Frost In Fire | S.Rogers

✪ CHAPTER EIGHT ✪

"I'm gonna watch you shine, Gonna watch you grow, Gonna paint a sign, So you always know"
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Chapter 8: Hello there.

2014

Brooklyn's heart thundered in her ears, staring at the tall, muscular man in his somewhat iconic "hero suit" as Clint called them while repairing the tears and miniscule cuts to the expensive fabric after a particularly harsh mission.

She could hear Fury talking, Steve objecting, but their words were mumbled and sounded foreign, almost as if she had jumped into the deep end of a swimming pool, her ears closing themselves up to prevent the water from entering and causing damage.

"How is that possible?" Steve ground out, "I've not-"

"It's not the usual way, no," Fury said as he crossed his arms from where he was leaning, "It's a tricky...mutation of your blood with hers," He pointed at the still silent Brooklyn with his chin, "when she was a kid, and so biologically she's yours. Well, as biological as this situation gets I suppose."

Daughter...Daughter...

"That doesn't make sense Fury," Steve objected, not understanding the difficult situation, "How would my blood have ever come in contact with her? I've not been around for a couple years if you hadn't noticed." He ended bitterly.

"I understand what you're suggesting, Captain, but no we did not-"

"What else could have happened?!-"

"Despite what you think Mr Rogers, we're not in the business of trafficking assumed-dead War Hero blood for our own gains-"

"How do I trust that?"

Brooklyn had not been called a Daughter in a very long time.

"Agent."

Fury's voice snapped Brooklyn out of the memory staircase she had been spiralling down, and she cleared her throat, straightening her back, clenching her arms behind her back as she met her Director's gaze.

"Yes Sir." She replied, voice strong despite her warming cheeks.

"As I was saying," Fury repeated, not mentioning her obviously unfocused state, "Whether you believe it or not Rogers, Agent 225 here is what anyone else would call your daughter. We're not forcing the responsibility of her on you, it is simply our job to inform not only you of your only possible alive relative, but also of my Agent of hers too."

Steve was silent, though his chest heave a little deeper than it had been before. Two breaths less than he had breathed the minute before. She had been counting.

"The next mission is in two weeks. Considering you'll both be going on it, I figured you could maybe spend some time together. Maybe get an ice-cream or something, whatever Father-Daughter duos do. Ask Stark."

Fury might as well have slapped the man she shared blood with across the face from how he jolted. He hadn't jolted much, enough to show the restraint he had on himself, but Brooklyn had been trained longer than he had, even before he crashed and froze, and so she had been trained to notice these things.

She knew Fury was aware too, knew every effect his words would have.

"Fury, you know...I'm not-"

Brooklyn knew what he was struggling to say, what his 1940 society would prevent him from saying so blatantly.

"Relax, Rogers," Nick Fury said coolly, Brooklyn tasting a hint of distaste towards the Captain from her Director as he too knew what he was trying to say, "My Agent does not need nor have the need to be dependant on anyone. She's perfectly capable of looking after herself, don't look so alarmed."