But while you’re here-here, have amini deleted scene(!!), under the cut! (It’s nothing really special, I just couldn’t fit it into the chapter like I originally had planned and thou shalt not erase 700 words my child~)
NOTES/WARNINGS: Warning for sexual situations, slightly dubious consent and violence (combat/fighting/interrogations).
This chapter picks up after the events of Thor: The Dark World and just before The Avengers: Age of Ultron. The events have remained canon so far, but it will turn AU soon.
(A year later)
Reva was listening to her client as she explained her recurring nightmares to her. It was only their second session and there was much to learn about her still. So far, she had come to know that the poor woman’s nightmares featured a pack of feral dogs chasing her into the darkness.
Involuntarily, Reva compared them to her own. Hers featured a feral space Viking. The nightmares showed him as angry and spiteful, wicked and seductive, cunning and calculating, all at the same time. Sometimes she was being murdered, and sometimes, seduced. She always woke up in panic, with sweat running down her back.
A/N my first fic so I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think and part 2 will be coming soon
You walked into the building. A grin shone on your face as you saw Sam,
who was accompanied by a broad blonde male.
Sam had just finished asking him a question, “What makes you happy?”
“I don’t know” the blonde man replied.
You knew exactly who it was. As an ex-army Sargent, this man was no
mystery to you. You walked up to Sam and gave him a sideways hug. He was your
best friend and partner in crime after all.
“Hey Sammy, how was the meeting?” you smile up at him and he groans at
your nickname for him. He hates it.
“It went well, actually. Seems like a lot of people are making a lot of
progress.” Ever since Sam and you retired from the army, you have both taken a
step towards making veterans of war feel safer post deployment. Sam took a
group class where people were able to open up about experiences and learn that
they were not alone. You, however, took a more personal approach. Before
joining the army you got a Masters in Psychology, which you now use for
counseling those who have deeper and harder post-traumatic stress issues.
“Oh and (Y/N) this is-“
“Steve Rodgers,” the blonde man cut in, holding out his hand. You smiled
and shook it.
“Nice to meet you Captain,” you said smiling. He nodded his head
graciously as your arms both returned to their sides.
“(Y/N) was deployed to Afghanistan too. We were both paratroopers”
“The unstoppable duo, we were.” You said. Steve looked at you surprised.
Most people did when you mentioned you were in the army. People believed that
you were to small and innocent to defend yourself and saw you as a brains kinda
person more than a muscles one. Which was true, you did prefer to use your
intelligence to navigate situations, but you weren’t afraid to gun down enemies
and pack a punch (which could very easily knock out your average sized guy).
Sam never thought this about you, he always believed that you were the stronger
of the two, but of course you thought that he was the most incredible person in
the world. Your friendship ran deep, so deep you may as well be siblings. Steve
realized the face he had made and opened his mouth to apologise, but before he
could get the words out you silenced him by raising a hand.
“Don’t,” you said, “you’re not the first one to have that reaction. It’s
fine really, I know what I can do, as long as I know my limits, it’s fine with
At this statement Steve began to laugh.
“What?” you questioned, becoming slightly offended. He stopped laughing,
noticing your edginess, he shook his head as he said,
“Oh nothing, you just remind me of someone,” his eyes showing hidden
sadness. He excused himself from the conversation, saying he has somewhere to
be and stalked off. You turned to Sam with a slightly confused look. When you
met his face he was smiling.
“What now?” you huffed.
“That means it’s Gilmore Girls time, it starts in 15 minutes!” you
rolled your eyes at him. “I’ll run to the store and get some snacks, you go
home, get the beer, set up the TV and I’ll see you there in 10 minutes?” he
said walking away. You laughed, nodding. You exited the building muttering
about whether or not you and Sam had accidently pulled a freaky Friday and that
he was actually the girl.
You woke up early that morning. When you walked past his room, Sam wasn’t
around so you had figured he had gone for a run. You made your way to the
kitchen and began making breakfast. You sat down on the couch, the sound of
bacon crackling in the background as Sam came home. You turned to greet him and
saw that he was drinking straight from the juice bottle. Just as you were about
to scold him, there was a knock at the door.
“Saved by the bell this time my friend,” you stated, heading towards the
front door. As you hoisted up the blinds, there stood Captain America and a redheaded
girl, covered in dirt, looking exhausted. You opened the door, looking at them
“I’m sorry about this. We need a place to lay low..”
“Everyone we know is trying to kill us.” The redheaded girl spoke in a
“Not everyone,” Sam had appeared behind you, he lead the two into the
living room as you stepped out of their way. You closed the door looking
outside for any danger. You closed the blinds again for good measure. You led
the two upstairs towards the en suite attached to Sam’s room. You gave them
some towels and headed back down stairs.
You and Sam cooked breakfast and when it was done you went to fetch the
two. You reached the door and all you could hear was hushed whispering. You
knocked on the door and they both spun around.
“Sorry for interrupting but we made breakfast,” you smiled at them. Sam
spoke form behind you,
“You know, if you guys eat that sort of thing.” You rolled your eyes at
him and smacked his arm as you made your way downstairs, the redhead following
behind you. When you reached the kitchen you asked her what she wanted to
drink. She said water.
“I’m Natasha by the way.”
“(Y/N)” You replied smiling at the mysterious girl, grabbing some cold
water from the fridge.
“Thank you for letting me borrow some clothes.”
“It’s no problem. I’m sorry if they’re too big, I was unaware I would
ever have to share my clothes with someone who has such a rockin’ body,” you
laughed, handing her the glass of water. She laughed too.
Don’t be ridiculous. They’re fine.” Little did you know, Natasha had
never really had many girl-fueled conversations like this. She was either in
the KGB or mainly surrounded by men at SHEILD, she had never really had any
close girl friends. But she thought that maybe you could be an exception. You
thought that Natasha wasn’t trustworthy, but you did trust her. You got a
particular vibe from her that you didn’t know how to describe. But you
definitely liked her. Sam and Steve finally made their way down stairs. You
smiled at them as they grabbed their plates from the bench, asking them what
they would like to drink. They both replied that anything was fine so you got
two glasses out ready to fill them with juice. As you were preparing them their
drinks Natasha leaned over to you.
“So are you and Sam…” she trailed off, looking between the two of you.
“Huh? Oh! No, no no!” you said finally getting what she was hinting at.
She thought you two were together. Many people thought you two were together
and to be completely honest, it did look a lot like it. You lived together,
were always together, always hanging off one another, but you thought of him as
brother. You both thought that you had been through too much together during
your Afghanistan tours to ruin it with a relationship.
“Don’t be, you’re not the first,” you exaggerated your tone of voice
making her laugh. You joined the boys at the dining table.
“So, the question is, who at
S.H.I.E.L.D. could launch a domestic missile strike?” Natasha asked. The
realization hit Steve.
“Pierce,” he said solemnly
“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the
“It’s always the way,” you added sarcastically, shoving some bacon into
“But he’s not working alone. Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”
“So was Jasper Sitwell.”
Steve sighed, “So, the real question is, how do the two most wanted
people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?” You and
Sam made eye contact across the room. You nodded at him and he reached into the
top drawer, pulling out a file.
“The answer is you don’t,” you said as Sam placed the file in front the
“What’s this?” Steve questioned, examining the file.
“Call it a resume”
“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you?” Nat
pointed between you and Sam, “You didn’t say they were Pararescue.” She passed
the file to back o Steve.
“Is this Riley?” Steve said, eyes growing sympathetic.
“Yeah,” you answered. Riley may have been Sam’s main partner but he was
still a good friend of yours. You were honored to have taken his place after he
was gunned down. You and Sam were the only two left of the division.
“I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What
did you use? A stealth chute?” Natasha asked. You shook her head at her
“These,” Sam said handing them the EXO-7 FALCON file.
“I thought you said you were pilots,” Steve asked.
“I never said pilot,” Sam chuckled.
“I can’t ask you two to do this. You got out for good reasons.”
“Dude, Captain America needs our help.” Sam said.
“Ain’t no better reason to get back in,” you smirked at him.
“Where can we get our hands on one of these things?” Steve asked.
“The last two are at Fort Meade. Behind three guarded gates and a
12-inch steel wall.” You said looking at them desperately.
Steve and Natasha turned to each other and shrugged.
“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
You grab the falling figure’s right arm as Sam grabbed their left. We
accelerated up, throwing the man back on the roof next to Natasha and Steve who
I could hear talking about girls. Honestly those two. Sam and I landed on the
roof, closing our packs.
“Zola’s algorithm is a program for choosing insight’s targets.” Sitwell
“A TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defence, a high school
Valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a
threat to HYDRA. Now, or in the future,” he said.
“The future? How would it know?” You asked, baffled by even the thought.
The man laughed,
“How could it not. The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA
how to read it.” After no response from the group he continued, “Your bank
records, medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT
scores!” This was not good. “Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s past to
predict their future.”
“And what then?” Steve asked.
“Oh my god. Pierce is gonna kill me.” The man trembled.
“Honey, that’s the least of your problems now.” You whispered
“What then?” Steve pressed. Sam aggressively grabbed the man’s suit,
forcing him to answer.
“Then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few
million at a time.”
[Reader Replacement Key: “Moira” - Your first name]
The burning had
quickly turned into a chilling cold. It cut through her skin and penetrated her
bones with a repugnant dampness she could not escape. Moira’s torso was soaked
with blood, the heavy liquid seeping out around the gloved fingers as she pressed
forcefully into the wound. She was losing precious drops with every step
forward in Cassian’s arms.
“My father, he was… a doctor,” she had
told him. “His office… there’s still med
supplies in it.”
It had been all he
needed to hear before scooping her up and taking off back towards the compound -
towards her childhood home. She could tell he was moving as fast as he could
but the pain was substantial and made every moment drag.
“You’re a kriffing
idiot,” he huffed, rounding a bend of trees. “You know that? Why did you do
She knew he was not searching
for a response; that he was just venting his own frustrations with the
situation, but she did not care. “I’ve never been – been shot before. Now I
can… check it off… the list.”
Moira saw him flash
a look down at her in the darkness, though she could not say whether it was out
of incredulity or irritation.
there,” he told her, tone just as resolute. “Hold on.”
she breathed. “You should make sure… Kaytoo is – is getting them.”
He made a noise that
very nearly sounded like laughter if not irater. “You don’t get shot and then
start giving orders,” he murmured through his teeth. “That’s not how it works,
She wanted to
respond but found her energy for such things quickly depleting. She settled for
a thin smile. Her eyelids were heavy as she rested her head against Cassian’s
arm. Darkness was very nearly on her when she was shaken back awake.
“Hey, Moira, stay
with me. We’re here, okay? We’re here,” his voice was husky and apprehensive.
She felt herself dip in his arms as he moved to type in the security code. And
for at least a few moments, the sudden brightness of her home was jarring
enough to keep her eyes open.
“Where?” Cassian demanded.
“Off my parents…
room,” she pointed weakly ahead of them. “In – in the back.”
Cassian made off in
that direction, pounding the opening mechanism with his elbow, lights switching
on as they entered. The bedroom was less meticulous than the other rooms he had
seen, but still had the edge of perfect preservation. Carefully, he set Moira
down on the right side of the master bed. His eyes scanned the three additional
doorways in the bedroom before following her gaze to the one closest to him.
“There… should be
bacta patches… and Nyex, behind his – the desk,” she muttered.
pressure on it!” Cassian hissed, taking off through the doorway and into her
The room was an
overwhelming mess. Stacks of datapads and papers and books towered about the small
room, each occasionally topped with varying pieces of medical equipment or
crumpled notes. It was dark, seemingly only ever lit by a manual light that was
too far out of Cassian’s way to bother with. He pushed through the jumble towards
the large desk in the corner of the room, flinging open the set of cabinets
mounted to the back wall. There were enough medical supplies within it to run a
small practice. Cassian focused on what he needed, his eyes quickly finding
their way to the familiar items. He grabbed the patches, the pain killer, an
antiseptic, and a few other miscellaneous medicines before rushing back to
She was dreadfully
pale but she was still awake. Cassian sat down beside her on the bed, his legs
hanging over the side as he looked over her. Moira’s eyes were wide and fearful
as she gazed up at him; expression so raw and helpless that it was almost made
him feel sick. With a careful acknowledgement, he removed her quivering hands
from the wound, examining it for the first time in good light. The dark fabric
of her shirt had frayed around it, leaving the wide and searing red area
exposed. Thankfully the shot had missed the most sensitive organs, falling just
beside her bellybutton. Cassian could only hope that it was not so deep as to
unearth her intestinal track. The sudden image of a fellow Resistance spy
laying disemboweled on cold steel flashed into his mind and Cassian did his
best to suppress the memory. He would feel better once he removed the excess of
blood and got a good look.
With adept hands, he
took the remaining fabric of her shirt and ripped it open to the wound, rolling
up what was left of it just beneath her breasts. He reached quickly for the
stack of bacta patches, using the first just to soak up blood from the area –
and there was a lot. But as the liquid cleared, he let out a breath. It was
“It looks mostly
superficial,” he murmured, still analyzing the lesion. “Meant to wound, not to
kill. I should be able to patch it up.”
There was the
smallest, suffocated whimper as he took to it again. His eyes shot up to Moira
who seemed near tears and rightfully terrified, blood dripping from her hands
as she held them awkwardly before her.
Cassian frowned at
the sad site, dropping the supplies to her side for just a moment. “Hey, it’s
going to be okay,” he cooed. Cassian effortlessly slipped off the bloodied
gloves from her hands and pushed Moira’s arms down to her sides, forcing her to
relax. He then reached up towards her face and brushed away the wisps that had
fallen into her eyes; his tenderness almost a surprise to him. He continued,
moving to slide his hand behind her head, gently intertwining his fingers with
her hair and rubbing a few small circles into her temple with his thumb. “It’s
going to be okay,” he repeated to her, tone resilient and low like a prayer.
“I’m going to take care of you. I owe you that much, don’t I?”
It was a moment
before she gave him one of the weakest of smiles he had ever seen. But it was a
himself to be caught up by his desire to comfort her for a moment more before remembering
the Nyex. He quickly pulled away and fumbled the hypo-syringe into his hand
while grasping one of her bloodied arms in his other. His eyes quickly found
the ideal injection site in her prominent vein and Cassian rubbed the
antiseptic quickly over spot. The needle was steady in his hand.
“This should help
the pain,” Cassian he told her before slowly injecting the liquid into her
murmured. “I know… what Nyex does.”
the needle to floor and flickered his eyes back up to her for just a moment. He
shook his head before returning to the wound.
Smug as her words
were, they made Cassian feel better. If Moira was talking back to him, even
just slightly, it had to be a good sign.
After a thorough and
deep coat of antiseptic that seemed more painful than the wound itself, he started
layering the bacta bandages. Cassian let the blood soak through each layer and
absorb the medicine before adding another. It was an intricate process but one
that he had seen succeed on other shallow wounds. At first, blood fully consumed each bandage;
then, slowly, it began to ease up.
“Oh… that’s right.”
Cassian looked up
from his work to meet eyes with a dazed Moira.
“I just forgot how
this stuff makes you feel,” she mumbled, her voice an offset monotone.
As he studied her
face more thoroughly, Cassian realized the medicine was hitting her hard. The
look of fear and anxiety had been replaced by a far more enigmatic expression. She
was staring at him, plump lips just slightly agape, and a certain child-like
wonder in her dilated eyes. The all-at-once dose he had given her was by no
means dangerous, but it was definitely a lot more potent. It was normally
distributed at intervals using an IV, but they had not had the time for that. It
seemed Moira would just have to deal with the sudden high; Cassian thought it
was probably the best thing to happen to her all day.
He heaved a relieved
but exhausted chuckle. “So you’re feeling pretty great just about now, eh?”
She grinned back at
him. “Yes, Captain.”
Cassian could not
deny that the juxtaposition was peculiar; seeing her so suddenly pleasant after
such a panicked couple of minutes was a bit shocking. But it brought a genuine
smile to his face nonetheless. “I’m glad.”
Pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Tags: Aimless Fluff, Pining, Pre-Relationship but Feelings Incoming Word Count: 2400 Summary:
She feels horrible and lost and alone, and the first person from her old life who didn’t turn her away or give her the runaround is Garrus, so she’s latched onto him like…like a puppy who’s been abandoned too many times and finally gets a nice dinner, or something. Nothing more to it than that depressing analogy. Also on AO3. A direct follow-up to Misfire.
wakes up without a hangover—Garrus, with his lack of excessive cybernetics, is
probably not so lucky—and has a whole new set of problems to deal with.
She still feels the weight of his
hand on her shoulder, the texture of his skin discernable around the strap of
her tank top. It completely fizzled her train of thought, stopping one
existential crisis and starting another, one that she’s been pushing down with
a rising panic for the last few weeks. Now, though, it appears to have gained
enough momentum that she can’t stop it.
She presses her hand to that spot
on her shoulder, the heel of her palm digging in just above her collarbone. Her
heartbeat climbs, audible, frantic.
At least she can take some comfort
in knowing that Cerberus did not put this in her head. She knows two things for
sure about Cerberus; the first is that they hate aliens, and the second is that
they have no sense of humor. No, this one’s all on her.
It was dark and cold. But the coldness seemed almost comforting in a sense. There were thick warm blanket wrapped around her as well as a strong arm pulled over her.
Her eyes slowly opened as they adjusted to the dark room. It wasn’t her room, nor the generals.
Her mind started to fill with the sinful acts from the night before. Her eyes darted down to the tall handsome man next to her, the one who’s just as guilty as her.
Kylo Ren, the Knight of Ren, the commander, the one who she slept with the night before. His dark hair was tousled as spread out as he slept. He looked so peaceful, it was almost hard to believe who he really was. His large frame seemed to take up most of the bed but he still chose to hold her close to him. (Y/n) quickly got out the bed looking for her close. This was a mistake. It was never suppose to happen, she was with Hux.
Another hour later, everyone else in first class is asleep,most of them snoring lightly. The
inflight movie is still playing on the individual screens on the back of the
seat in front of her, some stupid rom-com that’s all cliché and flirtation and
she can’t take it. Hiccup is walking
down the aisle from the cockpit and she watches him a little too closely.