The Syndicates || "MARVEL: Avengers" || COMPLETED

T W O | ' debrief '

I dug my nails into my forearm, drawing blood as Rumlow scavenged for the metal round buried deep in my shoulder with a small pair of pincers. The little sh- I mean, he had refused to administer any of the submarine's abundant supply of anesthetic under the guise that it would be a waste of resources on a super soldier like myself- but was really sheer spite- and so the operation felt as if it were taking hours not mere seconds. The pain worsened with every prod and pull and I couldn't help the groan departing my lips as he finally plucked the bullet out, dropping it distastefully into my lap. Scrunching my nose up at the blood now wetting my jumpsuit, I pressed a hand against the wound and willed the flesh beneath it to heal. While my abilities had saved countless lives including my own in the past, I still hated the burning sensation of my body reconstructing and looked away through much of the process.

"Thank you."

I muttered in Rumlow's direction, grateful for his help though not enough to start up a conversation. It wasn't as if he expected a serenade. He hummed in acknowledgement, resting his head against the grooved steel wall.

The sub was decorated lavishly. Several mustard yellow beanbags had been splayed out across a thick gray carpet, adding a splash of colour to the otherwise monochromatic cabin. A small popcorn machine took up the corner furthest away from me, illuminated by bright LED's. Beside it sat a mini fridge, brimming with sodas and icy treats. Leaning back in my chair I waved over a masseuse, gesturing to my aching feet-

Just kidding.

Fitting HYDRA's typical style, the cabin was designed like a prison cell, only containing two steel benches and a dilapidated wooden cabinet stocked with medical supplies and rations. To my left sat a wall, stacked knee-high with racks of weapons and above that three shelves containing pertinent files in case of an immediate debriefing. Orange beams of light hung loosely from the ceiling, coated in rust, and the only other occupant was a low-ranking HYDRA operative who appeared visibly seasick.

5 stars for effort, right?

Across from us, Silver huddled beside Winter, tracing circles in the space between them  with her forefinger. She leant forward to whisper something into his ear and he nodded in agreement, rolling back his shoulders. Rolling his eyes, Rumlow cracked open the lid of a water bottle, startling me.

While the quiet churning of the submarine's engine should have been calming compared to the roars of the Lemurian and we only had a short while to go, I couldn't help the unease weighing me down.

That name.

What was it again? Brock, Brad-

"Who's Bucky?"

I asked Rumlow. For a few seconds, silence cast a grim shadow over the already strained atmosphere.

Thoughtlessly, Winter bent back the edge of his seat, leaving a nasty dent in the metal and inciting a piercing screech that caused all our eyes to fly in his direction. Rumlow grabbed my jaw roughly, no doubt leaving marks,

"The hell did you say?"

He seethed through gritted teeth, his eyes dancing between my own and Winter's. He knew exactly what I'd said.

"Nothing." I mumbled, regret rising like bile in my throat.

"Exactly. Nothing. Just like him." He spat, driving me back into my seat. For a moment he studied the ruined bench then gestured at Winter to follow him out, hurrying towards the Captain's quarters.

"Asset. With me."

Winter didn't move, as if he had been frozen in time. 

"Asset."

He repeated himself, tone warped with anger. 

Seconds passed with no response from the Soldier, and eventually Rumlow paced back towards him, squatting down so they were face to face, barely an inch apart.

"Who is Bucky?"

The asset said.

My face paled.

With an unmistakable crack, Rumlow's fist collided with Winter's jaw, sending his body soaring into Silver's. She clung onto the bench with white knuckles, staring straight ahead; refusing to watch the scene just as much as she refused to react to it.

"Asset! With me. Now!"

He grabbed Winter by the arm, paying no attention to the blood trickling from his mouth as he thrust him forward. Propelling him into the corridor with a series of prods and kicks he shut the the cabin door behind him, leaving Silver and I to stare silently at each other, our consciences plagued with guilt and anger.

Minutes later, the sub slowed to a stop.