitched upward.
The Soldier furrowed his brow, licked his lips, and said, “But you...” then switched to Russian. “Вы захватывает дух, когда вы боретесь.” His voice pitched downward, and there was a look to his eyes that gave Steve pause. Steve glanced to Natasha.
“Translation?” he asked. The Soldier smiled beneath his mask.
“He likes watching you fight,” Natasha said calmly, yanking out the drive from the computer. “I've got everything. We should go.” As soon as she said anything the Soldier, resting against the main screen at the back of the wall, quickly pulled out a gun from his leg holster and fired behind them. Steve whipped around in time to see someone armored fall down, dead.
“Shit,” Steve cursed, ducking down beneath the top of the desks with Natasha. The Soldier vaulted two rows and landed next to them just as more armored men arrived and opened fire.
“I told you,” he said. “Reinforcements.”
Steve gripped his shield tight and glanced up, trying to catch sight of how many there were. He counted ten before they started firing again.
“Ten plus,” he said sharply. The Soldier eyed Steve for a moment, before he reached up behind his back and crept over to one edge of the desk. Steve caught sight of a silver ball in the Soldier's hands before he rolled it towards the armored men.
“What are you--” Steve said and next he knew there was an explosion that caused him to rock forward and pull his shield up to protect against shattered debris and then the Soldier was right there, in front of him, metal arm grasping Steve by the bicep.
“This way,” he said sharply, and pulled Steve out towards the exit door he entered in by before the men with guns could respond. Natasha raced after them, crouched low to the ground. Steve caught sight of mangled bodies and fire and smoke before they were out in the fresh air.
Natasha burst after them, and they had a moment to catch their breaths. She was the first to notice it, the way Steve's brow furrowed and his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. She snapped out a quick, “Freak out later, Rogers.”
“But they could have been SHIELD,” Steve snapped.
The Soldier was staring down over the railing at random intervals as he replied, “They're not.”
“How do you know--” Steve started.
“This way,” the Soldier interrupted, vaulting over the railing. Natasha gave Steve an exasperated look and tugged on his arm.
“Come on, Captain,” she said. “Let's go before more show up.” She followed after the Soldier, and with a curse when he heard voices Steve followed.
They landed on top of a dumpster, Natasha rolling off and Steve using the lid to bounce before he landed on the cement. The Soldier was already flush against the wall, peering around the corner towards the back of the building. He motioned for them to follow as he slipped around the edge, hugging the side of the building in the way that Steve could remember his Commando's doing back in Nazi Germany as they hunted down HYDRA bases.
The Soldier remained flush to the wall as they neared another corner, he peered around it and then pulled back and made a simple hand gesture of two and jerked his head toward the corner. Without a word he slipped back, allowing Steve to pull up to the corner and peer around the edge with Natasha crouched at his feet. They shared a look and Steve calmly removed his Shield from his back where he'd slipped it into place subconsciously. A quick nod between them and Steve darted out, Natasha quickly firing her ICER's as Steve tossed his Shield.
The Soldier remained behind, his firearm at the ready as he kept an eye on the battle. When one of the enemy fighters crept up on Steve's blindside he fired off on quick killshot. Steve glanced back at him in surprise before twisting to dodge a strike and delivering a solid punch to the idiot who tried to grab him while distracted. The Soldier smiled beneath his mask again, and assured that there were no more agents made his way over to Steve and Natasha who were staring at their bikes in confusion.
“Didn't we park out front?” Steve asked.
“I moved them when I noticed the incoming reinforcements,” the Soldier said. “Take the road there and you should get away without anyone noticing.” He motioned towards a little back path that was half overgrown by plant life.
Steve looked to the Solider, surprised. “Thanks. What about you?”
“My ride is a mile north of here,” the Soldier said. “Go, before you're made.”
Steve looked back at him, then nodded his thanks. Both he and Natasha got onto their bikes and the Soldier watched them leave until they were out of sight. Assured that they were gone he quickly dragged the two corpses as close to the building as he could get. Then he pulled out a knife and with narrowed eyes fished his bullet out of the skull of the one man he shot.
The Soldier licked his lips, stared at the bloodied slug, before he slipped it into his pocket. He glanced down at the mangled face of the HYDRA agent and, in a random lack of impulse control, pulled off his mask and spat on the dead man's face. He slipped his mask back in place and, as quickly and as stealthily as he could, made a break for the treeline where he pulled a remote from his back pocket and pressed down.
The building went up on flames, the earth shook, and the Soldier watched it burn for all of a minute before he turned and left.
(Part D of CH3 to come soon, working on it now)
Re: Fill: Голубка [My Dove] {3C}
*swoons*
Re: Fill: Голубка [My Dove] {3C}
Fill: Голубка [My Dove] {3D}
Natasha and Steve returned to the not-SHIELD base both tired. Steve, more than Natasha, was confused about events but that mostly could be tied to Natasha's fluidity in the face of an ever changing situation. Steve didn't know what to make of it, to make of the Winter Soldier. He tugged off his helmet as they parked the motorbikes and scrubbed his hand through his hair.
“Try not to think about it too much,” Natasha said, placing a hand on Steve's arm. He looked to her, pursed his lips.
“They could have been SHIELD,” he pointed out. Natasha shrugged.
“He's an assassin, a killer,” she explained. “If Fury didn't specify me to use these ICER's how many potential SHIELD agents wound be dead from my hands alone? He doesn't have tech like this because his job is to kill, not save.”
Steve looked down. “And yet he got us out of there. He had a plan in play.”
Natasha sighed, closed her eyes. “He likes you,” she said. “I don't know if that's good or bad, but he likes you Rogers. Why look that gift horse in the mouth?”
Steve looked down at her, and shook his head. “Natasha...”
“The Winter Soldier is a ghost story, a myth, a killer and a murderer,” Natasha told him carefully. “He's not human to those who know and believe in him, but to you. For you. He acts more human than, than I could even imagine.”
Steve bit his lip. “All those deaths could have been prevented though,” Steve pointed out. Natasha closed her eyes.
“If it bothers you that much,” Natasha said, “then you might be in the wrong business.”
Steve frowned, slipped off of the bike, and headed inside. Did it bother him? The idea that they were SHIELD, could have been SHIELD, bothered him yes. Steve didn't want to kill innocents, and any of those men could have been innocent. Did killing bother him? Always. Even in the War he'd felt squeamish and sick, but he did what he had to to save lives.
“I've had enough of death for a lifetime,” he said to Natasha, finally, as they stepped past the door. “I want to avoid it, as much as I can.”
“You can't avoid it forever,” Natasha said. “People die, especially in this line of work.” She slipped past him, turned around, and gave him a smile. “Besides, it's kind of cute.”
“What?” Steve blinked.
Natasha smiled, secretively, and turned around.
“Natasha what does that mean?” Steve demanded, but she raced ahead with a faint laugh. “Natasha!” Steve darted after her.
The Soldier crouched low on the fire escape just outside Steve's apartment. He'd stood there, face pressed to the glass the first time he'd visited. He peered inside, curious to spite himself, at how the man in blue lived. It looked spartan, felt spartan even. Once, and only once, the Soldier had snuck inside and rifled through all the things that lay there.
That was until he found the canvas, the sketchbooks. He'd stared at the painting half-finished and swallowed hard, fingers carefully not quite touching the image. His eyes were wide and he'd felt the stirrings of something deep, down far that he'd buried, protected, cherished. A dream he'd chase in sleep, a thought he'd follow when awake.
The Soldier fled the apartment after that and didn't step foot inside ever again. Instead he'd watch Steve move about from the nearby rooftop every now and then through the scope of his rifle, never once stepping close. Until tonight. Tonight the Soldier crouched low, eyes scanning the road below for any sign of Steve's return. He'd already snuck inside early, hunted down ever single bug that SHIELD—that HYDRA—had in place and calmly turned them off.
It wouldn't raise red flags, because when Steve wasn't there they didn't pick up anything anyway. They generally started recording when Steve entered the door, connected to a little motion sensor that was the first thing the Soldier disabled before he went about the apartment, steadfastly avoiding the bedroom until the very end. Then he'd returned to the fire escape, crouched low, watched, and waited.
Finally he caught sight of the familiar head of blond hair. For a moment the Soldier's breath hitched, his fingers dug into the metal grate as he watched Steve, shoulders slumped and legs dragging on the ground walk into the apartment building. The Soldier frowned, a part of him curled, recoiled at the sight while another, another enjoyed it. He both wanted to chase away what caused the slumped shoulders, and cause that look to appear on Steve's face. His fingers bent the metal of the grate before he released it with a hissed breath.
The Soldier returned his attention to inside the apartment, this time standing up and pressing his back to the wall next to the window. He listened, waited until he could hear the door open and Steve step inside. He heard the keys drop into a bowl by the front door, the lights flickered on. Steve sighed heavily, headed in the direction of the kitchen. The Soldier licked his lips and knocked, once, twice on the glass of the window.
Instantly Steve whipped around, body tense. The Soldier appreciated the tauntness of the others muscles for a second until with a curse Steve made his way over to the window, body lined in fury. That, the Soldier found, looked even better on him than the slumped despondence.
Steve pulled the window up, opened his mouth and said, “What are you--” but the Soldier silenced him with a quick finger up in front of his mask, the universal sign of quiet. He grasped the window sill, tilted his head toward the apartment. Steve backed up and the Soldier slipped inside, made a beeline for the door and crouched down. Assured that his disabling job remained in place, he stood back up.
“Quiet,” he told Steve, barely restraining himself from grabbing the others arm like he had earlier. “Your neighbor is SHIELD.”
Steve went stark pale for a second and grabbed the Soldier by the arms, pulled him back towards the bedroom, and practically shoved him into the wall.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.
The Soldier tilted his head. “A gift.”
“What gift?” Steve demanded, the Soldier pulled out a drive and held it palm up for Steve to take. Steve stared at it warily, then looked back up at the Soldier. “How do you know she's SHIELD?”
The Soldier blinked but obediently answered, “When I am awoken I am given a dossier on persons of interest, in case I come across them during a mission. Agent 13 of SHIELD was one such dossier, noted for living next to one of the men on the Avengers list for security.”
Steve stepped back and loosened his hold, a little surprised by the automatic response. “Were you given a dossier on me?”
The Soldier pursed his lips, but said, “No. All I was given a basic description, blond, wears blue spandex, carries a shield, and part of the Avengers Initiative. Any information about you I have uncovered by myself.”
“They're not really spandex,” Steve said embarrassed and completely released the Soldier. The Soldier raised his hand, offering the drive again. Steve sighed and took it. “So what is this?”
“A gift,” the Soldier repeated.
“Aside from a gift,” Steve said, sitting down onto the edge of his mattress. The Soldier glanced around the room. His eyes bounced around, almost with nervous energy.
“It is what you've been looking for,” the Soldier eventually said, drifting over to the corner of the room that had the canvas. He stared at the face, more filled in, almost finished since the last time he'd seen it. Steve's head shot up almost immediately at his words.
“How did you get this?” Steve demanded.
“I have access,” the Soldier replied, his fingers not quite ghosting the image. “I know who has access,” he amended, then asked, almost in a whisper, “Who is this?”
Steve got to his feet and tugged the painting away, gently but insistently putting it into the closet. “No one,” he said sharply. The Soldier looked up at him, gaze searching, before he looked away and started for the door. Steve sighed. “His name was Bucky,” he said. “He died seventy years ago. He was my best friend.”
The Soldier paused, looked back at Steve. One hand at his side clenched into a fist, but he said nothing. Steve didn't look over at him, just placed a hand on the closed closet door.
“Thanks,” he said. “For the...gift.”
The Soldier nodded, and then left without a word. Steve rolled the thumb drive over in his hands, traced his fingers along the carved Cyrillic lettering with a furrowed brow. He didn't know what it said, couldn't read it let alone understand it, but he had a feeling it was that some word the Soldier called him by.
Голубка
OP again.
(Anonymous) 2014-04-20 10:38 pm (UTC)(link)Re: OP again.
Because that movie was gorgeous, and heartbreaking, and I need to have the characterizations right or I'll punch myself. Like my roommate and I got to discussing Steve's whole attitude and what we saw and what it means it HURTS because the baby is pretty much struggling throughout the entire Cap2 but, it made me realize that it fits with this story because otherwise I couldn't imagine Steve allowing the Winter Soldier to get close, knowing what he does, if he wasn't in the mental state he's been in.
So yeah. I'm trying to keep shit accurate, yet also inserting the levity the movie had, and the obvious levity your prompt implied. It's worked out so far XD (I tend to write either straight up crack, or more serious stories so getting humor into something that has more serious undertones is...a challenge, but I like it)
Re: OP again
(Anonymous) 2014-04-21 12:33 am (UTC)(link)