☆ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ : ғᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀɴᴋɪɴᴅ

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[ COVERT LOCATION ] — ABANDONED AQUEDUCT
WASHINGTON D.C
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. EARTH.

March, 2014; 19:04 UTC
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Steve's knees buckled when they emerged from the back of the transport truck driven by Commander Maria Hill. If it wasn't for Debbie scooping him back rigid by his forearms from behind, he would have succumbed to the sensation that had his insides melting in on themselves. He kept hold of her arm for a significantly long time after he steadied himself. However, other than that, the two hadn't said a word to each other ever since they were handcuffed, nor acknowledged anything as out of the ordinary.

Even in staring into the eye of a dead man (another one), Steve kept close proximity to her.

Nick Fury sat, very much alive, across from Debbie Murphy, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Sam Wilson. "About damn time," he exclaimed, though frailly from his lounged position, wrapped up in hospital linen. He was wired up to rudimentary medical machines working tenfold, along with an anxious looking doctor. "I've been dead for the last twenty-four hours, and, honestly, I don't know what all the fuss is about," he quipped, pointedly gesturing toward the resident evidence of resurrections in the room with him.

Debbie slammed the mug of coffee she'd later been handed by the doctor treating Fury—or otherwise, bringing Fury back from the dead, with tremendous, unexpected force. The sound of the mug on the table echoed throughout the underground hideout that they had been safely brought to, after Maria Hill unveiled herself and cut a whole through the van they were being transported to their executions in. At the lingering stares Debbie was beginning to feel on her shoulders, she took a breath, indifferently leaning back in her seat, pushing the coffee to the side, and replying in a mumble, "There was no need to be so dramatic about it."

"You made the six o'clock," Fury told her, referring to the news channels that had hovered above her head before she was frogmarched into the back of her execution transportation. He added, "It was good work—smart move. I know a couple hundred people who would be reluctant to shoot the Lady Luna on live TV."

Considering most of the people who did want to shoot her had had their chance on the highway and had missed her by inches, Debbie glared back at Fury. Where Debbie stewed in her anger, warily rubbing her face with her hand, allowing for the impenetrable blanket of an astronaut's patience to cover her, thereby ignoring Fury, Natasha took over.

"They cut you open, your heart stopped," she asserted, while the doctor was packing her shoulder with gauze; she didn't flinch.

"Tetrodotoxin B. Slows the pulse to one beat a minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it. Also got a lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, one hell of a headache."

𝙇𝘼𝘿𝙔 𝙇𝙐𝙉𝘼 ★彡 ▬▬ sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀsWhere stories live. Discover now