THERE WERE MANY WORDS that could and have been used to describe Elijah Davis - legally Elijah Meyers. The majority of them weren't all that great, ranging from racial slurs to derogatory insults fuelled by his sexual orientation and inability to, quote on quote, fall in line.
But hey, what's the American dream if not incredibly discriminatory?
He much preferred the titles that had been used to describe him. He enjoyed being a brother, a best friend, a boyfriend, a partner in crime... hell there was even a time, as short-lived as it was, where being referred to as Staff Sergeant Elijah Davis brought a smile to his face.
But now as he walked through the hallways of the Triskelion, his eyes finally settling on their normal brown colour instead of the harsh red, he wished he had a label for this.
Elijah had never known what he was, from a young age he'd been susceptible to blood and had simply learnt to live with it. He remembered the first time he'd noticed his weakness very vividly and the way it made him feel.
He was 11 and his mother had just brought home his new little brother. Unlike him, the small Korean baby had been adopted and Elijah remembered not even being able to coo at him before being assaulted by the smell of blood, caused by the little wounds where the baby had been given his vaccinations.
He'd almost gone carnal that day and still, 13 years later, he wondered why his parents could bleed in front of him and elicit no reaction and what would have happened if his mother hadn't taken the baby to the nursery and his father (before he became an abusive asshole) took him to his piano lessons.
Where Elijah believed what he was had no name, what he could do did. Haemokinesis, or in layman's terms the ability to manipulate blood.
He could sculpt his own blood into everyday tools, weapons, limbs, anything as long as the cut producing the blood remained open. He was also able to control another person and the flow of their blood as long as he'd tasted it within 24 hours.
Discovering the latter was incredibly traumatic for the man, and the sole reason why Elijah would never tell the story of the night he lost his virginity.
"Elijah, status," Maria's voice brought Elijah out of his mental deep dive into his past and he responded without hesitation.
"Exhausted," he exclaimed dramatically, "this is utterly exhausting, why do you do this shit for fun!?"
"Assignments aren't usually fun," Maria responded and Elijah could practically hear her rolling her eyes, "where are you?"
"A stairwell," he answered, looking around before he specified, "north stairwell on the 41st floor."
"Perfect, Sam's just down the hall. He needs help."
"Help with what, lifting a watch?" He asked sarcastically, very aware that although his eyes were no longer circling through red, he was incredibly weak to blood. Once he gave into his inhibitions, his control was so fragile that a simple paper cut could turn him feral.
The last thing he wanted was for Sam to notice and ask if he was okay, Elijah hated lying to the man but he wasn't prepared for him to find out what he could do just yet.
"Natasha said you have impeccable aim and we both know you not fighting doesn't mean you can't," Maria said sternly, "whatever's scared you into being a pacifist, get over it. Sam needs you."
"Woah... some motivational speaker you are," Elijah responded, he'd bit down on his lower lip as Maria had read him like a book and being a sarcastic asshole was his only defence mechanism.
"Elijah."
"Fine, fine, I'm going," he pouted although Maria couldn't see him, "no need to scold me like my mother, God rest her poor soul. You sounded just like her, scared the shit out of me."
Elijah heard the deep sigh come from Maria on her end and he imagined her gritting her teeth in annoyance before she said, "down the hall, third door on the left."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Try not to die before I kill you myself."
"Ouch," Elijah shrugged as he held a hand to his heart playfully before moving out of the stairwell and towards Sam's location, "that was very Romanoff of you, she'd be proud."
"Just go..." Maria breathed out before cutting comms, rather aggressively as Elijah heard the static in his ear once she did.
He grinned to himself as he jogged down towards Sam's location, pushing open the door at the exact time Rumlow threw his friend over a row of tables.
"Oh, that looked painful. Was it painful?" He asked, causing Rumlow to snap his attention to him as Sam groaned and looked in his direction.
"Eli?"
"Hi Sammy," Elijah smiled at him, giving his best friend a small wave.
"You don't know when to give up, do you?" Rumlow spat at him, watching in irritation as Elijah moved towards Sam and helped him up, "whatever I choose to do to you is gonna hurt. There are no prisoners with HYDRA, just order. And order only comes through pain. You ready for yours?"
Elijah blinked slowly as he took in Rumlow's words before turning his back on him and fully focusing on Sam.
"20 bucks says he was a scene kid," the Frenchman said and Sam laughed. The airmen watched Rumlow from over Elijah's shoulder, cataloguing the annoyance on his face that he wasn't being taken seriously.
"30 for jock," Sam said, shaking Elijah's hand, "his arms are massive, no way he didn't start as a kid."
"I'll take that bet," Elijah laughed, "I'll ask a friend for a deep dive of the prick's life."
"Who are you calling a prick?" Rumlow asked.
"You," Sam and Elijah stated at the same time, the latter turning to face him once more.
Rumlow continued to glare at them, missing how Elijah's teasing countenance turned into one of shock and fear at the sight of a falling Helicarrier getting very close to the glass. His right eye flashed red for a moment, the faint smell of blood from Sam's cut reaching his nose but Elijah was able to fight off his body's response before Sam could notice.
Once he was calm, he grabbed Sam's wrist and took a few subtle steps back,
"You're out of your depth, kid. When I get my han-" Rumlow's threat was cut off when the Helicarrier smashed through the window, taking Rumlow down in an instant.
"Shit!" Elijah yelled, dragging Sam along with him in what was now a full sprint, "what the fuck type of blockbuster shit is this!?"
"Please, tell me you got that chopper in the air!" Sam yelled into his earpiece, he was talking to Natasha but since Elijah had been disconnected from the comms by an annoyed Maria, he was unaware.
"Sam, where are you?" Natasha asked.
"41st floor, northwest corner! I'm with Eli," the sound of the flying vehicle destroying furniture was getting very loud and the pair of friends were quickly losing empty space to run into.
"We're on it, stay where you are."
"Not an option!" Sam yelled. They'd reached the end of the room and they both shared one look of terror before leaping out of the window. Glass showering them as they plummeted through the air, only to just barely have the helicopter catch them.
Sam was lucky, he landed almost in a seated position but Elijah wasn't granted the same fate. He was lighter than Sam, so instead, he slid across the floor of the helicopter and almost fell directly out of the opening on the opposite side. Had Sam not grabbed his ankle when he did, Elijah was convinced he would have died young at 25 instead of 30.
"41st floor! 41st!" Sam yelled once he pulled Elijah back into the helicopter.
"It's not like they put the floor numbers on the outside of the building!" Fury yelled back.
"No one told me almost getting crushed to death was on the agenda today!" Elijah shrieked, "that's it! I quit!"
"You don't work for any of us," Natasha stated.
"Well I just almost died for your fucking cause, I better get a bloody contract for my troubles," he huffed, crossing his arms and pouting like a child.
"We'll talk, if we manage to rebuild after this," Fury said with a nod, turning to focus on Natasha as she spoke into the comms.
"Hill, where's Steve? You got a location on Rogers?"
Elijah perked up at that, suddenly reminded of the man he wanted to sleep with. After a quick sweep of the helicopter and noticing that Steve was not in the vehicle with them, he tilted his head slightly, looking up at the sole Helicarrier still in the air.
It was breaking apart, with specific areas on fire and Elijah sighed heavily when he realised Steve was very much still on it. He wouldn't know this, but the pure disappointment and worry that filled him was similar to that which filled Sam every time Elijah did something to endanger his life or freedom.
"Fucking soldiers," Elijah cursed under his breath, before calling out, "anyone got a knife?"
Sam looked at him, a little confused by the request, while Natasha handed him one without question. When the weapon was in his hands, he looked at the sheathed blade and took a deep breath, realising what he was about to do.
He'd never really been in a situation where he had to reveal what he could do, but there was too much debris in the sky for the helicopter to fly in and help Steve. Since Elijah was certain the man with the metal arm was what was stalling the captain's plan, he figured he'd need all the help he could get.
"Why do you need a knife?" Sam asked and Elijah smiled before wrapping his hands around the sheath of the blade and offering the airmen the hilt.
"I'm gonna need you to cut my back open?"
"You're gonna need me to do what!?" Sam's shock was loud and expected but Elijah had a hard time focusing on his words, the blood staining his temple from a small cut, catching his attention.
Usually, Elijah would turn away, scold his body for reacting to the substance and stop the change his eyes went through, but nothing about today was normal so he didn't move. He allowed his eyes to change, almost feeling the blood-red colour take over his pupils.
Elijah watched, a little nervous, as Sam froze in front of him. The brown eyes of the airmen locked on the red of the Frenchman with a mix of confusion and fear. He instinctively leaned away from him and Elijah tried his best not to be bothered by the action, the last thing he wanted was for anyone to be afraid of him.
"Y-your eyes..." Sam stuttered out, the surprised in his voice evident as he spoke.
"Sorry, I forgot how scary they must look to someone seeing them for the first time," Elijah shrugged, he was acting rather nonchalant but on the inside, he was freaking out, "I'm sure you've had questions about my unnatural sensitivity to blood so... here's your answer."
Elijah made the mistake of smiling, showing off his front teeth that were stained by the blood of the Hydra man he'd killed earlier. Sam noticed the red and a conclusion, that Elijah had been expecting, came to his mind.
"You're-"
"Not a vampire," he cut him off, "that was Juno's first guess but sunlight doesn't kill me, I love garlic and I have a reflection. I don't have fangs either, my teeth are as sharp as your average emo girl's. Haven't really tested the whole mortality thing but I age, so it's most likely out of the cards for me."
"So what are you?" Natasha voiced the question on Sam's mind. He was surprised at how calm she was with everything, he assumed she'd be the most shocked as she'd known him for the longest.
"Don't really know, haven't figured that out yet," Elijah answered before offering Sam the knife again, "I'll explain everything in more detail later, but right now I need you to cut my back open. Just two vertical ones between my shoulder blades would be great."
"I... you'll bleed out," Sam said quietly, seeming to understand that despite his shock, now wasn't the best time for a Q&A.
"I won't," he shook his head as he turned around, presenting his back to Sam, "I have like ten times the amount of blood as most people and it doesn't leave my body without my permission. It'll hurt like a bitch but I won't bleed."
"Are you sure?"
"100%... okay, 85 but that's pretty good odds," Elijah answered and with a sigh, Sam unsheathed the blade.
Elijah could hear the worry in Sam's breathing, but he did nothing to soothe him as the knife was brought to his back. The Frenchman gritted his teeth as the blade dug into his skin, ripping it open as Sam pushed down.
"Ugh," Elijah groaned in pain, balling his fist and slamming it against his thigh. The pain was almost unbearable but he refused to state such a thing until the other cut was made, "see, no blood."
Sam watched the cut he'd created on his friend's back. Noticing how the blood seemed to congregate at the surface of the wound but never move past the threshold. Intrigued and incredibly apprehensive, he lifted the knife once more and sliced his back. The skin pulled apart but once again, the blood didn't move.
"Jesus Christ, that fucking hurt," Elijah announced, taking a few frantic breaths before turning back to face Sam. The shock was evident on the birdman's face as was the intrigue on Natasha and Fury's but Elijah chose to ignore them, he'd answer questions later, "okay, now this part's gonna get a little... disturbing."
"How could it be more disturbing than cutting into my friend's back?"
"I am so glad you asked," Elijah asked before allowing his eyes to turn fully red. The blood-red colour filled his black pupils before leaking into the whites of his eyes at the same time blood began to protrude out of his open back.
"Eli?" Sam asked as the man stood up.
"I really am sorry for keeping so many secrets from you Sammy, but I assure you I had reasons. Just... just please don't hate me."
"I could never hat-" Sam's words were cut off as Elijah stepped out of the helicopter, plummeting towards the ground, "ELIJAH!"
There was a strong gush of wind as Elijah's falling body changed directions. Dark red blood had poured out of his body, shooting out into the open sky before twisting and moulding itself into something that resembled wings. The sight was almost terrifying to Sam, watching a man he'd known for years, fly through the sky with wings made of his own blood.
"You know about this?" Natasha asked Fury, as Sam sat almost paralyzed, watching Elijah make his way through the falling debris towards the Helicarrier holding Steve and Bucky.
"I knew he was hiding something ," Fury said, taking his eyes off the sky and focusing back on the helicopter, "didn't know it was that."
"Neither did I," Natasha sighed, "and I've known the kid since he was in high school."
While Natasha and Fury spoke, Sam didn't move, not when the helicopter began to fly away from the scene and not when Elijah landed on the shattering Helicarrier and his comms were turned back on, picking up him saying "if I don't at least get dinner for this save, I'm gonna end it all".
He did, however, move when his friend's comms abruptly went out only to menacingly whisper.
"That bastard better be alive so I can kill him myself."
What Sam didn't know, was that he wasn't the only person in the past hour to claim the opportunity of ending Elijah's life.