Crash Landing pt 2
“Please tell me you know these two.” You said tiredly to Skye, not even bothering to put your bat away anymore.
“Jemma!” she exclaimed in surprise.
The young woman put on a mildly scolding expression for about a second before diving in for a hug. You pushed back the pang of jealousy; Skye was allowed to have friends beside you. You had friends other than her. Like your lawyers. And the amnesiac ex-assassin hiding out in your apartment.
“Agent Coulson… But …you died?” Steve uttered, which surprised you in turn. The man cleared his throat awkwardly and the tips of his ears turned an interesting shade of red. You barely had the time to exchange questioning glances with anyone at all before James spoke up, effectively though probably unintentionally drawing all attention back to himself.
“Oh wow Steven, dying and then coming back to life? What a crazy, unprecedented happenstance in your life.”
There he was again, the sarcastic little shit you’d grown so fond of, even though at the moment it was all façade. In fact, James looked and sounded just about as done with the situation as you felt, rubbing his hand over his eyes tiredly. You sat back down heavily in the seat next to him, suddenly exhausted to the bone. Agent Coulson’s face had slipped for a moment before he reined his expression in again. Nevertheless one could see the pieces clicking into place in his mind.
“Sergeant Barnes…?” he eventually chanced, hesitant.
“That’s what the evidence points to.” James retorted dryly, barely able to hold eye contact.
“I thought you’d died.”
“Didn’t we all.”
“And you are…” Coulson trailed off while looking at the gleaning silver hand resting on the table.
“I was as surprised as you are.” James met the other man’s eyes again now, his gaze challenging for a moment before that bone deep exhaustion returned. He slumped back in his chair, his right hand searching for yours under the table and interlacing your fingers. The two SHIELD people were still standing in your apartment like forgotten petitioners. Clearly, this could not stand, even at what was probably the world’s most awkward impromptu dinner party.
“You know where the extra chairs are.” You said to Skye, waving vaguely. The feeling of nausea and abject panic had returned and for a moment, you felt like just throwing out the lot of them and curl up on the couch with James and Becky to watch a movie and pretend like none of this was happening. A comedy would be best, something genuinely silly to take your minds off all of this. James looked like he’d be up for the idea should you suggest it, but then again HYDRA wasn’t likely to respect your wishes for peace and quiet, so if they were really anywhere as close as Skye had said, you’d need to do the responsible adult thing and face this now.
Sam helped Skye with the simple fold out chairs, and the tiramisu, so soon enough everyone was settled with a seat and a dish. The scene wasn’t made any less surreal for the piercing stare Steve directed at the man named Coulson.
“This is delicious, Miss _______.” The young woman, Jemma, said politely into the tense silence.
“Thank you. Maybe if I offered these HYDRA people some they’ll go away. Or do you think they’re above bribery?”
She looked taken slightly aback at your tone, making you regret the words that had come out harsher than intended. She’d only tried to be nice after all.
“Sorry,” you muttered, “It’s been a trying evening.”
“Well, the good news is that as far as we can tell, HYDRA hasn’t yet caught wind of Sergeant Barnes’ whereabouts, and they’re currently spread too thin to organize an offensive. The two scouts who were tracking Captain Rogers could be intercepted before making contact and are currently being detained by members of my team.” Coulson outlined the situation. You allowed yourself a breath of relief, but James was still tense next to you.
“You don’t need a lot of people for an abduction, or even an assassination.” He remarked glumly, his dessert largely untouched.
“True, but for now we’re one step ahead. We have the upper hand.” Skye said emphatically, shooting Coulson a pleading look.
“We have to act fast. Time is of the essence.” Steve stated, deciding to put his misgivings about SHIELD on the back burner. “I don’t think staying here is an option.”
“I’ll die before I ever go back to them.” James muttered under his breath, his tone chilling. He was completely serious; there could be no doubt about that. There were a few gaping mouths in response.
“That won’t be necessary.” Jemma said clippedly before anyone else could muster up the presence of mind to reply, but you thought you saw Coulson nod absently.
“So, how’re we going to spin this?” Sam was asking the sensible questions. You shot him an appreciative look, even managing a hint of a grateful smile. James gripped your hand tightly under the table, giving no other outward sign of his distress. Coulson shifted and put his dish down on the table with deliberation, collecting his thoughts.
“Obviously this is not ideal,” he began, “We’re caught off guard, but it’s no use complaining about that now. We’ll have to cobble something together; I need to make some calls. Do you think Agent Carter would be willing to help some more?” He directed the question at Sam and Steve, who nodded hesitantly, Steve already pulling out his phone.
“Won’t know if we don’t ask.”
Coulson nodded slowly, gears turning in his head. You didn’t feel as reassured by this display of confident competence as you would have liked to be, but what can you do. Skye shifted closer and caught your free hand, squeezing it. That helped a bit.
“In any case you might want to pack a few things.” Coulson said mostly to James, who perked up and nodded hesitantly, looking to you for you didn’t even know what, exactly. You told him to go ahead; you’d follow in a moment. He rose slowly, reluctance written all over his face. You waited until the door of your bedroom clicked shut behind him and Steve had put down his phone again before rounding in on the agent.
“Where are you gonna take him?” Not that you actually expected the man to just give up sensitive information about a secret base, but you had to try.
“So I take it you don’t intend to accompany us there?”
You shook your head, having sobered up significantly during the last half hour.
“It’ll be too suspicious if I just vanish.” You theorized and Coulson nodded while everyone else just gaped at you, completely scandalized. That irked you. It’s not like you were doing this for selfish reasons, you told yourself.
“None of you have any right to judge me.” You declared, sounding far more confident than you felt, because in truth you were absolutely terrified. You deflated a bit, rubbing your temple against the headache growing there. “This is between me and him.”
You could still feel the judgmental looks and decided that you didn’t care. Who’d have thought that a youth spent hearing different variations of the term ‘dumpster baby’ would result in being immune to Captain America’s Stare of Disapproval? Though you were not looking forward to the conversation you’d have to have with James. Even your skin was only so thick.
“It’s called the Playground. I cannot disclose the location but it’s a former SSR base. Director Fury had it remodeled and updated and it now functions as the headquarters for who and what’s left of SHIELD. Sergeant Barnes will be as safe there as he can possibly be, I promise you this.”
“What about alternatives? That can’t be the only option?” Steve said hotly, just this side of bristling. You guessed he’d rather be in control himself instead of handing James off to the same people who didn’t notice that HYDRA was there under their very noses.
“And where would that be, Captain? You no longer have a permanent residence. Mr Wilson’s place is no different than here. Stark’s place in New York? A glass tower in the middle of Manhattan? How long until someone gets wind of Sergeant Barnes’ whereabouts? And you’d have to keep him confined. How well do you expect that to go over? At SHIELD we can offer him protection as well as the chance to help bring down HYDRA.” Coulson argued levelly. Steve still glared but didn’t have any counter-arguments of his own, which he clearly didn’t like. He exchanged a look with Sam, then turned back to Coulson and sighed in very reluctant defeat.
“So, what’s the plan?”
When you made your way into your bedroom, after leaving the rabble in your apartment to scatter and see to preparations for the plan of action you’d outlined together, you found James not packing his meagre belongings but rather sitting on the bed, staring into the middle distance and holding on to Becky who’d fled to the relative safety here after stranger after stranger kept arriving.
“Hey…” you said softly, settling down next to the two and resisting the urge to just fall back and sleep. You were so exhausted. As soon as your body came down from its current adrenaline high you would surely crash, and hard.
“You are not being replaced, you know.”
“Huh?”
James looked at you with a sad smile while you still tried to piece together what he was even talking about. He nodded towards the door and the main room of your apartment that lay beyond it.
“That young woman, Dr Simmons? And no doubt a handful of other people that your friend is working with now. They’re her friends, maybe even something like a family, but she isn’t replacing you.” Becky gave a little meow of protest when James’ hand neglected to rub her belly in order to squeeze yours for a moment. “No one could ever replace you.” He added quietly. You gulped. Great. He wasn’t making this any easier.
“You haven’t packed anything.” You said instead, stalling for time, and badly.
“Hmm, yeah – didn’t wanna go rummaging through your stuff. It’s bad manners. Can’t risk my Ma rising from the dead just to give me a scolding now, can we? Enough to deal with as it is.” He joked weakly. Your answering smile felt fake and brittle, and it fell quickly.
“Let me just get you a bag,” you started up, quickly walking over to search your closet for the old duffel bag you knew was in there somewhere, still stalling. This wasn’t going to get any easier.
You sifted through the mess at the back of your closet for longer than perhaps strictly necessary. The duffel was old but in good condition. You still remembered how you’d packed most of what you owned into it to move away and go to college. You’d felt so guilty back then for leaving Skye behind. She was only one school year below you, but you’d worked so hard for the scholarship that allowed you to go to college in the first place, just like you’d worked hard for everything that you had now.
The bag seemed so much smaller now than it had back then. Though it wasn’t like James had a whole lot to put into it. Your heart constricted, but you forced a smile and stood, handing it over to him.
“I’m sorry it has come to this.” He murmured, absently fiddling with the strap. “All you did was help. I never meant to uproot you.”
Well, this was as good an opening as you were ever going to get.
“I’m staying.”
“…What??”
Oh no, this was bad. Shouting, anger, you could have dealt with, but this disbelief, his voice so small and his eyes wide and uncomprehending – this was horrible. Even Becky looked at you accusingly.
You breathed deeply, exhaling with deliberate slowness.
“Jamie,” you began cautiously, “We both knew this was never a permanent solution. You were sleeping on my couch, for goodness’ sake!” You felt the tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, and wiped at them vehemently. Better to do this the band-aid way, quick and all at once. “You’ll be going with Skye and her people and I’ll stay right here to avoid suspicion. It’s the best way.”
There was a beat of silence wherein his eyes went from raw hurt to cold fury. Becky slunk away with a miserable meow and hid under the sideboard.
“And when was this decided?” he spat, dropping the duffel bag. It landed on the carpeted floor with a soft rustle. You were far too tired for any of this, too scared, too exhausted. A small flame of annoyance kindled in the pit of your stomach, quickly fanning into actual anger that would unload on the next best target.
“You cannot possibly expect me to just drop everything and run. Do you even know how hard I worked for this?” you seethed, making a sweeping gesture around the room.
“Oh well, I am so sorry to be inconveniencing you, Miss ________!” James’ tone was dripping with derision, but it did little to mask the hurt, betrayal and fear underneath. In a different frame of mind you may have been able to handle this better, to remain calm and reasonable and reassuring, but with HYDRA breathing down your neck you panicked. At least you managed not to raise your voice.
“It’s not like that and if you truly think it is, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Just admit it!” he rose, towering over you despite the few feet between you, “Just admit that you regret helping me! I’m sorry to be bringing all this down upon you, but it’s not something I can change, no matter how much I want to!”
“I don’t! I don’t regret anything!” Except falling for you, then maybe this wouldn’t hurt quite as much. “I don’t regret helping you! I would do it all again in a heartbeat, but right now there is a very real threat and I’m allowed to be scared! I’m allowed to be scared…”
Your voice petered out pitifully, ending in a choked sob and now you really were crying. You felt about a miserable as James looked at this point, and as helpless, too. He’s avoiding your eyes, now, instead stooping down to retrieve the duffel bag and starting to randomly shove stuff in there.
“I’ll just go and get you your things from the bathroom.” You hiccup, trying to force down the sobs, trying to keep it together. He’s putting up those walls around himself again and for a moment you wish you could just rewind to that morning, when you had woken up with an arm looped loosely around your waist and his face nuzzled to your neck, warm breath fanning across your skin. You shake the thought forcibly, gathering up toothbrush, shampoo and whatnot, even the damn razor. When you return, he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress again, just like he did when you first came in, except sans cat. You dump the things you gathered into the open duffel unceremoniously, then snatch your ridiculously oversized MIT sweater from its hook on the closet door and stuff it in, too. Even now the bag is only a little over half full.
“_______...” he protests weakly, but you sit down heavily next to him, leaning your head onto his shoulder.
“Hush now, I wish things were different, but they aren’t. I can’t keep you safe anymore, and neither can Steve, for now, but SHIELD can.”
“I don’t want to leave.” He rasps, dropping his head so it rests lightly on yours.
“They’re trying to take down HYDRA. Maybe you could help them; get some of that redemption you’re looking for.” You murmur instead of all the other things you could have said, from empty platitudes to ill-timed confessions. This is not the moment for that. You allow yourself another moment to savor the closeness before you have to say goodbye.
“You’ll be safe?”
You nod mutely, not trusting your voice any more. There’s a good chance you’ll break down into heaving sobs again. Steve and Sam will remain close by, looking out for you in case of any HYDRA activity.
There’s a knock at the door then, jarring you both from the relative if deceitful peace of the moment.
“Yeah?” you croak, moving barely an inch away from James’ comforting warmth. Skye pokes her head in.
“You ready, Sarge?”
James rises by way of an answer, grabbing the bag and stepping past her and collecting the last few odds and ends on his way before zipping the bag up. You can hear the men all talking quietly by the kitchen, no doubt to fill James in on the plan. You shoot Skye a miserable look, and she’s at your side and pulling you into a fierce hug in a heartbeat.
“Promise me to look out for him.” you choke out between dry sobs, clinging to your best friend. It occurs to you that she will be going away again as well, leaving you basically alone.
“And promise me you’ll call.” You amend. She does promise all this and more, comforting you a moment longer until Jemma hesitantly knocks and tells you that they really must be going. The young Englishwoman seemed more embarrassed about that than anything else. Skye gently disentangles herself from you, promising to call as soon as they’ve arrived at that super secret mystery base, turns back at the door to give you one last bone-crushing hug and then she’s gone. You sit a moment, staring into nothing, until a small warm weight settles next to you and big cat eyes are gazing up at you woefully. You sigh and pat her head.
James went through the motions like on autopilot, not really listening closely to the steady stream of forcedly cheerful chatter from the two young women. He’d said a short goodbye to Steve and his friend, apologizing to the latter for throwing him off a flying helicarrier.
“Hell, you wrecked my car, I kicked you in the head, you kicked me off that carrier – as far as first meetings go it’s not ideal, but hey, water under the bridge if you’re game, man.”
They shook hands, and James decided that Sam was probably a pretty decent guy.
And then he was herded towards a nondescript large vehicle and into the back like a child on a day trip. Skye and Jemma squeezed in next to him on the bench while he was introduced to Agents May and Triplett. The latter was charming and the former civil, and too soon they were moving and he looked out the window until your apartment building disappeared from view.