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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғᴏᴜʀ: ᴀ ᴛᴇʀʀɪʙʟᴇ ᴄʀᴀsʜ

❝ ɪ'ᴍ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ; ʏᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ɪᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ. ❞

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                              ALMOST TWO MONTHS HAD PASSED SINCE THE ATTACK AT THE BAR. As far as S.H.I.E.L.D could tell, there hadn't been any activity at all on Hydra's part, let alone activity that suggested another attack.

It was quiet.

"Too quiet," the Director muttered as he ran his hand over his mouth, the other gripping the back of his chair. "I'm exponentially concerned, Urie. When it comes to Hydra, quiet is never good."

"You think they're planning another attack on her, sir?"

"I don't think, Agent. I know. And I know that when they go through with it, it won't be some middle-school play; it'll be a full on Broadway spectacle, and we have to be prepared for opening night."

"I can assure you that her safety is and will continue to be my number one priority, sir. Whatever it takes."

"I'm aware. You're my best agent, Urie; you've always made your missions the only source of your focus, and I assigned you to her for exactly that reason. I don't doubt you for one second," Fury walked out from behind his desk and started pacing around the room. "No, it's her that I'm worried about. She doesn't seem to fully comprehend the extremity of the danger she's in, and that could prove to be detrimental to us all. That's actually the reason I called you in; I need you to talk to her. Explain the severity of the situation and try to get her to conform accordingly."

Brendon's shoulders shook as he chuckled slightly, gaze fixed on the floor before straightening up again and pursing his lips as he looked at the Director. "Sir, I really don't think I should be the one to talk to her. I'm not exactly her, uh, favourite person."

"Then become her favourite person," Fury said, raising both eyebrows at the man who stood at ease in front of him. "You're already with her almost every moment of every day; assigning someone else to talk to her would be pointless, not to mention a waste of resources."

"Sir-"

"That's an order, Agent."

Brendon reluctantly gave a curt nod. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Now, before things get bad, we have to familiarise ourselves with the enemy more than we already have," Fury turned to face the left wall of his glass office, directing his attention there. "Pull up all information we have available on The Asset."

"You are not authorized to view this information. Access denied," the computerised voice echoed throughout the office.

"Excuse me? Director override. Fury, Nicholas J."

"You are not authorized to view this information. Access denied."

"What the hell-" the Director was cut off by the unwelcome, piercing sound of S.H.I.E.L.D's alarm system indicating that headquarters had been compromised. The Director turned to face Brendon, intending to order him to find and evacuate you as soon as possible.

"Urie-"

But he was already at your door.

~

You sat upright in your uncomfortably hard bed, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the harsh light that now illuminated your tiny temporary living space, having been rudely awakened by the harsh sound of the alarm a mere ten seconds earlier.

Half a moment later, Brendon entered the room, tossing you a jacket and kneeling at the edge of the bed so that he could put your shoes on your feet, grabbing you hastily yet gently when he'd finished.

"We have to move. Now."

"Is it him?" you gulped as you shrugged on the jacket he had handed you.

"Highly likely. Hurry up, we have to meet The Director."

~

You and Brendon navigated briskly through the corridors, eventually meeting up with The Director, Agent Coulson and Agent Hill a minute later; the five of you continuing to walk.

"How bad is it?" the Director inquired, his face taught.

"That's the problem, sir. We don't know," Coulson responded.

"How long to get everyone out?"

"Campus should be clear in the next half hour."

"Do better," the Director barked, leading the rest of you down to the AI facility floor. "Urie, get her out of here. No matter what, don't turn back."

Brendon frowned for a moment before nodding, grabbing your hand and running in the direction of a getaway vehicle.

"Clear out the tech below. And make getting Rogers out of here your top priority," the Director addressed Agent Hill.

"Yes, sir," she motioned to two other agents standing nearby. "With me."

The Director entered the lab facility where S.H.I.E.L.D's information base was stationed.

"What's going on, Agent Smith?"

"Sir," Smith emerged from the shadows of the lab, a bout of concern on his face, "it seems as if Snowflake is the target."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"

"Both of them."

"Right," The Director ran a hand over his mouth. "One of them is already almost certainly secure, so let's take care of the other one, shall we?"

He motioned for Smith to follow him to the lab vault, which he did. The vault had just about opened up when there was a deafening explosion. Both men immediately ducked for cover, instinctively reaching for their weapons.

The explosion caused one of the walls to cave in, leaving a massive hole in its wake. A figure stepped through the gap and advanced toward the two men, stopping just a few feet away, which allowed them to get a good look at him. He had short black hair, a mask covered his mouth and nose and his body was clad in black camouflage.

The stranger reached behind his back to retrieve his gun, and aimed it at them.

"Sir, please put down the gun!" the Director called out to him, his hand resting over his own gun.

The stranger looked at the gun he held in his hands before suddenly opening fire. Smith tackled the Director, both of them narrowly missing the bullets.

All hell broke loose after that. Machine gun fire was shot at the stranger courtesy of back-up S.H.I.E.L.D agents, but he dodged the bullets like it was just another part of his daily routine. He jumped high from the ground and attacked those firing at him.

In the blink of an eye, he had taken down several agents with his strength and agility alone. He stopped for a few seconds and waited to see who would attack him next. Honestly, the whole lab had almost gone to shit.

Smith tried to stand up but the stranger quickly walked towards him. He raised his gun, but the stranger grabbed his hand.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a needle containing a red liquid before swiftly puncturing Smith's neck, emptying the liquid into his blood stream.

Smith's eyes suddenly glowed black and he turned around, shooting The Director – who had successfully retrieved Snowflake and locked it in a briefcase – in the shoulder.

He strolled over and yanked the briefcase from The Director's hand.

"We won't have time to get the girl, this place is about to blow."

~

"Brendon," you said worriedly, picking up the pace as you looked over your shoulder when you heard gunshots.

"It's okay, you'll be fine, I promise. Through here," Brendon said, pulling you through a side door and leading you down staircases, his hand intertwined with yours in a tight grip.

The two of you emerged in the open-plan garage where most of the agents were, clambering into vehicles and speeding off to safety.

Agent Hill ushered you and Brendon towards an unoccupied Rover. Once Brendon opened the door for you and made sure you were secure, he exchanged a few hurried sentences with Hill before hopping into the driver's seat and joining the flurry of cars exiting the compound.

When you came to a fork in the road at which all of the other agents turned right, Brendon turned left instead, prompting you to turn around and look at the cars shrinking in the distance behind you.

"Where are we going? Why aren't we following them?" you turned back around, perplexed.

"I'm taking you off the grid. To a safe house about a hundred miles north from here."

"How long for?"

"Until Fury contacts me with more information."

"I don't have any clothes, or money, or anything," you remarked, definitely not in any way looking forward to the days that lay ahead.

"We'll stop somewhere along the way."

You rode in silence for the next half hour; you leaned your head against the car window, watching the scenery go by in flashes of green as Brendon focused on the road in front of you, occasionally sneaking glances your way.

"Look, I know you and I aren't the best of friends... but-" Brendon broke the silence.

"That's putting it very lightly," you scoffed.

The car was quiet again for a little while before Brendon spoke again.

"Are you okay?"

You took a deep breath before answering. "I think so."

"It's okay not to be," he responded, gaze still fixed on the road ahead. "It's not everyday that shit like this happens to someone."

"True. But it's not the first time this has happened to me, and I have a feeling that it definitely won't be the last. So, might as well get used to it."

"I'm glad you're thinking that way. Means you'll finally realize how much danger you're actually in."

"Why do you always do that?" you asked in frustration.

"Do what?"

"Patronize me. I'm not oblivious to the fact that I'm in danger, Brendon."

"Maybe not, but you sure act like you are."

"Yeah? Well, if I'm such a problem for you to deal with, then why are you still protecting me?"

Brendon went silent as he looked at you.

"Because even though you're stubborn as hell, that doesn't mean I want to see you get hurt."

"Why? You don't care about me. I'm just another mission to you; you said it yourself."

"That's not-" he stopped himself and sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't wanna keep fighting with you, (Y/N)."

"Stop being such a pompous ass towards me, then."

"Fair enough."

You were shocked at how easily he gave in, but said nothing and returned to staring out of the window.

~

You scanned over the underwear section at Target, Brendon standing much too close for you to be even remotely comfortable picking out some briefs and a couple of bras.

"Um, could you," you made a shooing gesture with your hands.

"No."

"All I need you to do is move a few feet away for a minute."

"No."

You pursed your lips as you stared at your bodyguard, causing him to roll his eyes and groan in annoyance.

"Just choose a couple. It's not like I haven't seen a girl's underwear before."

"Fine," you grabbed a few sets and stuffed them into your basket. "Let's go."

"Finally." Brendon placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you towards an empty cashier. "Remember-"

"Stay close to you and try to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Got it."

The cashier greeted you warmly as you walked up to the till; Brendon muttered a greeting in response as he hastily unpacked the clothing and food items in the baskets. You raised an eyebrow when he placed a box of Twinkies on the conveyor.

"What?" he mumbled, seeing your amused state.

"Nothing... just didn't peg you as a Twinkie guy."

"Yeah, well, they're delicious."

~

"Can I turn on the radio? This silence is daunting."

Brendon mumbled a 'yeah' through a mouth full of Twinkie and you reached out to turn on the radio, switching through the stations before you found one you liked.

The current song ended and Wannabe by the Spice Girls played next. You bobbed your head along to the music, not singing, since you were too tired, but grateful for the comfort the music offered as you resumed your position of staring out the window.

Maybe it was the sugar-high you were on, or a result of your tiredness, but a few seconds into the song, you could've sworn you heard a voice softly singing along – and it definitely wasn't one of the Spice Girls'.

You rotated your head slowly, and sure enough, you were met with the sight of Brendon softly, but still audibly, singing along; his facial expressions making it evident that he was lost in the song.

You bit your lip to try and stifle the laugh that threatened to erupt from within you; the sight of your usually steel-faced bodyguard singing to the Spice Girls was truly a gem.

Brendon must've sensed your gaze on him, since he turned to look at you and immediately stopped singing. Clearing his throat, he reached out to turn the radio off.

"We should be arriving at the safe house in about five minutes."

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Thank you for reading x