Stranded- A Romanogers Fanfiction

Breakout

"Someone is here to see you." The warden knocked hard on the hard rusty metal of Sam Wilson's cell bars. The non resonant noises woke the falcon up from his restless sleep and so he let the warden walk him to the visiting room, gestured for him to sit by a booth facing a familiar man sitting to his opposite, parted by the soundproof glass. "Pick up the phone." The man mouthed. This is interesting. He certainly wasn't expecting any visitor to ever come at all; much less Nick Fury himself. Yes, you heard that right; The Nick Fury.

Of course Nick wasn't dressing casually; he was wearing a pair of shades, a beer-branded cap complimented by a blood red coat that definitely didn't suit his personality at all; maybe that's the point. To hide. To not be seen. Because even coming here was actually the stupidest decision he could possibly make given the situation that he was currently in. But yet there he was, visiting Sam Wilson in prison although it might cost him his freedom and life.

Sam kept his eyes on the older man, waiting for what he has to say. Nick's voice was calm as he started, "Red and Blue. MIA." Okay. So that's it. Right to the point, no chit chat, no bullshitting. Nick Fury had a message to say and he wanted to make it quick.

Sam squinted. Did he hear that right? Red, Natasha. Blue, Steve. MIA. Missing in Action. Missing. To…where? Why? How? Questions started forming in his head.

"I need your help." Nick's face stayed flat and expressionless although his voice showed a hint of desperation. "It's been two weeks."

"Not when I'm caged like this."

Fury leaned forward. "I took care of it."

"How?"

"Wilson Fisk." That's it. Two words that changed everything. Sam froze where he sat, it took him some time before he finally digested the words down his stomach and it crumbled with nervousness when the words finally seeped in. They're using help from Wilson Fisk, as in a crime lord, as in the Kingpin of this hell hole, a king of the most crooked parts of the city. They're playing a different game now; they're not playing clean.

"How did you get the deal?" Sam asked quietly, almost baffled by the new information.

"Exchanged it for intel."

"What intel?"

"Barnes' whereabouts."

Sam threw himself to the edge of his seat. "You know where Barnes is?"

Nick slowly nodded.

"Steve would be pissed about this."

"He won't be."

"How can you be so sure?"

Nick formed a crescent smile. "You'll see."

Sam returned to his cell only to find the intimidatingly tall and broad figure of the infamous Wilson Fisk blocking the door frame, two of his tattooed goons standing scrutinizing behind him. All of them stared at him like he was a harmless prey just waiting to be skinned. Fisk was tall and broad, stocky and bald and oddly docile looking, to everyone's surprise. It was as if his track records of murders were faked documents; but it's not. Fisk was a ruthless son of a bitch and Sam knew that very well despite only having spent about two weeks in the penitentiary.

"Sam Wilson. The Avenger. It is an honor to meet you." Fisk nodded at him, gesturing him to walk by his side. Sam complied. Fisk was so tall that Sam only stood as high as his shoulders.

"I've heard quite a lot about you too, Mr. Fisk."

Wilson Fisk scoffed. "I bet you have. So tell me, how important are you that a failed SHIELD director turned criminal needed to break you out?"

"What, is it too much trouble for you to just show me the exit and get done with it?" Sam answered defensively, not afraid by the threatening ambience that suddenly grew around his surroundings.

"Oh, no, no." Wilson Fisk stopped by a door and pushed it open, smilling so cunningly at Sam with his tiny eyes piercing threateningly and lips forming a sinister thin line. "I just feel that we strong men must stay together; for your own good." Once the door was open wide rays of sunlight bursts into the claustrophobic halls, sounds of the city thick and oddly soothing outside the door. Sam gave one last look at the Kingpin before he turned away wordlessly and walked towards the black SUV that he knew was waiting for him. He thought about what Wilson Fisk had said and he wondered what was the meaning within his last words. But he soon let it go after he jumped in to the shotgun seat, relief with the revelation that it was Nick Fury behind the steering wheel, looking calm and composed as he always does, but unbelievably quiet, too.

"Tell me everything I missed." Sam demanded as they drove back towards the crowded traffic of New York City, blending in with the busy crowd.

"Rogers went after the cargo ship. Took Natasha with him. They never returned. Can't trace them either for some reason. I got word from a contact that the cargo ship arrived yesterday in their destination with a few crews missing due to an unnamed incident−"

"Which was probably caused by Steve and Natasha."

Fury hummed in aggrement before he continued, "but there were no signs of the two."

Sam kept his gaze on the busy traffic road. "So what do we do first?"

"First we go to my place." Fury quipped, puncturing through packed traffic like an aggravated sloth. They were quiet the rest of the way; he knew that Sam was worried about their two friends as much as he was but neither of them were the expressive type so that there wasn't much to say. He simply hoped for the best and wished that Steve and above all else- Natasha are doing okay, wherever they are. Soon the crowd of cars thinned out and they came closer to a suburban area, one that Sam could never imagine Nick Fury would reside in. They pulled over by a normal-looking house with an open front yard decorated with old, faded-painted garden gnomes, with colorful flowers decorating around the fresh green grass and a yellow painted walls with an ugly red roof and white wooden door. Nick twisted the keys and entered. Sam followed behind him and took a look around. This house looked… normal. Too normal.

Then he heard footsteps and a low pitched voice of a man, saying; "I finished all the bacon hope you don't−oh." The man stood there by the kitchen entryway, looking at Sam Wilson while Sam looked at him with a shocked look.

"Hi," the man waved with a blank look. "I'm Bucky."