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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ᴄᴏʟᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛs

❝ ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙʟᴜғғ. ❞

✧ ✧ ✧

Secret S.H.I.E.L.D facility. Queens, New York.

"You're a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, then?"

Spalding's rhetorical question echoed through the empty building as he and Aaron trailed behind Brendon, who was leading them up to the main conference room.

"Yes," Brendon confirmed, but tilted his head to the side as he thought for a moment, then he continued, "Well, yes and no. I was a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, but officially speaking, I'm dead."

All he received in response was silence and two confused stares, so he waved a hand dismissively.

"It's a long story. I'll explain later."

"I've heard of S.H.I.E.L.D," Aaron announced as the trio took the final steps up to the room, "They save people. Help them. They're good guys," he turned to look at Brendon, "Are you a good guy, too?"

"I try to be."

"What's that mean?"

"It means that I always do everything in my power to save innocent lives, but I won't hesitate to kill if I have to," Brendon replied coolly, face hard.

The two men looked at each other for a while before Aaron gave a small nod. "I get that. And I understand it."

A mutual respect formed between the two men at that moment, and Brendon extended his hand for a handshake.

"I haven't introduced myself," he said as Aaron took his hand, "I'm Brendon Urie. Or, as I'm currently going as, Scott Brady."

"You don't look like a Scott."

"I know."

The robot's human face displayed a small smile. "I'm Aaron. Aaron Stack. Or, as I'm more commonly referred to, Machine Man."

"I'm Doctor Spalding," Spalding held up one hand as he stood on the sidelines, "Just in case you were wondering."

Brendon turned to look at the man with a straight face. "I know who you are, Doctor."

Spalding looked taken aback. "You-you do?"

"Yes, Director Fury has mentioned you."

"He has?" Spalding's jaw practically dropped to the floor. He shook his head and straightened himself up as he tried to compose himself. "Oh, well that's... great. I'm honored he remembers me."

"He remembers everyone. That's one of his particular abilities. I wouldn't let it get to my head, if I were you," Brendon swiftly shut him down before turning to log onto the nearby computer.

Spalding's forehead creased as he walked over to join his friend and whispered lowly. "Not a very friendly guy, is he?"

"How did you find us?" Aaron questioned Brendon, ignoring his friend. "Or more importantly, how did you know that we'd be under attack?"

Brendon answered without looking back at them and continued pressing buttons. "One of the technical analysts at S.H.I.E.L.D has been helping me on my mission; he gets me any and all information I need. He recognised your legal meeting as a potential disturbance and he let me in on it. And we knew where you were because we followed you all day."

"We?"

The unmistakable sound of a helicopter closing in sounded throughout the entire building, and Brendon finally halted his movements and stepped away from the screen, turning to face his guests.

"Yes," he confirmed, "We."

~

The Hounds stepped off of the chopper one by one, smiling between themselves as they marched towards the three others waiting for them. It was well into the evening at this point, and despite the lights surrounding the roof, the overhanging darkness made the three of them seem even more menacing than usual. It wasn't surprising that Spalding took a step back, behind Aaron.

"These are agents Reigns, Rollins and Ambrose. They're my partners," Brendon pointed out each Hound in turn, each of them nodding in acknowledgement, "Let's see him."

The agents parted to clear Brendon and Aaron's line of sight, allowing them to see a bound and unconscious coupling of Konik and the pilot.

"Nice work, guys," Brendon complimented, extending his hand for the customary Hound fistbump. "Let's get 'em to the holding cell."

~

With the combined effort of all six men, they were able to get the hostages into the building and secure in a cell long before they started to show signs of waking up. That was the easy part.

The hard part was getting them to leak information on Corporation.

"Just let me at 'em," Dean all but pleaded, bouncing up and down energetically and knocking his fist against the side of his jaw to hype himself up, "I'll get 'em to spill."

"Yeah, blood," Seth scoffed, shaking his head as he placed a hand on his overhyped friend's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, "Let's keep violence as a last resort, thanks."

"I rate we just leave them in there," Roman shrugged, leaning back against the table and folding his arms as he looked through the soundproof, one-way window at the pair of Corporation employees. "It'll drive 'em crazy. When morning comes, they'll be yapping their jaws off."

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Brendon interjected, rubbing his tired eyes and pushing himself off of the wall he'd been leaning against; he'd been trying to squeeze info out of them for a hour, and he was starting to get agitated, "We need to refuel, too. I'll go out and grab a couple pizzas."

"Do you mind if I tag along?"

Four pairs of eyes stared back at Aaron for a long moment before Dean broke the awkward silence.

"Uh, no offense, dude, but everyone in this city hates you."

The bluntness of his comment earned the blue-eyed man a double whammy to the chest from both of his best friends.

"Sure," Brendon said emotionlessly, moving to exit the room, "Just put on a hoodie or something."

✧ ✧ ✧

A pizzeria. Queens, New York.

Brendon had placed the food order, and he and Aaron were currently sitting in a booth in the furthest corner of the almost-deserted pizzeria, well out of ear-shot of any of the employees and the group of teenagers huddled in a booth at the front.

The conversation had somehow swerved to the topic of Aaron's origin, and the bot explained his complicated history to Brendon. How he was created with the intent of becoming a weapon used to cause mass destruction, how he ended up being the only bot that survived when the project was shut down, how his father – Doctor Stack – took him in and nurtured him, and most horridly, how the Corporation murdered his father when they found out.

"I've been after them ever since," Aaron sighed softly, "but it seems as though every time I come close to taking them down, the universe decides it's not the right time." The bot stayed quiet for a couple moments, thinking to himself before continuing. "I don't think you fully comprehend just how much I hate these people, Brendon. They destroyed everything good in my 'life'. They took my family from me. And for that, I would very much like to make them pay."

"And you will," Brendon promised, letting his head lean back against the store window, "As soon as we get a location out of that son of a bitch back at the facility, we'll waste them once and for all."

Aaron smiled and a comfortable silence fell upon the two before Brendon decided to break it with a question.

"Hey, obviously you know more about Corporation than we do. Is there anything we should know? About the remaining leaders or whatever."

The robot cast his gaze down to the glossy tabletop as he ran through information in his mind.

"There are two remaining leaders that I am aware of. Eugene Stivak is head of the Eastern Branch and Curtiss Jackson heads the Western. Out of the two, I'd say the latter is the more vehement."

"Stivak..." Brendon mumbled, brow creasing as he tried to recall where he'd heard that name before, "Why does that sound so familiar?"

"He's a Senator for the United States government."

A sound vaguely resembling a snort left Brendon's throat. He cocked his head to the side a little and shrugged. "Not even surprised. Can't trust anyone these days."

Aaron stared at Brendon with a blank expression. "Except S.H.I.E.L.D, of course," he stated, although it came across as more of a question.

"Depends on the day."

"Can't say that that makes me feel very reassured."

"You should be. You're working with me, here," Brendon leaned forward slightly, allowing the warm light from the ceiling light to illuminate his chiselled face, "I promised that I'd help you take down Corporation once and for all, and I never go back on my word."

Aaron held strong eye contact with the agent for a bit, mind churning as if trying to decide whether to follow through with the joint mission or to say thanks for the offer but he'll do it on his own. Then, he asked one question, and the answer persuaded him to go with the former rather than the latter.

"Brendon, you know why I want to take them down but... why do you?"

The chef dinged the bell to indicate that the pizzas were ready and Brendon shifted out of the booth when the cashier called out his order number.

"For the very same reason that you do."

✧ ✧ ✧

Corporation HQ, Eastern United States Branch.

An irate Curtiss Jackson swiped one of the chairs surrounding the table and tossed it clear across the intelligence room in one swift motion as an animalistic growl escaped his throat.

"What do you mean 'they're gone'?" he demanded angrily, his pinky finger tapping against his palm in an impatiently rapid rhythm.

The unsettled Corporation hacker stammered incomprehensively, busying himself with furiously typing away on his keyboard just so he wouldn't have to look his boss in the face.

"I mean exactly that, sir," the hacker started explaining, shaking his head as he gestured to the multiple tracking systems that seemed to be inoperative, "I don't know how it's possible but they've managed to completely fall off the grid. I can't track their pagers, I can't locate the chopper... I can't even hack into the camera feed from the hotel they were in this afternoon. It's as if our systems are entirely blocked."

"How the hell is that possible?!"

"I..." the hacker looked down, ashamed, as his voice fell to a whisper, "I don't know."

Jackson snapped his head to the side to look at his fellow Corporation leader and gave a sarcastic, tight-lipped smile. "Was he not – supposedly – your best?" he queried, referring to the feeble hacker sitting a little way away.

"Supposedly," Stivak grumbled before sighing dejectedly and bringing a hand to rest on his forehead. "Mills, is there anything you can tell us?"

The hacker perked up at the question, remembering he did have some helpful information to relay to the leaders. He tapped at the keys in front of him until a video window appeared on the screen.

"I picked this up from a security camera from one of the apartment blocks on the left side of the hotel; it was much easier to hack into. It's not the greatest quality and if you blink you might miss it, but if you look closely enough you can see someone entering the building from the roof."

Mills played the video at a quarter of its usual speed until the figure appeared on screen. Then, he paused it, zoomed in and changed the settings to better the pixel quality. A slightly blurred image of Brendon's side profile held on the screen.

"You see, Mills," Stivak harshly clamped his hand on the hacker's shoulder and leaned down, "this is the thing you lead with. Who is he?"

"Name's Scott Brady," Mills explained as he pulled up Brendon's fake information, "Doesn't have much of a reputation, so I can't tell you why he'd be interested in Corporation stuff. But he works as a personal bodyguard, if that means anything."

"Personal bodyguard," Stivak repeated, nodding lightly as he caught Jackson's gaze, "You think Spalding hired some reinforcements just in case?"

"It's possible," Jackson shrugged, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. "Continue working on finding Konik; I need to know whether I should be arranging a corpse disposal or not. In the meantime," he nodded at Stivak, "the show must go on. We'll send the next retrieval team out within the next forty-eight hours."

✧ ✧ ✧

The next afternoon. Secret S.H.I.E.L.D facility. Queens, New York.

"C'mon, man," Dean whined, lightly smacking one of the captured men across the face before throwing his hands out, "Work with us here. Just one little piece of info. That's all we need."

This had been the situation for the past eight hours – the six men would rotate in and out of the holding cell, using various methods to try and squeeze even an inkling of material out of the two Corporation employees. Unfortunately for them, Konik and Mungo wouldn't budge; they knew that death would be the result when the Corporation found out that they had snitched.

And so, no locations of secret bases were leaked, and everyone was slowly being driven mad by the repetitiveness of the on-going interrogations.

Dean let out a guttural groan before gripping at his hair in frustration, tugging on the strands. His roots were soon saved from anguish, though, when Seth barged in a moment later.

"Dean, you're done here," The Architect announced, cocking his head to indicate that Dean should exit the room.

"What?" the older guy's eyes went wide as he sputtered defensively, "No, no, I've almost got 'em-"

"You really don't," Konik shook his head.

"I just need a few more minutes," Dean continued, ignoring Konik's comment.

"Dude," Seth sighed and pulled an annoyed face as he made shooing motions with his hands, "just get out."

With an over exaggerated sigh, The Lunatic made his way out of the room, but not before he slapped Konik one more time.

"Yeah, sure," Konik sucked on his teeth and rolled his eyes, "'Cause that's the way to get me on your side."

The two Hounds headed back to the main room, Dean complaining all the while.

"Dude, I totally had 'em," he snarled at his friend, "Why'd you pull me out?"

"Because," Brendon interjected, climbing the last few glass steps up to the room, "They're scared for their lives and we weren't getting anywhere; so I came up with a solution."

"Which is?"

"Just shut up and watch."

Brendon walked over to the door and pushed it open, grabbing a chair as he entered and setting it down in front of the two prisoners. He sat down with his knees spread slightly as he leaned against the backrest.

"I have a proposition for you," he informed.

The two men shared a bored look before Konik spoke up. "Agent, we're not gonna-"

"Full immunity, top-level protection from potential threats, and a job as the new head of weaponry at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters in D.C.," Brendon cut him off. When he received no response, he knew that he had Konik right where he wanted him; he was taking the bait, and now he just had to be reeled in.

"All I need in return," Brendon lowered his voice, raised his brows and leaned forward, "is one little location."

Konik looked down, pursed his lips and nodded slowly before looking back up at Brendon. "And what happens if I refuse this offer?"

"I'll kill you."

The weapons master scoffed. "Will you, now?"

"Yes," Brendon replied smoothly without so much as a bat of the eyelid, "You're no use to me if you don't talk."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?" Brendon questioned monotonously before standing up, retrieving his Glock from the holster attached to his waist and shooting Mungo point blank in the head, execution style.

Blood spattered everywhere – the pristine walls, the one-way window, and most of Konik and Brendon's faces. Brendon reached up to wipe his cheek as if the liquid was nothing more than a few drops of red rain, while Konik stammered in a mixture of shock and horror at the abrupt murder of his colleague.

"I never bluff. You have thirty minutes to make a decision."

~

"And you guys think I'm the lunatic, here," Dean made a 'pfft' noise as he reached for a soda from the pack in the centre of the table, "Did you see what this guy did?" He pointed at Brendon and looked between the other men in the room, "Did you see what he did?"

The Hound continued blabbering on excitedly as the rest of the group tucked into leftover pizza from the night before.

"And that offer was legit?" Seth checked, cocking one eyebrow at Brendon as he lifted a slice to his mouth.

"Yeah, did you even check with Fury first?" Dean added.

A cold silence fell over the room as Brendon delivered one of his signature icy glares, directed solely at The Lunatic. Almost instinctively, everyone – even Aaron and Spalding – froze in their respective positions, as if they were worried that any slight movement would result in them becoming the new victim of the brooding agent's supernatural-like intimidation abilities.

"Don't ever ask me something as fucking stupid as that ever again."

Everyone stayed in their statue-like forms, with Dean being the only one to move around. He held his hands up in surrender and took a step back.

"Alright, my bad. Damn," he apologized to his friend before turning his back to Brendon and whispering to his fellow Hounds, thinking that no one else could hear him, "Someone's suffering from serious (Y/N)-withdrawal symptoms."

"I will murder you in your fucking sleep, Ambrose."

"Oh come on," Dean turned back to Brendon and rolled his eyes, "We all know it's true!"

Brendon slammed both hands down on the table with a loud smack as he swiftly stood up from his seat. Dean let out a laugh before grabbing a slice of pizza and his soda and running off to safety.

"I said it!" his voice echoed through the building as he ran, "I regret nothing!"

Brendon exhaled heavily before gathering himself and taking his seat once again, grabbing a slice of stale pizza and taking a harsh bite.

In an attempt to break the tense atmosphere in the room, Aaron cleared his throat and addressed Brendon. "Konik gave you a definite location, yes?"

The agent nodded and swallowed the food in his mouth before replying. "I sent it through to Agent Weekes back at S.H.I.E.L.D for verification. He should call back soon and then we can construct a strategy."

The other men nodded and continued munching on their dinner as they made small talk. Not too long after his name was mentioned, Dallon paged through on the building's communication network and when Brendon yelled out for the call to be accepted, the techie's face appeared as a hologram just above the table's surface.

Aaron and Spalding turned to look at each other with arched brows before scooting their chairs closer, not wanting to miss even the tiniest detail. Dean had re-entered the room, since he'd heard the call coming through, but he made sure to keep as much as a distance as he could between himself and Brendon.

"Machine Man and Dr Spalding! Hi!" Dallon greeted energetically, "It's great to meet you! Well, technically, this isn't meeting you. But it's nice-"

"Weekes," Brendon cut off his friend's nervous rambles and closed his eyes for a moment, standing up and folding his arms across his chest, "What do you have for us?"

"Oh! Right!" Dallon flashed a toothy grin and readjusted his glasses as he typed away on his keyboard, again sending multiple pop-ups into view, "So, the location Konik gave you is legit; that's not the problem."

"Then what is?" Roman enquired.

"They have pretty hectic security at their bases," Dallon informed, face creasing with worry, "Not as intense as S.H.I.E.L.D's, of course, but still enough to create problems for the six of you. Not to mention that these guys specialize in creating all kinds of mutants; they've gotta have a ton of their super-agents roaming around. And last time I checked, Aaron's the only one of you that has super abilities. Unless any of you have something you wanna tell us..."

Dallon trailed off, tossing a questioning look at the five humans. Spalding and The Hounds shrugged before all directing a curious stare at Brendon.

"This is all natural," he replied coolly.

"Lucky bastard," Spalding cursed under his breath as the group turned back to Dallon.

"You guys are gonna have to come up with one hell of a solid plan if you want this to work," Dallon tsked.

"Hold on, I know that look," Roman smiled as he observed Seth's contemplative stance – arms folding firmly, eyes cast downwards and teeth chewing on his bottom lip, "What're you thinking, uce?"

"I'm thinking that..." Seth mumbled, voice starting out softly as he mulled over his plan one more time before it picked up its usual volume, "If we can't go to them, then we make them come to us."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Aaron quizzed, genuinely interested in The Architect's brainpower.

"Weekes," Seth addressed the hologram as he rushed from his spot at the far end of the table to stand right in front of Dallon's face, holding his hands out as he spoke, "you said that they're still targeting and recruiting new subjects for their superhero-generation experiments, right?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, so if we can ambush them during their retrieval missions, stop them from abducting their subjects and kill the agents they sent to do it..."

"We can get their attention," Brendon continued Seth's thought with a small nod of his head.

Seth smiled at Brendon and pointed a finger at him as he finished off. "While simultaneously taking out their top guys."

Aaron perked up and nodded in approval as he added to the conversation. "Yes. They sent their weapons specialist after me; it's highly likely that they'll send their successful test subjects after other potential targets. It's a wonderful plan."

"One that could definitely work," Spalding agreed.

Seth smiled triumphantly as the men bobbed their heads at him in respect.

"Weekes," Dean lifted his head at Dallon, "you can obviously hack their system and get us a list of their targets and when they plan on going after them, right?"

"In my sleep," Dallon scoffed, smirking cockily.

"You won't be sleeping," Brendon chimed, "I need that complete schedule by morning."

"I'll get it to you in two hours."

~

Brendon pulled his shirt over his head and stuck his arms through each end, pulling the soft material down over his hard torso before reaching for his towel and ruffling his wet hair with it.

He hung the towel on the rack in the bathroom to dry and took a look at himself in the mirror on the way out. Dark rings were beginning to form around his eyes and he scowled at the sight. Now that he wasn't under direct orders from S.H.I.E.L.D and was essentially running on his own schedule, he had ample time to sleep. But time wasn't the problem – falling asleep was.

He was no stranger to insomnia; it was an old friend of his. But this time around it was the worst it had ever been. His mind would constantly churn out torturous thoughts about anything and everything, allowing him no rest. It was incredibly frustrating, to say the least. 

The next thing he noticed was the slight trace of facial hair trailing along his jawline. He rubbed his hand over his face and realised that he hadn't shaved in close to two weeks; growing a beard was the last thing he was concerned about.

With a sigh, he turned and was about to exit the bathroom when he remembered something.

You'd once told him that you hated the way he looked with a beard.

Back then, he'd delivered a snappy response about how he didn't give a fuck about what you thought of him but now, he walked over to pick up his razor and shaving cream and removed the hair from his jaw.

He had barely finished rinsing off his face when he heard a knock at the door.

"It's Reigns," Roman's deep voice came out muffled as he waited on the other side of the door.

Brendon walked over to open it and stepped to the side to allow the other guy to enter. "Everything okay?" he frowned.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's good. It's just..." the Samoan stood awkwardly, wringing his hands before taking a breath and deciding to just get to the point, "I wanted to apologise for what Ambrose said earlier. About (Y/N)."

Brendon's stomach twisted at the mention of your name, but he retained his indifferent composure and gave a small shrug. "No need. We all know how he is."

"Yeah but," Roman puffed out his cheeks before cringing, "I could tell he kinda hit a nerve, there. And I just wanted to, I dunno, see if you're okay?"

"I'm fine."

"It's okay not to be. I know how you feel about her."

All Roman received in response was cold, hard silence, and so he continued.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... if you ever need to talk, I'm here. Out of the three of us, I'm probably most equipped to handle these types of situations," Roman chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Reigns, I do. But it's not necessary. I'm doing fine," Brendon insisted, turning to walk over to his dresser.

"Is that why your laptop's background is a picture of her? Or why you haven't been sleeping?"

Brendon halted his steps and his entire body went rigid. He turned his head sharply to look at the Hound, who was smiling sympathetically.

"Don't worry; I haven't told anyone," Roman held up his hands and walked closer to show his sincerity, "Wouldn't wanna tarnish your reputation."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Brendon snapped defensively.

"You love her."

Brendon scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. "I wish it were that simple."

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