Daybreak
Helicarriers were lifting into the air, spraying hundreds of bullets at Sam Wilson in the sky. He spun around, using his mechanical wings to dodge the bullets and to glide around tall buildings. He tapped his wrists on the sides of his hips and guns unfolded into his hands.
He spotted a man on the deck and aimed the gun, launching himself into the man, feet first. The man was sent flying into a nearby plane, the plane’s wheels dragging, making an irritating noise that echoed into the air.
Sam landed onto the ground, instantly pivoting around to face a soldier behind him. His wings began whirring, pulling him backwards as he shot at the soldier.
“Alright, cap, I’m in,” His eyes landed on a doorway that would be his entrance into the building, taking a step towards the door. He stopped before taking another step, the sound of a near-silent engine catching his attention,
He turned his head as a large jet made its appearance in the sky, “Oh, shit!”
He started running, flipping around as his wings pulled him forward, away from the trailing jet. He minimized his visibility by gliding underneath the wings of grounded jets, skillfully avoiding the spray of bullets that shot around him. Almost to the end of the carrier, he pushed his wings harder to reach the sky.
A missile was launched from somewhere nearby, leaving a tail of smoke behind it as it flew for the jet that he was underneath. The missile made contact with the belly of the plane, causing it to explode and send a force of pressure outwards.
Before he reached the ground, he felt arms grabbing him and shoving him into the surface of the carrier, his wing pack making a terrible screeching noise as it scraped against it.
A blonde soldier was on top of him, holding him down by the straps of his wings and pushing her knee hard into his stomach. Her mouth and nose was covered by a black mask with three dark red stars on it, her eyes were a steel blue and the white was bloodshot red that clashed bright against the blackness of her clothing. Her blonde hair was done in one long, thick braid, keeping her hair out of reach from her opponents. Dark shadows seemed to sprout from her back like wings, extended up and slightly out, like a dragon defending its territory.
She wore a black compression shirt with a silver buckle harness over it that holstered a gun between her wings and black tight pants that had two gun holsters on her thighs, along with a combat belt that had pouches filled with bullets and straps that held a collection of knives.
Sam’s eyes widened, “There’s another soldier on the field!” he said quickly into his comm.
The soldier’s left arm reared up and sent a punch flying to his head, but he lifted his arm up and redirected the punch to the side, only slightly missing him due to the difference in their strength.
“Who is it?” Natasha’s voice rang into the comm.
She must be done with her part of the mission, Sam thought.
He powered up his wings, flying himself backwards to try and get away from her death grip. But the soldier dug the heels of her boots into the surface, ripping up the ground as he dragged her forward.
The grip caught and she held him mid-air, his wings whirring loudly as they tried, but failed to, get away. Her wings extended out and flapped powerfully, yanking him forwards with her, then forcing their bodies to move, turned around completely then threw him back onto the ground in front of her.
Sam skidded on the platform yet again, his wings making a whining sound as they powered up for him to fly away, “I’m sorry, is that a girl?”
“If you’re insinuating that girls can’t fight, Wilson-”
“No, I meant-” The soldier upholstered her gun from between her wings and lifted it up in an aim, “Shit.”
A spray of bullets followed him as he folded his wings around himself like a shield and dived off the side of the carrier. The bullets stopped but he heard the beating of wings behind him, following closely.
“I meant,” he rounded hanging parts of the bottom of the carrier to try and shake her off his tail, “I’m pretty sure it’s the same girl from yesterday.”
“You mean the one that Steve buried?” Natasha questioned incredulously.
“8 minutes cap,” Hill said into Sam’s ear.
“On it,” Steve breathed heavily into the comm, “How’s she still alive? Or able to fight at this point.”
The woman followed, determined to not lose him, gaining speed and gaining on him, Sam groaned and pushed his whining wings faster, praying they wouldn’t blow up.
“Who knows, but she’s here and she’s not messing around,” Sam pointed out.
He flipped upside down, upholstering his guns, and began to shoot at the soldier behind him. She dove downwards the bullets blocked by her wings, which flinched at the impact.
Sam flipped back over, and glided towards the giant glass dome that hung lowly from the carrier that was continually flying upwards.
His wings were growing hotter now, the damage that the soldier had inflicted on them taking a toll.
He reached the dome, close enough to touch the surface of it, and began to fiddle with the grenade he had as backup to open it up. He tapped a few buttons and stuck the bomb onto the surface, preparing to press the button.
He was pushed into the glass, and the bomb, as the Soldier flew back up from below him and crashed into his body.
The glass rained around them, like water droplets that reflected light like rainbow prisms.
She had her arms around his middle, wings folded against her back while he took the impact and his wings folded in as well, to limit the damage that would be levied.
Their bodies slammed into the metal walkway, the railing bending and becoming distorted at the impact.
A loud crash echoed throughout the dome and vibrations shook the walkway. Sam rolled away, towards the center where he needed to disrupt the protocol.
He placed his palms on the cold metal and looked up at the soldier, who was standing up with a hand on the platform to stabilize herself.
He swallowed thickly and pushed himself up slowly, treating her as if she reacted to movement.
She rolled her shoulders, her wings shuttering at the movement, then dissipating into thin air as if they were never there.
Sam was fully standing, staring at the woman, waiting for her to make the first move.
He understood he didn’t have the strength or skill set that this soldier had attained, but he needed to get her distracted so he could do what he was supposed to.
The soldier understood she had a heavy advantage over this man, but with the collar that hung heavy around her neck, it made it more physical than powerful.
When Sam shot a glance backwards, towards the center, the soldier reacted. She tore the metal railing that stuck up at an odd angle and through it at him like a spear.
He moved to the side, the spear landing only a few centimeters away from where he now stood.
He lifted his wrist to his mouth, “Hill, I’m going to need a distraction.”
“Copy, Wilson, one’s already enroute to your location.”
The soldier upholstered one of her handguns and pointed it at the man, unloading her magazine at him. His wings unfolded from the pack and formed into a shield, the bullets bouncing off the metal in opposite directions.
Whirring was heard to the right of the soldier, she looked over and saw a quinjet flying through the gaping hole she had formed with Sam’s body, two machine guns on the front began spinning and whining with power.
Shadows quickly gathered from the ground and shaped into a inky-black, solid wave that was used as a shield. She lifted her hands to pull the shadows into its shape and crouched down behind it.
Sam moved, spinning around on his heel and running to the center of the dome to the computer.
The soldier upholstered a knife from her boot and stood up, readying to run. The quinjet flew overhead, and she took off. She jumped onto a piece of railing that was still intact and launched herself over the edge of the platform.
The jet shuttered as her body came in contact with it, and the pilot tilted to the left, causing her to slide downwards.
She stabbed the knife into the metal, sparks shot and smoke billowed from the wires she cut, a shock coursed through her body and she felt her chest tighten and her stomach drop. She forced herself to continue moving, sticking her metal hand into the hole her dagger made and ripping it open.
Beeping and yelling was heard inside the jet as she ruined the wires so they were free falling downwards. The plane lurched forwards, its nose pointing to the water below them.
The soldier scaled the top of the jet, then manipulated her shadows to rip open a gaping hole in the side of the body. A man flew out, flailing and screaming, fruitlessly begging for help and praying.
The soldier lowered herself slowly into the plane, and a man immediately jumped to attack. He aimed his gun at her head, body facing right as he pointed his face and arm to her, legs spread out.
She grabbed the man’s wrist with her left hand and pointed it away from her, the blast making her ear pound and ring. Without hesitating, she punched his outstretched elbow and took the handgun from his grip. She quickly cocked the gun and shot him in his right knee, sending him to kneel onto the floor.
He screamed and grabbed his knee, but only had to feel it for a second before the soldier spun behind him and shot the back of his head, brain matter and blood flying through his forehead and out the ruptured wall in the plane. She placed her foot on the body’s back, still kneeled, and shoved him out into the river below.
A screaming sounded behind her, and she spun around, grabbing a woman’s arm that was holding a knife.
She kicked the outside of the woman’s right knee, causing her to buckle down to the ground. She whirled, reacting to the vibration of footsteps, swinging her leg to the man behind her. Her calf connected to his ribs, sending him into the dismembered wall.
He screamed as he was impaled on the metal sticking out of the wall, and the soldier looked back at the woman below her that was trying to stand up.
The soldier’s knee launched up, cracking the woman’s jaw and sending her sprawling to the ground. Her loud screech filled the plane, tears escaping from the corner of her eyes. The blonde lifted her leg again, and stomped on the woman’s head.
She felt a satisfying crunch underneath her foot; bright red blood and chucks splaying all over the floor. She lifted her now blood stained, chunk-covered boot and looked up to the pilot who was staring, mortified, at the woman’s depressed skull.
He looked up, connecting eyes with the soldier. His hazel eyes were shaking and his face took on a greenish tint as he took in the scene.
The soldier took a breath, then reached down to the ground, grabbing the man's gun she had taken earlier. Whispers and mumbles seemed to fill her head as she lifted herself, her loose blonde hair falling over her red-dotted face.
She lifted her gun and cocked it, “Please-”
A revirtabating gunshot cut off the rest of his pleas. The gun was dropped from her hand, the whispers and mumbles gone.
She looked to her right, seeing the impaled man had disappeared, most likely taken by the high speed winds.
She gathered the shadows, and her leather wings sprouted from her back once more.
The soldier leapt out of the jet as it crashed into the river, spinning upwards mid-air.
Sam finished typing into the keyboard. He put away what he was doing, yelling “Bravo lock!” at Hill on his comm.
His wings extended and he jumped off the railing, his wings catching him and letting him glide out of the glass dome. He flew out from underneath the carrier and prepared to go meet back up with Natasha and Steve.
A huge splash below him caught his eyes, and he watched as a quinjet, the same one that had distracted the soldier, crashed into the water.
He cursed to himself, “Anything on this soldier, Romanoff?”
He was met with silence, until Natasha’s voice filled his ear, “No name. Only call signs. It’s like she’s a myth.”
She kept it short, probably only skimming the text as she continued her previous task.
“Call signs?”
“Stories call her смерть.”
“Which is?”
“Death.”
“Comforting.”
“I figured so.”
He caught sight of a figure shadowing below him as he glided, it was the soldier. He groaned to himself and veered to the left, she followed.
He tapped the gun to his side, upgrading it to become more powerful, and flew towards a helicarrier. He flew upwards and over the entrance, folding his wings inward and falling a couple of feet onto the platform. He rolled to absorb the fall, turning around into a crouch, pointing his guns at where he just came from, waiting for the soldier to appear.
After a few tense breaths and heartbeats, a pair of leathery wings connected to a woman’s body appeared high overhead. Sam shot at her, the blast from the upgraded gun landing on its mark, her wing.
Her wings pulled in instinctively, black shadows splaying from her wings, forming a rip in the leather. Her body began hurdling downwards toward the surface of the carrier, wings extended out, painting the exact portrait of a fallen angel.
Sam’s brain slowly processed what he had just done, her wings hadn’t gotten hurt from any of his other shots before.
Why was this one different?
He holstered his gun and his wings extended up, flying to meet the woman in the air.
The soldier’s brain was still registering she had gotten shot out the air. Her left wing burned and wouldn’t extend outwards to catch herself from her free fall. She watched as the man she had just fought extended his wings and flew towards her, but she was falling too quickly.
Winter looked up from where he just watched the blonde man fall out of the dome and into the water, confused and hostile.
He caught sight of his partner, the other soldier, free falling through the sky and towards the surface of a carrier. There was another shape, a man, with his arms outstretched and smoke trailing behind him. The asset’s heart throbbed in his throat, he didn’t know what was happening, he couldn’t go help the soldier.
The mental war made him dizzy as he turned back to the water and dove in.
Sam folded his wings and dove, falling faster and reaching his hand out to grasp hers.
The soldier blinked, a confused look crossing over her face. Her head turned to look below her and saw propellers, spinning quickly to get the helicarrier up into the air. She was going to hit them.
She looked back at the man who was saying something above her, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying with the loud wind howling in her ears.
The man’s hand grazed hers, but before he could grab her, she ripped her arm away from his reach. His wings extended again, catching himself just before the soldier came in contact with the engine.
A loud crashing sound echoed over the river, smoke billowing out of the cracked turbine and flames shooting up from some of the others. The carrier lurched down from the force of the woman, and fell faster without the work of the engine.
Sam landed onto the platform, sliding as the ground was now diagonal and shaking. He moved to the edge of the engine and squinted his eyes, coughing as smoke rose into the air.
He couldn’t see anything, the smoke was thick like a smog that coated his lungs and made it even harder to breathe.
The helicarrier shook like an earthquake, causing Sam to lose his footing and have to catch himself on his stomach. He looked down, and saw waves of water flooding the surface of the carrier, quickly making its way up to the engine and himself.
When he stood up again, he had to keep his arms out to keep his balance, wobbling from the unevenness of the platform. By the time he had reached the engine, water was touching his feet, wetting his gear and socks underneath, and flooding the turbine space.
The smoke had slowed and thinned out, making it easier for him to adjust his eyes through. He blinked away the burning in his eyes that the smoke was causing, and squinted to try and make sense of the mess in front of him.
The turbines were in disarray; parts broken and shattered, burnt and charred. The base of the turbines now only had sharp pieces of metal sticking out of it and was smoking. The bottom of the engine had a metal gated net underneath, which was increasing the amount of water that covered the carrier.
He climbed into the engine and began lifting the heavy metal turbines. He shoved the bits around but didn’t see any sign of her.
Maybe she escaped?
A groan a few paces in front of him made him jump and look towards a large, moving piece of turbine. He splashed through the water, which was now up to the middle of his calf, and sidestepped the metal. He let out a deep breath and crouched, placing his hands underneath the metal. He groaned and clenched his jaw, trying to lift the metal off of the woman’s body.
He finally lifted the metal off enough to see the blonde soldier on her side, wings gone and body curled into itself like a child sleeping. Her face was pinched in discomfort but she was out, unconscious from the fall.
The metal made a loud slam and ringing noise as it landed on the other scraps. Same quickly moved to her side and put his hand on her now wet cheek. Her whole body was soaked, her hair taking on a darker color as it got wet.
He touched two fingers to her neck and felt for her pulse; she had a slow, steady pounding. He let out a breath of relief and let go of her head. He secured his guns and wrapped his arms underneath her, lifting her out of the water and extending his wings.
The wings powered up and he flew upwards, holding the girl tightly to his chest like he had done with his nephews when they were younger.
He flew around, searching for Steve and Natasha. He saw both of them, sitting on the bay of the river; Natasha was dry and had disposed of her cover’s clothing, now donning her skin tight suit, while Steve was absolutely soaked. His blonde hair had laid limp, sticking to his forehead, and his suit was dripping with the river water. Both of them were watching the carriers drown in the river, neither of them saying a word.
They looked up as Sam dropped onto the sand, bearing the woman in his arms. Natasha blinked and looked questioningly at him, while Steve just stared at the girl, hurt flashing in his eyes.
Sam gently laid her down on the ground, and cut the soaked mask off her face. Her body seemed to gasp for air, her blue tinted lips slightly parted and eyebrows pinched together.
“Tony’s going to kill you.”
Sam looked up to Natasha, and smiled wanly, shrugging.
The smile slipped off his lips sadly as he looked at Steve, whose head hung and shoulders drooped, “He ran off.”
Steve said nothing, but the silence was enough.
Sam sighed, “I’m sorry, man.”
Steve lifted his head and straightened his back automatically, “Speaking of Stark, we should get a ride. Since all of them are currently in the river.”
He looked over and saw the wing of one of the quinjets slowly sinking into the water. Natasha nodded and pulled out her dry phone, dialing the phone number.
“Of course I have to do everything for you boys,” she said as she lifted the phone to her ear.
The quinjet lifted off into the sky with a quiet whirring noise. Hill walked up to the front where Tony Stark was and mumbled something, earning herself an unsure look from the man.
He shrugged, “You break it, you buy it.” With that, he stood up and walked into the pit where Sam laid the limp woman onto the raised cot gently.
Tony had jet black hair that stuck up in every direction, sunglasses on his face that covered his eyes, and wore black jeans and a black long sleeve shirt. His arc reactor shining brightly in the center of his chest, drawing the eyes of people who weren’t used to it.
He looked at Steve, who was drier than he was earlier but still soaked to the bone; then to Sam, who was waved away by Bruce Banner and whose feet were the only thing soaked; then finally, Natasha, who sat next to Steve and was completely dry. She made eye contact with the man and shook her head, looking toward Steve’s hunched posture.
Bruce Banner had his fingers on the girl's neck, feeling her pulse. He wrote down something then moved on to her breathing, which was short and hollow.
Sam watched from his seat, and analyzed the girl. He realized then, that the soldier looked much younger right now. She didn’t look like a soldier, but much rather, a young woman.
Tony cleared his throat and Sam looked at him, “First of all, who are you, and second of all, what makes you think you can bring a girl onto my jet?”
Sam stood and outstretched a hand to the man, “I’m Sam Wilson.”
Tony looked down at his hand and pursed his lips, “Uh, huh, and the second?”
Sam dropped his arm and took on a defensive stance. He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin slightly, “She needs our help.”
Tony’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Our help? I’m sorry, we’re not a team here. What help can you give her?”
“Stark.”
Tony looked at Natasha and rolled his eyes, “What? It’s not like he’s going to be saving her life.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam amended, stubbornness entering his tone, “But I’m the one that brought her here for your help.”
Tony smiled cockily, “Exactly, so who is she?”
He turned around and looked at the girl; her hair was wet and dirty with sand. Her skin was pale and her lips were slightly parted with a light blue tint to it. Her nose was short and rounded, freckles placed like stars along it and her hollow cheeks. Her eyes were shut, twitching every now and then as if she was having a bad dream. Her clothes hung pretty tight onto her body, showing off her build of muscles on her arms, her stomach, and her legs. Her left hand was a gleaming metal, specks of sand covering it and dark red dried in the joints of her fingers.
Banner murmured an “excuse me” as he moved around Tony and began palpating her ribs and down, feeling for any broken or dislodged bones.
“She’s a hydra soldier,” Tony glanced at Natasha, showing his skepticism, “we think she was brainwashed or something of the sorts.”
“Brainwashed? Hydra’s doing that now?”
“Apparently they’ve been doing it for a while,” Steve noted gruffly. Steve looked up at the girl, “We’re not sure how long she’s been with them.”
Tony blinked and looked back at the girl, or the person who looked like a girl.
“Anything else we know?” He questioned again, Bruce grimaced after he palpated either side of her hips, then wrote it down in his notepad.
“Russian stories call her смерть, or death. That’s all we know.”
Tony shook his head, “She’s a girl, how is she known as 'death'? You're all still here.”
“You weren’t there, Stark,” Steve voiced, “she’s been trained, like Natasha was. She’s not one to be messed with.”
“And somehow the bird man caught her?” Tony turned and looked at Steve with doubt.
“Only because I took out her wings. If I hadn’t-”
Tony held his hand up, closed his eyes, and shook his head, “Wait I’m sorry, let’s go back. Wings?”
Sam nodded and Tony glanced back at the girl.
“Great, we have a pegasus-wannabe or some shit like that.”
Sam shook his head, “They weren’t necessarily real, Stark.”
Tony scoffed, “What does ‘necessarily real’ even mean?”
“It was like they were made from shadows, like it wasn’t actually a part of her, she just made them.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “Yeah, we’ll talk about this later when I don’t feel like throwing you off this jet.”
Sam rolled his eyes and looked to Steve who shrugged and looked away.
My whole body was burning, but nothing hurt worse than my head and my hips.
I opened my mouth slightly to breathe in deeper, cutting it short when a sharp pain erupted in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned quietly, closing my mouth and letting the breath out slowly.
I opened and closed my fists, stretching out the tight ligaments and muscles. I began to open my eyes; the room I laid in was dark, a light blue hue filling the void. I blinked away the haze from my vision, adjusting to the change in setting.
I turned my head to look at my surroundings; it seemed that I was enclosed in a circular cage, but instead of bars, it was a near transparent, light blue wall. I blinked in confusion and moved to sit up, a sharp stabbing pain rocking through my pelvis. I flinched, lifting a hand to hold onto it, hoping to fix the pain.
I set my jaw and groaned as I continued to move myself off the cot I laid in. Inside the cage was nearly bare, there was a toilet in the corner of the place with a button that read “privacy” on it. Outside the cage was a desk and a door, that was it.
I moved to stand up, but the pain in my hip forced me to fall right back down onto my butt which also sent a sharp pain through my legs. A whimper escaped my lips as I squeezed my eyes shut and fisted my hand against my hip.
The door outside the cage creaked open, and I immediately straightened my back and opened my eyes, relaxing my arms as best as I could.
A man strutted in, and smiled, “Goodmorning, sunshine!”
The man had messy black hair, wore oil stained jeans and a brown smeared white shirt. His eyes were brown and his nose was straight, he also had a neatly cut goatee grown.
His smile seemed to be sarcastic and his eyes were tired, his posture straightened when he saw I was awake.
I blinked at him, his smile dropping slightly as he realized I wasn’t going to answer. He looked down at my hand that was resting on my hip, so I moved it away and back onto the bed.
“Doctor says no weight on the legs,” he shrugged, “apparently you fractured your pelvis when you were crushed by the turbine. It should’ve killed you, but only the fracture.”
l glanced down at my pelvis; I felt the tightness of my skin over the inflamed muscles and the dull throb of my bones. My powers should be working on it right now, but depending on how bad it was meant that it could take anywhere from till tomorrow or a week until I can walk normally again.
“Said there was nothing we could do but give you pain killers.”
I looked back up at the man, who was wiping his oil covered hands onto his jeans.
“Do you want something? Food? Painkillers?” He tried again.
I just watched him, waiting for him to do something or for him to tell me why I was here.
Instead he sighed and turned around, “God, it’s like talking to a door.”
The door shut behind him, leaving me in the darkness alone again.
I relaxed again, placing a hand on my hip as I tried to lift myself up again.
I silently wondered if I was still with hydra or if this was somewhere new? It didn’t seem like hydra, it was too high-key.
And if I was right about that, then I needed to leave and to get back home.