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julybreakbingo · 2 months

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Chapter Ten - “The sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness.”

Winter, Greg and Neri do what they do best, with both expected and unexpected results. CW (contains spoilers!); Dead body, canon-typical violence, gun use, graphic violence, risk of MCD, implied sexual violence, human trafficking references.

Prompts used (contains spoilers!);

- “They’re Gaining on Us.”, ‘Aching’ and ‘Carried’– @fandom-free-bingo, Flight Edition; - ‘Lead Me Out of the Dark’ – Bug’s First Bingo; - ‘Human Shield to “I’m Here For You.”’ – @hurtcomfort-bingo; - ‘Happy Tears or Emotionally Numb’ – Pre- @julybreakbingo; - ‘No Good Deed Goes Unpunished’– @badthingshappenbingo; - ‘Hiding an Injury’ – @eclipsingbingo; - ‘Fate Worse Than Death – Eclipsing Bingo (Flash);

- ‘“Do You Trust Me?” – @buckybarnesbingo (B049); - ‘Bucky Barnes’ – @fandombingo; - ‘“This Place Creeps Me Out.” – @anyfandomdarkbingo.

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Boards at the bottom, divider by yours truly <3

We didn’t speak as we retraced steps, hushed footfalls punctuated only by my harsh, ragged breaths. I could feel Greg’s eyes on me, but I kept my gaze firmly ahead, refusing to let him see my pain.

“I wish you’d let me get you out of here first,” he murmured, catching my arm when I stumbled, feet heavy and sluggish.

With a firm, stubborn shake of my head, I crept on. “There isn’t time. The auction has already started – some people might even have begun to leave already. We have to do this now, Greg. I’m fine; I can handle it.”

Despite my words, I could still feel his eyes on me, watching nervously as we reapproached the room where we’d been reunited. He hesitated as his hand met the handle, glancing at me. “I can-”

“It’s fine,” I interrupted softly, shaking my head. “We need to keep moving; let’s just go.”

I saw his throat bob as he swallowed dryly before nodding, leading the way into small room.

My head rested gently on his back as we sidestepped the figure lying prone on the floor. I knew what it was to be faced with your victim when the fog of war had lifted – but the Lieutenant showed no remorse as he glanced at his former crewman, gaze cold but unphased. I followed his eye automatically, taking in the sight of the marine by my feet.

He’d have looked almost peaceful, eyes closed as he lay on the ground – if not for the broken vessels encircling his neck, a violent purple chain of bruises indicating the sailor’s fury as he took his life.

Part of me wished I could feel remorse of my own for yet more loss of life – but the fear I’d felt as he’d led me to be displayed was still far too present, and I felt little more than disgust and disdain as I sidestepped his corpse, eyes raising once more.

He’s caused enough suffering. I won’t let his distract me from this.

Once we had moved beyond the room yet again, it was my turn to lead – relying on hazy, terrified memories of stumbling down these halls, too emotionally numbed to cry.

A distant voice began to filter towards us, and I stiffened instinctively, palms growing clammy at the eager tones of the finning Captain. I glanced at Greg as a quiet growl rumbled in his chest, shaking my head softly. “Not now,” I murmured, squeezing his fingers softly. “We’ll stop him, I swear. But… We need to free them first. Just in case.”

He watched me for a moment, a soft frown pinching his eyebrows, before realisation dawned, earning me a weak nod.

Just in case we don’t make it.

His eyes cast down for a moment, wincing, and he glanced back at Neri. “You don’t have to be here, you know. This isn’t your fight.”

She looked around, her movement slow and gentle. “… This place creeps me out,” she admitted softly, taking in the narrow, dimly lit halls and bare concrete floors with a shudder, before turning her chocolate gaze back to her Captain, a weak smile tugging at her lips. “But with all due respect, Sir… You’re mistaken.” Greg’s head cocked, and she glanced at me briefly. “I’m your first mate. The safety of your crew is my top priority – even more so when I consider the crewmate in question to be my friend. And besides,” she added, sadness creeping into her expression, “there’s innocent animals who need saving. That’s all I ever wanted to do; no matter how dangerous it is.”

He watched her for a moment, thoughtful, before nodding slowly, his gaze shifting back to me. “So… Any idea where we start?”

I shook my head, lips pressed into a hard line. “No clue. But… I need to find my arm, and we only have so much time, so-”

“We’re not splitting up,” Greg interrupted firmly, jaw set, his tone permitting no nonsense. “We’ll find another way. We-”

“-don’t have time,” I finished, offering him a weak, reassuring smile. “Please, Greg. Go with Neri.” He paused, hesitating, and I reached out to squeeze his hand lightly. “Do you trust me?” He nodded slowly, opening his mouth to respond, but I cut him off quickly with a kiss to his cheek. “Go. We don’t have time to argue. Meet me back here when you’re done, if you can.”

“And if you don’t come back?” he prompted quietly, eyes searing as they bore into mine. “What am I supposed to do then?”

“Run,” I replied simply, offering him a weak grin. “Survive – for me. Don’t let them take anything else from us. Survive, and thrive, and keep doing what you love – even if you do pretend to be a cantankerous bastard. Keep giving them hell, okay?” He nodded again, jaw clenched as he swallowed, eyes moving away as tears pricked at my own.

I was crushed quickly to his chest, his face burrowed in my hair. My bruised and beaten body screamed in protest, but I held him just as tightly, breathing in the sweet smell of him. “Come back to me,” he whispered, voice cracking infinitesimally, and I nodded hard.

“You too, Sailor,” I murmured before stumbling back, eyes flicking to Neri with a stiff nod.

I retraced the route Walker had forced me along, the pain-induced fog in my mind pierced intermittently by a grim determination.

He must have an office – a base of operations, something…

But I opened door after door, finding empty storage rooms littered with feathers and the strong smell of animals and urine. But more worrying were the rooms I found more familiar – spaces converted into cells with heavy metal doors. These sat vacant, containing only a low wire bedframe with a few threadbare blankets, unlikely to offer much comfort in the dark, concrete space.

Room, after room, after room.

Some came with the scent of unwashed bodies and waste, others with iron, smears of red staining the floor.

Only once did the sights make me pause, fury and revulsion driving me otherwise onwards – but an upturned bedframe and pools of blood had me rooted to the spot, coughing and gagging, arm moving instinctively to cover my face. The odour of death and decay was cloying, nauseating, and sharp enough to bring tears to my eyes as I forced myself to take in the scene, horrified but unable to look away – not without knowing what had been endured here. Scraps of clothing and hunks of long, dark hair told enough of the story, and I averted my eyes, bile rising into my throat.

I’d rather have died than gone through whatever happened here.

It took a few moments for me to shake myself from my horrified reverie, blinking back the tears that were just as much from the overpowering odour as from the despair threatening to overwhelm me.

I can still save her. I can still- She- She might still be alive. I can still save her. I can still save her. I can still…

I carefully closed the door, shutting away the horror on the other side, my touch on the cool metal hesitating for just a moment longer.

I’m sorry this happened to you.

Room, after room, after room.

Storage closet, after cell, after storage closet.

Until finally, a door unlike the rest, hanging open rather than closed firmly.

I hesitated, licking my lips nervously, fingers flexing apprehensively as I toed the wood, revealing more of the space to my gaze.

There was a dark desk dominating the room, papers scattered across its surface and spilling to the ground – carpet, while worn thin in places, silently proclaiming the importance of this space. It was the first hint of softness I’d seen in the entire sprawling building.

My footsteps were light and uncertain as I moved closer, tongue between my teeth in an effort to minimise the sound of my breath, heart hammering in my chest. I paused after each pace, listening hard, searching for any sign that I, or Greg and Neri, had been discovered - but there was only the pulse thrumming in my ears, the quiet whir somewhere of electricals, and a gentle buzzing from the light overhead.

Fingertips grazing the wood, I moved silently around the desk, hand shifting instinctively through the papers for anything pertinent. Disgust flared once more in my stomach at the sight before me – profiles and images, detailing each of the individuals that were passing through their trade. Women, mostly – largely barely out of their teens, with a few not even old enough to vote. Three not old enough to start high school.

Children.

This time I couldn’t help myself, barely managing to drop to my knees before a waste-paper bin before my already-empty stomach roiled, a meagre amount of bile spilling into the half-full trash. Agony exploded inside me as I retched, body straining desperately to find something – anything – that would purge the poison of what I’d seen from my mind. I groaned and spat, resting my forehead on a sweat-damp arm, trembling with the effort of keeping myself upright before slowly shifting onto my heels. My hand pressed to the floor to help myself up, and I paused, staring at the paper beneath my palm.

The picture of me had clearly been taken on one of the several occasions they’d beaten me senseless, my head held upright by the chin, the wound along my cheekbone swollen and new, stretched taut by the thread holding the edges together. I touched my finger to the stitches that lay there now, scarcely able to believe it had been less than a day since Walker had beaten me for my defiance.

I couldn’t translate the writing, but the paragraph was short, accompanied by images of my face - and, as I turned the sheet over, the scarred skin of my shoulder. Fury raised in my chest once more, and I growled, about to tear the paper to shreds when the photo beside the first gave me pause. Lain bare on dark wood, the silver of my arm glinted in artificial light.

I looked up, eyeing that same mahogany-coloured desk beside me.

It was here. He had it here.

Moving to my feet quickly, I whirled around, heart hammering with desperation. I was running out of time – and the worry that no alarm had yet been raised was growing by the moment. It was unlikely that nobody would notice their entire trade stock being released, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Greg and Neri had been caught before they’d been able to free the animals.

I need to find the arm and get the hell out of here. They might need me.

With a firm nod to myself, I pawed at the drawers on the desk, slipping on the paperwork littering the floor as I searched for any indication as to my missing limb. I moved toward the other side, intending to repeat the process, and cursed when my foot collided with a half-full bottle of whisky, sending it skittering into the foot space between the wood, the sound deafening in my secrecy.

But the sharp impact of glass on metal was unmistakable, and I paused, hope rendering my mouth dry as I sunk to my knees.

Nestled amongst empty bottles and crumpled papers, half concealed by the debris, was a familiar shining silver. My fingers trembled as I reached out, almost afraid that my belief would be dashed – that this would turn out to be nothing but more trash, or something just as horrifying as the other contents of this hellish room.

The sigh of relief that left me as I wrapped my fingers around the familiar limb was sharp and heavy, gratitude to every force in the universe flooding through me as the hollow end of the arm nestled my short stump, the electronics and pneumatics engaging as I secured the appendage.

I’d always had a level of disdain for the limb and the pain it caused me, but having it stolen from me was unthinkable. I flexed the metal fingers once, relishing the power in my hand, and pushed myself to my feet once more, renewed by the reunion. The agony still marred my movement, my steps faltering and sluggish, but there was more energy in the motion as I rounded the desk once more, beelining for the door.

My heart and my paces faltered to a halt at distant gunfire, and the shrieking, tinny declaration of an alarm overhead.

I couldn’t quite run – not with my body in the state it was – but I did my best approximation, every inch of my beaten and bruised flesh howling in protest. But I didn’t dare slow down or hesitate, barrelling across the mouth of an offshooting hallway with little thought in my mind other than terrified desperation. I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I went sprawling to the floor with a grunt and a wheeze as I collided with someone else.

Coughing, I rolled onto my side, arm wrapped instinctively around my throbbing ribs, groaning softly, eyes squeezed tight against the sharp pain.

“You.”

My lids snapped open, coming face to face with the Captain who kidnapped me, crouched on his hands and knees, gaze narrowed hatefully. “It’s you. I’m guessing this is your doing,” he added with a scowl, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling and the wailing alarm.

“Fuck you,” I spat, struggling upright, a violent cough splattering blood on the floor, and he smirked, head cocked.

“You don’t seem to be doing so well, Asset,” he purred, a sinisterly sweet smile tugging at his lips. “Did you run away from your new owner, hm? Causing me an inconvenience – again.” He moved to his feet, grimacing slightly, and I stepped closer with a growl, my reclaimed metal hand curling into a powerful fist. Rolling his eyes dramatically, he reached into his waistband, levelling a gun at my forehead coldly. “I’ve already been paid for you. I don’t give a shit if you live or die. In fact,” he added, smirking as he dropped the hammer, “you’ve been nothing but a pain since I got you. I’d quite like to see your brains on the wall.”

I stiffened, caught and helpless in his sights, my heart pounding as I fought to find a way out of my predicament. A sudden movement out of the corner of my eye made me stumble back, startled, a blur of sapphire and aquamarine cutting between the Captain and I with a loud, high cry.

Our heads turned in unison to follow the kingfisher as it darted down the corridor, banking effortlessly around the corner and vanishing as quickly as it came. We looked back to one another, my shock almost matching his, before his surprise shifted to fury.

“What did you do?” he growled, fingers tightening around the gun until his knuckles flashed white. I arched an eyebrow, hoping to paint myself as unflappable and unphased despite my heart vibrating faster than the small bird’s wings in my chest.

“Oh, this wasn’t me,” I snorted, waving a hand in the direction of the earlier gunshots. “You think I’m alone?”

He snarled and took a step closer, opening his mouth in a hateful retort – but the sound of shouting interrupted him, pounding footfalls quickly growing louder as they hurtled toward us.

“Faster, come on! They’re gaining on us; we still need to find Win and-”

They faltered as they came flying around the corner, almost falling over one another at the sudden deceleration as they took in the sight before them, Greg’s arm darting out to catch Neri by the elbow as she stumbled.

“So, you came after all,” the Captain murmured, something akin to reverence in his voice. “I knew you’d find us – though I didn’t think it would be quite so quick, I must admit.”

Greg smiled thinly, releasing his first mate and moving forward slightly. “Clearly you underestimate me. But I’m here now, just as you wanted. So how about you stop pointing a gun at my boyfriend and we talk about this like men, hm?”

Distantly, something fizzed low in my stomach at his referring to me as his ‘boyfriend’, and I pushed it down stubbornly, leaving that feeling for a time when I didn’t have the significant risk of a bullet between the eyes. The Captain looked back to me, humming thoughtfully, the pursed his lips.

“No… I don’t think I will,” he purred, head cocked as he considered me. From the corner of my eye, I could see the pair inching closer, but I forced myself to keep my gaze on the man before me, laughing softly to maintain his focus.

“You’ve lost – can’t you see that? You’re done here, asshole. Even if you make it out of here alive, we’re gonna make sure you rot in a cell for the rest of your life. What’s the point in trying to keep fighting? You’re just tightening your own noose.”

His eyes narrowed hatefully, lip curling. “What’s to stop me killing all three of you right now? Then nobody will ever know.”

His head began to turn, to extend the threat more visibly to my compatriots, but I snorted loudly, interrupting the motion. “You think we’re alone? There’s an entire crew of us! You’re not getting away with this; it’ll be easier for you if you just surrender.”

The laugh that escaped him was spine-chilling, full of venom and violence. “You really must be as stupid as you look if you-” His jaw snapped shut as his gaze flickered infinitesimally to the right, finally aware of my advancing superiors.

The wave of calm resignation that washed over me as his fingers tightened on the gun once more was unexpected, yet comfortingly familiar. I’d faced down my own mortality more times than most men ever would, and the sense of peace, while distinctly unnerving after the fact, gave me a clarity I’d never found any other way.

Staring into the barrel of that gun, know that there was nothing I could do, meant I could be honest with myself.

I love him.

I’m afraid.

My eyes closed of their own volition, shutting out the rapidly approaching moment of my death.

I winced as the gun fired – eyes opening in shock as I was shoved aside, sending me sprawling to the floor with a yelp, broken ribs flaring agonisingly.

“Greg!”

Greg?

No.

No, no, no…

I was on my knees immediately, numb to the pain as my heart hammered frantically, rooted for a heartbeat while I took in the scene. Even the Captain looked shocked, his gun still raised, pointed at the Lieutenant who sat slumped against the wall, a streak of gore marring the dingy brickwork in a macabre display. Neri was pressing shaking hands to the hole in his chest, blood pumping free and fast over her fingers, while he simply glared at the Captain with a subtle, defiant grimace, despite his rapidly advancing pallor.

The Captain recovered, levelling his gun at the ignorant first mate still desperately fighting to stem the tide flowing from her commanding officer, and I jerked out of my dumb shock, throwing myself at the hateful creature with a roar of pure fury. I heard the gun discharge once- twice- but didn’t stop as I came upon him, snarling in blind rage, my weight atop him as I pinned him to the floor with a hand around his throat. At long last, fear registered in his eyes, mouth opening in an undoubtedly desperate plea to spare his life.

I didn’t give him the opportunity. With my Lieutenant bleeding behind me, I wasn’t waiting time listening to this cretinous waste of oxygen speak.

My metal fingers curled into a fist, his cheekbone cracking audibly on the first blow, breaking free of the skin on the second. Over, and over, and over, the reverberations shooting through my shoulder, fury unlike anything I’d ever felt rendering any semblance of his face to a pulverised slab of meat.

For him.

For every girl you brought through here.

For everyone and everything you hurt.

For me.

Deaf and blind in my rage, I was largely unaware of the speech behind me until the last of the bubbles left the blood oozing from the hole where his mouth once was, and I staggered to my feet, not sparing a glance for the mangled corpse as I turned.

My sailor was breathing shallowly, his eyes half-closed, Neri’s hands still pressed hard to his chest even as the blood slowed.

“Don’t let go,” I snapped, moving to lift him, cradled to my torso as I set up the fastest pace I dared, the small first mate scampering to keep up.

By the time we were in the back of a truck, ushered into a vehicle I didn’t care enough to question, Greg’s pulse was thready and weak.

I kept my hand in his as three men bustled around him, straining to see, growling under my breath every time my view was obstructed. I hissed a warning when someone tugged gently at the hem of my shirt, murmuring quiet words in a language I didn’t understand until I shoved the hands away.

“It’s not my blood,” I spat venomously, inching closer to my Captain as Neri translated softly.

I didn’t know which of his bullets had skimmed me, and I didn’t care.

The only thing that mattered right now was his fingers clinging weakly to mine, every atom of my body was focused on that flimsy grip. I could wait.

I was restrained as they dragged him away from me, lashing out at anyone and everyone who had the audacity to attempt to keep me from my Lieutenant – until Neri stepped up to me with a gentle hand on my chest, her voice soft and lashes spiked with tears.

“Please, Win. I- I… I need you to be with me right now, okay? He’s my best friend, and I… I…” She looked at the blood coating her hands and hiccupped back a sob before dissolving, knees giving way as she stumbled and fell into my chest. I caught her slight, trembling frame, wincing as the movement tugged at my copious injuries, and held on tight as tears pricked at my own eyes.

“He’s fine. He’s gonna be fine, okay?” I murmured into her hair, holding her hard against me as she wailed, fingers clenched in my shirt.

He has to be.

Despite my protests, Neri forced me to get the graze in my side seen to while we waited for our Captain to come out of surgery. It was a straight in-and-out, barely an inch into my waist, and I sat numbly while it was cleaned and stitched, my other wounds tended to with delicacy and gentle hands.

She talked while the doctor worked. She told me about the team who had given them transport – “We know a lot of people in a lot of places,” she’d offered with a shrug – and about how frantically Greg had searched for me before he received the video. She told me about his fury when he’d seen them hurting me, and how he’d had our location by the time the sun rose. It had been her vehement argument that had stopped him simply running in, guns blazing – only the note that I could get caught in the crossfire had restrained him.

With a weak smile, she told me that they’d freed thousands of birds and reptiles, and that twenty-two girls had escaped. I tried to force my tongue to move, to ask about Her, the one who had been through the worst of things – but I couldn’t find the words, couldn’t separate the glue that had stuck muscle to palate without my consent.

She offered me drinks, both hot and cold, no matter how many times I refused. Only her small hand on my arm kept me in my seat, as much as I wanted to demand answers; her skin was once again clear, looking starkly pale next to the grime and blood irregularly marring my own.

The doctor who had the unfortunate job of approaching us paled when I got to my feet, baring down on him with my fingers curled into fists, stammering as he told us that our Captain was out of surgery, but it was too soon to tell. With a shaking finger, he indicated my sailor’s recovery room, turning to Neri with medical explanations as I ploughed past.

The sight of him sickly and grey against starched-white sheets brought tears to my eyes, and I climbed carefully onto the side of the bed against his unresponsive body, gentle as I rested my head on his shoulder opposite the heavy bandaging spanning over his chest.

“I’m here,” I murmured, sliding my fingers into his, burying my face against skin that smelled like safety and home – and blood, and violence, and terror. “I’m here for you, okay? So… So you’ve just got to wake up. I need you to wake up because I love you, Lieutenant Tyne. I love you and I’m not ready to let you go, and I want the chance to tell you that you’re my boyfriend, too. So if you please, Sir… Just… Just wake up.”

My chest ached and tears fell readily as I curled closer, helpless and desperate as I clung to his hand, praying to whatever Gods I could think of. I sniffed and pleaded and murmured against his shoulder, distantly aware of my fingernails digging into the back of his knuckles, but too terrified to loosen my grip, offering him as much of my body heat and devotion as I could.

A soft hand on my head made me wince, and I stiffened, gaze narrowing pre-emptively as I looked up to curse and threaten whoever dared interrupt me.

Hazy brown eyes met mine, heavy-lidded and exhausted but entirely unmistakable, framed by enviously long lashes and cheekbones that could cut glass.

“I love you too, Snowflake,” he murmured, head resting back gently against the sheets. “… Feels like I’ve been shot.”