Allie
~~~
After leaving Pierce's office Steve heads straight for the elevator, urgently pulling me along.
"He didn't even mention Gabie," I whisper and Steve shakes his head. "And I'm sure Sharon reported that she was there. Steve, something isn't right here."
"We have to get out of here and get that drive before anything else," Steve replies as we step into the elevator. "Operations control."
"Confirmed," the computer chimes. The elevator doors begin sliding shut but just as they are about to close Brock Rumlow's arm stops them. Rumlow then steps in with another two STRIKE agents.
"All STRIKE personal on site," Rumlow states and the other two agents echo acknowledgments to the order.
"Understood."
"Yes, sir."
"Forensics," Brock requests and the computer quickly responds.
"Confirmed."
"Cap, Siren," he greets shortly.
"Rumlow," Steve acknowledges while I just give a nod. The elevator doors close and they start riding down.
"Evidence response found some fibers on the roof they want us to see. You want me to get the tac-team ready?" Rumlow queries and Steve shakes his head.
"No, let's wait and see what it is first."
"Right."
On the occasions when I am relatively quiet and uninvolved with conversations it's because my thoughts are unfocused and my attention is instead on my surroundings. As my eyes dart around I take notice to one of the agents touching his weapon suspiciously. I tilt my head up slightly and see that Steve has noted the same fact.
The elevator stops and more SHIELD and STRIKE agents enter, crowding and surrounding Steve and I.
"Administrations level," one of them calls, though I doubt it.
"Confirmed." A few agents shuffle by to stand behind us muttering quiet "excuse me's".
The elevator goes down a floor and stops again.
"Um...sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up what happened to him," Rumlow apologizes doing his best to look sincere.
"Thank you," Steve returns genuinely.
The agents surrounding us are pointedly keeping their eyes forward and I notice one of them has sweat dribbling down his neck. Oddly enough they are all wearing long sleeved shirts and pants, usually STRIKE agents have short sleeves. Something is off here. I sneak a closer look at the agent nearest me and find a barely noticeable clear plug in his ear.
That's the final nail in our coffin.
Looking to Steve I see his expression is one of stoic protectiveness; no one besides me would recognize the message he's sending with the tiniest of variations in the otherwise blank face. I recognize this look, it's the expression he has when he feels overwhelmingly defensive of me but feels he may be being irrational so he tries to hide it or if he is trying to remain calm while in an argument in front of me.
The elevator stops again and even more agents pile in, making a pointless floor request as they do.
"Records."
"Confirmed."
The doors slide shut, we are utterly surrounded, completely outnumbered, and insanely outgunned. Steve shifts on his feet and holds his head up high, posing a flat and on the mark question,
"Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?"
There is a moment's pause before two of the agents turn and jab an electric rods into Steve's chest and my back. The moment of weakness triggered by the shock allows agents to grab onto Steve and shove him into the opposite wall while I am tackled against the doors. The agents begin scrambling with magnetic cuffs, locking one to Steve's wrist. He grunts and groans as he labors against the pull before finally tanking away and knocking two agents down. Steve moves to assist me only to get pinned by a second cuff.
In the struggle against my attackers my fist slams into the control panel and brings the elevator to a screeching halt.
Jack Rollins has his arms wrapped around me in a death grip from behind and no amount of struggling and burning seems to bother him. Kicking my feet up I manage to wrangle my legs around a second agent in front of me, throwing both Jack and him off their rhythm. We struggle, locked in the precarious position, until the third agent on me throws a cuff onto my right wrist and sticks me right to the ceiling of the elevator.
"Oh what the fuck, oh what the fuck!" I squeal and reach up to try an free myself while also trying to kick my attackers away.
Steve is not doing better then I am, Rumlow has him pinned and is using Steve's immobilization to shock the living daylights out of him. Steve lets out a choked shout and jams his elbow back into Rumlow before throwing a punch at another agent coming back for more. Steve jumps up and plants his feet on the wall, pulling back against the magnetic force with all his might, the momentum he creates manages to free him from the cuff and launch him into a backflip. He lands flawlessly and the cuff drops uselessly to the ground, giving him full use of his super soldier limbs to finish the rest of these soldiers off.
Fuming I jerk against the cuff, hating dangling from the ceiling by one wrist.
"Melt bitch!" I growl as my skin grows hotter and hotter against the metal. "Come on!" Finally my wrist falls through and I land directly on top of one nameless agent, making sure to throw a strong punch as I do. Inhaling deeply I jerk my head up and give a smoldering smirk to one of the final agents left standing.
Steve is facing off with Brock Rumlow and I Jack Rollins.
"Woh, big guy. I just want you to know, Cap, this ain't personal," Rumlow remarks before lunging at Steve with his electric rod. Jack, being a man of few words, says nothing before he charges me.
He hits me hard and body slams me to the ground despite my best efforts to stay on my feet. I'm not very heavy so getting me off my feet isn't difficult. Rage and fire flowing through my veins drives me to claw at Rollin's face but he grabs my wrists in a bruising grip. Rollins has some protection against burns and some locking mechanism in his gloves that has me so overpowered.
Steve dodges Rumlow's first jab, takes the second in the abdomen, and return with a swing of his own, the pair punching and blocking equally for a moment before Steve overpowers Rumlow and throws him into the ceiling. The man hits the ground and he's out cold.
"It kind of feels personal."
Anger wanes and suddenly icy fear takes its place.
The elevator disappears before my eyes, replaced by cement walls and Rollin's ugly mug with the smirking face of a devil.
The fear is overwhelming and despite my best efforts a wail escapes me as the horrifying realization that I am still there with him washes over. My body begins shaking violently and I shake my head, trying to force the images away and convince myself of the reality that he is dead and I killed him.
My hands clamp down and every instinct in my head screams that this is life or death, that Aldrich Killian is on top of me.
The burning grows hotter and hotter and the sounds of his voice distort into screams of pain while the sight of the cement walls becomes a weak man and the scent of expensive cologne turns to the stench of burning flesh.
"Allie!"
I blink and find Jack Rollins unconscious above me, my hands still burning into his skin. Steve shoves the man off and crouches down to be at eye level with me.
"I burned him through his protective clothes, until the pain shut his brain down, and I didn't stop," I utter, sitting up to horrifyingly observe my handiwork. The arms of Jack Rollins are horribly disfigured around almost blackened handprints.
"Allie, you gotta stay with me," Steve murmurs and swiftly picks me up off the ground and sets me on my feet. "We have to get out of here."
Steve grabs up his shield then pries open the elevator doors, only to be faced by a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons at us.
"Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!"
"I'm sorry, Allie."
"Wh-agh!" Before I can ask why he's sorry or what his plan is or anything the man has me spun into his left arm, his hand firmly planted over my mouth, and his shield slamming into the elevators wires.
The reason for his apology and the gloved hand over my mouth becomes very clear as the elevator plummets. A screech jumps up my throat only to be thankfully muffled by Steve's hand.
Almost in seconds the emergency stop clamps down into the sides of the elevator and bring us to a slamming stop. Steve releases his grip and I stumble a few steps, the rush of falling making me queasy and uneasy.
"Apology accepted for grabbing me but definitely not for doing that!" I breathe out.
"Had to think fast doll," he replies and then moves to force open the elevator doors again, this time we are between floors.
"Motherfucker," I grumble upon seeing more STRIKE agents flooding each floor level, giving us no real escape. I would scream but they've clearly prepared to combat my abilities. Steve pushes the doors closed and begins looking for another way out, though there is none. "Steve, honey, I think we're a little bit fucked."
"Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!"
My stubborn captain turns to me, a shameful expression on his face that means he has a terrible idea. Steve pulls his shield off his back and sturdily fixes it on his right arm. He then wraps his free arm around me tightly, taking full advantage of our size difference to shield as much of my body as possible.
"We have to jump and we have to do it now."
"I don't want to fall again," I breathe out, eyes wide, and he nods sympathetically.
"I know, I don't want you to either," he murmurs and kisses my hair.
Every bone in my body is screaming at me to beg him not to make me do it but he's right it is our only option. Hooking my arms around him tightly I bury my face into his chest and prepare to fight any screams of terror that might want to escape me. It's a big fall, not big enough to break super soldier bones but big enough to break mine, fortunately I'll heal.
"Do it."
Steve tightens his grip and then throws himself at the glass, holding his shield to block as much as possible. The window breaks away with ease letting us free fall. My stomach drops but I keep my mouth sewn shut and my teeth clenched; any scream from me would seriously injure Steve at this close a range.
The ground comes up all too fast; Steve and I slam through a glass ceiling and then smash onto linoleum flooring, the shield barely offering any protection. The pain is instant, my arm breaks against the shield on impact, at least three of my ribs crack, and my right leg simply becomes a flesh bag of loose bones. A trail of blood is dripping down my face and no doubt staining my hair.
Glass surrounds us like a shiny halo along with a few utterly shocked agents and workers that had been going about their day without issue until two superheroes fell through the ceiling.
Steve scrambles to his feet, breathing hard, and reaches down for me. He is clearly in pain and clenching his teeth to hold his strength.
Extremis flows through my veins, methodically stitching and reforming as it does, and being surrounded by the heat having just fallen triggers something.
The ground beneath me seems to shift and my eyes open to see Tony's outstretched hand and distraught face.
"It's okay Tony, I love you, and I know you did the best you could."
And then I am falling.
When I hit the ground I feel only fire on my skin and smoke in my lungs.
Vaguely the feeling of someone jostling my body registers but I can see only flames and feel only scalding heat.
"Allie, come on, come back to me," Steve's voice whispers floating into the scene and breaking it up. "You are not there. You are here and you are with me."
Sharply I inhale and begin blinking and panting, trying to refocus and return.
"You are not there anymore I promise. I know it's hard to believe but you are not there," he reassures and I want to believe him, to trust him but it feels so real. "Close your eyes and focus on my voice."
Shitting my eyes I block out the sight of rising flames and listen only to Steve and feel only bones mending under my skin.
"Come on baby, come back to me," Steve pleads and that frozen paralysis of terror starts to fade.
The flashback comes to an end and I am thrust into reality again, opening my eyes to find Steve has been holding me in his arms towards the garage. Instinctively my hands tighten around him, not wanting to fall.
"Do you have a plan?" I ask and Steve only half nods.
"You're not gonna like it."
~~~
"You're right, I hate it," I grumble the second Steve's plan becomes clear.
We made it to the garage thanks to Steve's super running but now my super soldier soulmate is heading straight towards a motorcycle.
"It's fast," Steve reasons and sets me on the back. I whimper as the movement jostles my still healing injuries and slump over slightly. The Extremis is sluggishly healing each crack and cut, almost suspiciously so, but I guess I've never broken this many bones at once before. My captain swings his leg over and settles behind me allowing him to have his shield on his back and also keep me protected.
"You know I can't drive one of these right?" I say and Steve nods, his arms wrapping around me so he can hold the handles.
"Hopefully you won't have to," he responds and revs up the bike.
"Hopefully?" I squeak but the sound of the engine and our subsequent driving off drowns me out.
As we near the gates I see they are beginning to slide shut like jaws clamping down on innocent victims.
"Hold on," Steve warns and then jumps the motorcycle through the quickly closing gap using the tiniest speed bump as a platform. We fly out of the SHIELD garage but just barely.
When we land outside the gates I nearly breathe a sigh of relief before seeing two quinjets emerge ahead of us.
"Stand down, Captain Rogers. Stand down, Siren," booms over the jets speakers in unison. Both aircrafts promptly lower machine guns and aim at us.
"Repeat, stand down."
Steve doesn't stop and they start shooting. With zigzagging motions Steve manages to evade bullet after bullet but I know our luck will not last.
"I'll take the right if you get the left," Steve offers and I smirk, this quinjet doesn't stand a chance. Within the Triskellion I couldn't release my full might without concern for harming innocent bystanders but out here in the open? I can wreak havoc. "Wait until I get off, will ya?"
"Get off? Steve-" Before I can ask what his plan is the super soldier throws his shield into the right quinjet's propellers, jamming them. "Steve I swear to god if you leave me on this bike-" The plane swoops low and Steve uses this opportunity to launch himself into the jet, cutting off my threat and simultaneously leaving me to steer the bike.
Deciding I have to act fast before I crash the bike I turn to the second quinjet and release a guttural screech at it. The plane holds up and I conclude they must have outfitted it with some insane sound wave protection, however it can still burn. Narrowing my eyes and honing my rage I turn up the intensity of my cry and attempt to call upon my internal fire.
It rushes through me and explodes from my throat, nearly decimating the quinjet before me. In seconds the fire goes out and I am left gasping and feeling as if I've pushed beyond my limits and the fire has run out. Panting I clutch the handles of the bike and inhale sharply, the heat in my blood is still there and fixing my previous injuries but slowly.
Luckily the combination of my scream and of the flames did enough to combust the quinjet and send it careening into the ocean. Looking up whole still holding a death grip on the motorcycle handles I see Steve balanced atop the other plane.
Captain America balances steady on the aircraft and whips his shield, ricocheting it between the two jet engines before jumping off himself. He disappears behind the large stone gateway but I imagine he had a very dramatic landing.
The quinjet barely lasts a second before shuddering and nosediving into the road right in front of me.
I only have seconds to plan and barely any skills at driving a motorcycle to lean on so what happens next it sloppy.
Driving the motorcycle right into the crashed quinjet I manage to half use it as a ramp to catapult my body over the gate. The plan barely works as the bike gets caught and what was supposed to be a carefully executed leap turns into a reckless fall.
A yell of fear escapes me and I flail while falling through open air. I'm falling again.
Luckily I make it over the gate and even luckier my captain is waiting on the other side, arms outstretched to catch me.
I land roughly into him but him being the stupidly perfect specimen of a man he is doesn't falter a single step.
"I was falling again," I pant out. "You caught me."
"Course I did," he confirms and I nod. Briefly glancing around I take in the predicament of a situation we're stuck in now. We may have escaped that attack but there will be more. "I would put you down but doll, you cannot run right now." With that said Steve takes off sprinting.
We have to disappear as soon as possible.
~~~
We ended up commandeering a car from an all too willing fan of ours to get as far away from the Triskellion as possible.
~~~
"We have to go back and get the drive," Steve says, stating the obvious, and I nod.
"We cannot show up to the hospital looking like this; we need new clothes," I continue and frown down at the state of my suit. "I'm covered in blood again."
"Have you healed entirely yet?" Steve inquires, glancing at me worriedly. "You're not still bleeding right?" Gently I prod at where the flash was on my forehead to find it close and then experimentally move all my limbs. Small jolts of pain shoot through me but for the most part I seem healed.
"Still working on it," I reply and watch orange and red swirl under my skin. "I thought it would heal my bones faster but I've never gotten that injured before. Not to mention I can tell it's healing something internally, I must have damaged some organs."
Steve reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it, while watching me with his peripheral vision.
"You'll be healed soon, good."
"That doesn't change the fact that we need new clothes, and cash, and that drive," I point out.
"We can't go back to the apartment, it'll be crawling with SHIELD agents," Steve grumbles and suddenly I remember Tony!
"Tony!" I exclaim. "Oh my God!" The man must have returned from his errand to find the apartment surrounded by SHIELD agents, the living room in a state of disaster, and worst of all blood on the floor. "He's probably worried out of his mind! Oh my God!"
My heart rate skyrockets and suddenly I'm flushed with overwhelming concern and worry.
"He might not know we're okay! Steve, he has to know that we are okay! We have to tell him!" I rush out, starting to become frantic. "We don't have phones!"
"Allie! Allison! Take a breath," Steve interjects and squeezes my hand again. "We have to stay calm."
"How!? Steve, he might think that we're dead!"
"Tony would be able to feel if we were dead so he knows we aren't and when he went back to the apartment he probably got some agent to give him the story," Steve assures but that doesn't do much to ease my worry. "He knows that we're okay."
"Does he? He knows that we're okay after some agent told him the director of SHIELD was assassinated in our apartment, I was shot twice, you jumped out the window in pursuit, Gabie jumped out the window in pursuit, I jumped out the window in pursuit, said assassin caught your shield, and Gabie disappeared?" I retort sarcastically and Steve hesitates, a sheepish look coming across his face.
"Clothes, calling Tony, and retrieving the drive," Steve lists.
"Calling Tony, clothes, and then retrieving the drive," I correct. "Or have a forgotten what happened the last time I disappeared on Tony?" Steve swallows thickly and I instantly realize my tone was unfairly accusatory. "Sorry, flare of anger."
"No, I understand and you're right. We'll find a phone to call Tony."
It's quiet for a minute as we both try to come up with a plan.
"I know where we can go," I say, abruptly remembering Gabie's secret apartment in D.C. "Drive East and I'll give you directions as we go."
"What's East?" Steve asks.
"Something Gabie is going to hate me for revealing," I mutter. She really is going to be pissed but there are no other options right now.
~~~
"Why does Gabie have a secret apartment in D.C?" Steve asks as I punch the code for the door in.
"Why does anyone have a secret apartment?" I counter, evading the question, and then shove open the door. We walk in and I kick the doer shut behind us, making sure the lock clicks. "I'll find some clothes for us. Can you phone the Stark Secure Server with the landline in the kitchen?"
Steve nods and I walk off to the main bedroom, knowing Gabie has clothes for me stashed there and hoping Gabie has clothes for Clint or any guy really lying around.
Gabie's bedroom is a mess with books and clothes everywhere.
"Looks like you panicked before you left," I murmur as I examine the disarray. Going to the closet I examine "my" side.
After minutes of rifling it becomes very apparent that the only clothing that could possibly fit Steve is a pair of plain jeans and a black hoodie we bought on the honeymoon. Said black hoodie has "Groom" stamped in white cursive letters on the front. A laugh escapes me and I shake my head, this will have to do. For the sake of matching I grab my "Bride" hoodie and black jeans.
"Hey Allie?" Steve calls and I whip around to find him walking through the door. "I got the ph-"
"No Steve!" I exclaim but it's too late, he's already seen all the parenting books and baby clothes on Gabie's bed.
"Why does Gabie have baby books and baby clothes?"
"I'm pregnant!" I blurt out before thinking at all. The second I hear what I said my face twists into a sad frown and I shake my head. "No I'm not pregnant, I panicked." Steve releases a huge sigh of relief as do I, if I was pregnant now it would be disastrous.
"Is Gabie?"
"I plead the fifth!" I shout and hurry out of the closet to herd Steve out of Gabie's room. "Now, let's call Tony." Steve opens his mouth to question my reply but before he can talk I flash my doe eyes. "Please, Steve. Let's call Tony."
My soulmate holds the phone out to me and I quickly type down the emergency number for the Stark Server and hit speakerphone.
It barely rings once before Tony picks up.
"Allie?! Steve!? Please say it's you," he rushes out.
"It's us, Tony. It's okay, we're okay," I assure and my genius makes a sound halfway between a sob and a cheer. "I'm okay, Tony. I promise I'm alright."
"Thank God," he breathes out. Hearing his voice and his relief instantly makes me feel ten times better. I could take on the world with my soulmates by my side. "What happened? Where are you?"
"Tony, Tony, I'm so sorry but we don't have a lot of time," I start out and bite my lip. "We're in a bad way with SHIELD and we have to keep moving."
"I can help," he says and I look to Steve, unsure.
"It's complicated, Tony," Steve interjects. "We have to go under the radar here."
"I can do under the radar, Stephen. Let me help," Tony demands and he clearly isn't going to take no for an answer.
"Alright, we have to go back to the Washington Hospital-"
"I'll meet you there," Tony says, cutting Steve off.
"Can you bring some clothes no one would ever suspect Captain America of wearing? And something no one would suspect Siren of wearing?" I request.
"I'll bring more than that," Tony responds and I grin.
"Thank you, Tony," Steve murmurs genuinely, a fond twinkle in his eyes.
"Of course, Cap."
"We'll see you soon," I say.
"I love you, stay safe." The statement could be just for me or for both of us but it makes Steve grin regardless.
The call ends and Steve abruptly wraps his arms around me, engulfing me in a protective embrace.
"I am sorry, Allie."
"It's not your fault," I reassure and hug him back just as fierce.
We pull away after a long moment and I pat his cheek in a comforting manner.
"Now come on, we have shit to do."
~~~
Disguised as civilians dressed in matching bride and groom Disney hoodie's Steve and I nonchalantly stroll through the halls of the hospital. We both have our hoods up, not that hoods make much of a difference, and keep our eyes down.
Together we shuffle up to the vending machine and look for the drive. Instantaneously we notice that said drive is not where it should be behind seven packs of gum. A thrum of panic rushes through me and Steve's calm expression falters.
A small popping sound followed by loud chewing has us turning to find Natasha behind us, clearly chewing gum.
In anger Steve abruptly pushes her into a room across the hall, dragging me with. The door shuts behind us and Steve corners her into a wall.
"Whoa! Is the shoving necessary?" I protest but Steve is focused on Nat. He has her against the wall and his hands gripped on her arms.
"Where is it?" he demands. I step up to intervene and insist Natasha is trustworthy but the Black Widow gives me an assuring nod that says 'I've got this.'
"Safe."
"Do better!" Steve snaps and I cross my arms disapprovingly.
"Where did you get it?" Nat fires back.
"Why would I tell you?" Steve counters.
"I can think of a few reasons why," I chime in, mostly sardonically.
"Fury gave it to you. Why?" Natasha questions insistently. The rest of the question being, 'Why you and why not me?' remains unsaid.
"What's on it?"
"I don't know."
"Stop lying!" Steve growls and squeezes down on her arms. The uncomfortable memory of how I charred Rollins arms resurfaces and I frown, trying to shove it aside.
"I only act like I know everything, Rogers," Natasha remarks and Steve shakes his head.
"I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?" Steve accuses and Natasha's composure nearly falters.
"Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you," she reasons but that isn't what Steve wants to know.
"I'm not gonna ask you again-"
"I know who killed Fury."
Steve freezes at the admission as do I. Whoever killed Fury has Gabie and he needs to be found.
"Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists, the ones who do call him the Winter Soldier," Natasha continues her voice intent and lowered. "He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years."
"So he's a ghost story," Steve concludes.
"Five years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot at my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff, I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there," she recounts and her eyes betray a tinge of fear. "I was covering my engineer, so he shot him straight through me." She pulls up her shirt to show the bullet scar on the side of her stomach. "A Soviet slug, no rifling." A coy smirk comes on her face and she adds one last throwaway comment, "Bye-bye bikinis."
"Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now," Steve agrees sarcastically and a hint of a genuine smile crosses Natasha's face.
"Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried." She holds up the drive as she speaks and Steve's stance finally relaxes. "Like you said, he's a ghost story."
Steve takes the drive from her and clutches it in his hand, a determined look on his face now.
"Well, let's find out what the ghost wants."
AN: I just wanted to write a quick note explaining that Allie's issues with dissociation and PTSD are based off my personal experiences and not everyone experiences these things the same way.
Also reactions to Gabie's pregnancy? Did anyone else panic when Allie blurted out that she was pregnant?