The Pirate And His Sea

Chapter 10: How Steve Found Out

(This is not my chapter and the credit of the characters goes to their respective authors)

Percy's bar was empty of all but two - the owner himself and his good friend Steve Rogers. The two of them were slouched over the counter, pleasantly buzzed and in good spirits. The former was in the middle of telling a tale of how he and his friends had been on the St. Louis Arch when terrorists attacked it, gesturing wildly with his glass and a huge smile on his face.

"And so," finished Percy, "we were the last people at the place before it was closed for renovations for at least a month."

Steve choked on his glass of Percy's personal whiskey (his favorite) and shook with laughter. "Seriously?" he said. At Percy's serious nod Steve snorted and laid his head on the counter.

Letting out a soft sigh, Percy put down the his glass and straightened. "We should get you back home, Steve." His dear friend (had it really only been four months since the explosion that had brought them together?) hummed quietly and got to his feet, if a little unsteadily. After a moment Steve made his way to the door and pulled his bomber jacket off the wrought iron coat stand, reserved for regulars and Percy's friends. He shrugged into it and waited by the heavy door. Percy was by his side a moment later, pushing him out and locking the door behind them. It was an easy routine, one they were familiar with. Have a few drinks, talk, complain about life, then Percy would walk him the four blocks to the busier street and hail a cab with his infamous taxi-cab whistle. Steve knew his friend could take care of himself; it was a ten minute stroll to Percy's apartment, and somehow his friend could recover from drinking faster than he could.

"Man, I can't believe your drinks can actually get me buzzed." Steve commented without thinking.

"What do you mean?"

Steve winced. That's right - Percy didn't know about his super soldier status. Well, that wasn't true - his friend had figured out he was different, somehow. He didn't ask questions when bruises disappeared quicker than they should, didn't wonder at his hardy composure; he just let it be. But he had no idea he was Captain America (his shield had slipped from his arm and remained at the bottom of the bay when he'd fallen) only that he was a SHIELD agent.

A slip of the tongue could be deadly, for both of them. So he waved it off.

"Oh, it's nothing."

Percy's raised eyebrow made him burst into half-drunken nervous giggles, and the bartender was quick to follow.

It was in their stupefied giddiness that it happened - a black car rolled to a halt next to them before they could react. A group of men in non-descript clothes and with masks over their faces leapt at them and suddenly they were down.

Steve was so startled he barely had time to react before there was a sharp pain at his neck. He stumbled to his knees at the force of the blow and helplessly Percy do the same. The black-haired man's eyes were swirling, green color darkening with awareness. He made to get to his feet, shaking off the effect of the alcohol like water, but a harder stomp on his back sent him down. A few more kicks to the head and Percy was out. Steve struggled not to follow him into the darkness but another blow sent him spiraling into unconsciousness.

He gripped weakly at the sleek bracelet on his wrist and with shaky hands pressed the hidden distress button. He had to alert SHIELD, otherwise who knew what could happen to him and Percy...

As he drifted away, he heard gruff voices:
"What should we do with the spare?"

"Bring him. Any friend of Captain America is good leverage."

"Ha, true. We'll make him regret ever meeting Steve Rogers."
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Steve woke slowly, and to the sound of dripping water. He remained still and listened - alert for the sound of any movement. There was only the sound of steady breathing.