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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ: ғɪx ᴍᴇ

✧ ✧ ✧

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ: ғɪx ᴍᴇ

ᴄᴜʙᴀ. 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟽. ❞



✧ ✧ ✧





Blood.

So much blood.

It was all over you, the strong iron smell overpowering your senses and making your insides churn.

Even after S.H.I.E.L.D had infiltrated the holding and rescued the three of you, and even now while you sat in the sterile medical centre of HQ, safe and cleaned up, the blood was all you could see, and all you could smell.

The medics had thoroughly wiped you down, leaving no trace of Spencer's blood anywhere on your person, but as you studied your trembling hands, red clouded your vision.

You continued staring at your fingers as Brendon entered the room, and didn't look up when he spoke.

"Are you okay?"

"No."

Your answer triggered full-on bodyguard mode, and he took purposeful steps to your side. "Why? What's wrong? Did they hurt you?" his voice was urgent, yet you still couldn't interpret the emotion hidden in it, and he tucked his hand under your chin as he titled your head in all directions, clearly searching for signs of trauma. You swatted him away.

"No. I'm not injured," you sighed with a shake of your head, "It's just that..."

"It's just that what?"

"You shot Spencer."

"I am aware of that, yes."

"You shot your best friend," you exhaled shakily, "You made the conscious decision to kill your best friend..." you trailed off, letting the statement hang in the already-tense air.

Brendon swallowed harshly and frowned. "I don't know what your goal is, here, (Y/N), but-"

"For me," you whispered, barely loud enough to interpret, but he heard. He heard, and his entire body tensed up.

His lips parted, and it was his intention to reply, but the words caught in his throat and all that came out was an incomprehensible mumble.

You finally lifted your gaze to meet his beautiful brown eyes, and felt your chest tighten. "You did that for me."

"I... yeah."

Reaching your arms up and out, you clasped your hands together at the back of his neck, using it to pull him down into your embrace. Since you were sitting on a medical examination table – and he was standing – the two of you were level in height, and you were able to bury your head in the gap between his neck and shoulder.

"Fuck, Brendon," you murmured; the vibrations of your voice on his skin caused his body to flush, "I can't believe you did that."

At first, he had been uncertain how to react, but with a small sigh, decided he might as well give in.

He wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you in closer.

"The medics managed to fix him up before he bled out. Other than the bullet hole leaving a scar in his chest, he'll be fine," Brendon informed.

"Yeah, but you didn't know that at the time." You pulled away to look at him. God, he really was fucking gorgeous. "You had no certainty that you wouldn't kill him. And you did it anyway."

He brought his fingers to your face, and broke eye contact so that he could watch their movements as he leisurely danced them along your skin, down to your neck. Your lips curved up at the sensation.

"It was either him or you. I made a decision."

"Was it the right one?"

"You tell me." He looked at you again, squinting lightly. "Do you trust me again?"

"I always trusted you," you admitted, "I just hated you for lying to me."

"You? Hate me? Noooo, never."

"Shut up," you scoffed, hitting your fist against his rock-hard chest. "I mean it. I hate being lied to."

"Everyone does," he shrugged, "Unfortunately, it was necessary in your case."

You flexed your eyebrows and scoffed, "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that line..."

"It's true, though. We were going to tell you eventually. We just... didn't know how. Yeah, the situation was handled a bit brutally, but you gotta cut us some slack, here. We have no fucking clue how to deal with all this Asgardian shit."

"I know, I know," you groaned, "And I get it; I do. But I guess I just needed that time to, well, be angry, and let everything settle in."

Brendon nodded along in understanding. "I'm hoping this means that you won't run away again."

You laughed. "I won't."

"Promise?"

"Depends," you pursed your lips, "Are you guys gonna let me in on whatever else you were hiding from me?"

"Actually," Brendon untangled himself from your grasp and stepped away, much to your displeasure, "that's why I came to get you. Fury wants to talk to you about just that."

You nodded as you hopped down from the table. "You're not gonna be there?"

He shook his head. "They may have been able to fix his wound, but Spencer's mind still belongs to Hydra. Fury wants me to go in and bring our guy back."

"You know how to undo mind control?" you asked, doing nothing to hide your surprise.

He tossed you a bored look.

"Right. Of course you do," you rolled your eyes as you swaggered over to the door, waving your hands, "There's nothing you can't do."

"Just shut your mouth and hurry your ass up."

~

"Alright, I'm here," you announced yourself, arms stretched out to the side as you walked into The Director's office, "and I'm ready to be enlightened."

The Director chuckled at your eagerness and motioned for you to take a seat. "It's great to see you, too. You had all of us worried."

"Yeah," you ran your tongue across your teeth as you plonked down, "I would apologise for that, but I'm really not sorry. What I am is ready. So lay it on me. Why do those douchebags want me so badly?"

"For everything to properly make sense, we have to backtrack a little bit..." Fury stood up from his chair and crossed the room to take a seat in the chair opposite you. Once seated, he steepled his fingers and cleared his throat. "(Y/N), this entire feud between Hydra and your family goes way back, further than you think – to a time when I wasn't even around. We're talkin' World War II era."

"My dad was around during the formation of Captain America?" you gawked.

"Oh, he wasn't just 'around' for the event; he was a huge chunk of it actually occurring." Upon seeing your perplexed expression, Fury elaborated. "With the Tesseract in Hydra's possession, it was in your father's best interest to invest in a super-soldier who could help get it back."

"Except he didn't get it back," you pointed out, cocking an eyebrow, "Cap flew it right into the ocean."

"And who do you think gave him that order?"

"Holy shit," you whispered, taking the time to think over what was just said.

"Tell me about it. I had a headache for two days straight after he told me about all of this. Anyway, after that happened, your father became one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D-"

You groaned as you brought a hand to your head; you moved your head left to right as your brain tried to process the information. So not only was your dad partly responsible for creating Captain America, he was also a founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. Well, that's a mind warp if you've ever heard of one. Fucking hell, was there anything you actually really knew about your father? You were beginning to understand why Fury had that headache.

"Stay with me, now," Fury chuckled, somewhat amused, "It gets worse."

"Of course it does," you mumbled, slouching down.

"Hey, you wanted to be fully in the know. Suck it up."

You resisted the urge to toss him a mocking face, and opted rather to straighten up again.

"So, as I was saying... There were only a select few who knew about your father's real identity, so when other people started to notice that he wasn't aging as he should have been, he made the decision to travel to Africa under the guise of a mission. While there, he faked his death, and remained in hiding until everyone who had known him was either dead, or completely senile."

"Makes sense," you nodded along. Everything was still utterly ridiculous to think about, but you followed along considerably well.

"When you put everything into perspective, yes. It really does. So when he decided to return, S.H.I.E.L.D was completely new, and now run by yours truly."

"My dad trusted you right away?" you frowned, finding the fact a bit strange, all things considered.

"While I was being groomed for the position of Director, I was let in on all of S.H.I.E.L.D's secrets – your father being one of them. I made contact with him quite a few times – I even flew out to Africa to see him once – so we weren't strangers at all. But yes, he re-joined the division as a 'new agent' and from there things seemed to be the best that they could be. Then, he met your mother and he married her; not too long after, you came along. Things seemed to be even better than before. And then..."

"Lemme guess," you sighed, "The Tesseract?"

Fury nodded in confirmation. "Some of our operatives discovered it, along with Rogers, at the bottom of the ocean and well, since your father was the sworn Protector and all, he couldn't exactly ignore the situation. But he recognised that it re-emerging would be problematic in the future, once enemies caught wind that it had resurfaced.

"Now, for the entire time I knew your father, right up until you were six months old, he was a god. His entire time on this earth, he was a god. He never advertised the fact, obviously, and he only used his abilities when it was absolutely necessary. One of such times was when you were born, and he retracted your powers."

"He wanted me to have a normal life," you spoke, feeling a lump starting to form in your throat.

"He wanted that more than anything. Which is why the next use of his powers tore him apart." You instinctively leaned forward, wanting to catch every single syllable that came next. "Like I said, Erik recognised the potential for a threat, and he recognised that we needed to be prepared for it. He knew that the only way to ensure that we would win is if we had the upper hand. A secret weapon, if you will."

"And that weapon..." you sucked in a harsh breath, "is me."

"He restored your powers when you were six months old, but in order for you not to be outed, and for you to continue on in your normal life, he subdued them. There were some elements he couldn't mute completely, such as your resistance to cold and pain, or your above-average strength, but the rest of your abilities – the magic components – that's still submissive."

"Okay," you nodded slowly, rubbing your hands up and down your thighs as you furrowed your brows, "Alright. So, how do we activate my full-on Asgardian, Goddess of Winter and The Hunt magical shit?"

Fury took a deep breath as he leaned back against the chair. "You have to come into contact with the Tesseract."

"What?" you laughed nervously; upon seeing that The Director was totally serious, your face fell, "But... won't that kill me? Or transport me to another realm? Or... some other weird shit?"

"If it were any other person, yes. But it's you, (Y/N). Your father made provisions for you. Months before he died, he knew that they would come for him, so he made arrangements. Your father was a god. He was immortal. So how could he have died from a bullet wound?"

You pondered the question for a moment before slowly wording your response. "He gave up his powers."

"Exactly. And I'll give you one guess as to where he hid them."

"Wait... so does that mean... if I touch the Tesseract, not only will I give rise to my powers, but I'll also receive-"

"Your father's? From what I understand, no, not quite." You were looking confused again, so Fury continued, "I probably should've phrased my earlier statement a little better." He shifted forward so that he was closer to you. "When you come into contact with the cube, you won't actually be touching it. Rather, you'll be touching-"

"My father," you finished.

"Huh, look at you go," he smirked proudly, "I'm feeling a whole lot better about this situation already."

You smiled weakly. "Your faith in me is touching, Uncle Nick, but we still have no idea how I'll handle having those powers."

"You're a lot like your father, sweetheart. And so I have no doubt that you'll rock the shit out of them."

The two of you shared a laugh before you returned the previous discussion. You asked why your father had given up his powers if he knew that he might need them.

"He knew what was coming. The only way for you to revive your powers is for it to be kick-started by something from the same source. Your father was the only one who could do that for you, and he made sure that he could do it even in death."

You blinked back a few tears and tucked your hair behind your ears. "I guess that when I go through with this, and I revive my powers... the Tesseract would be a part of me too, then?"

"In a way, I suppose."

"Mm. So, what, Hydra wanted me so that they could try to harness my powers?"

"They wanted to activate your powers and then turn you into one of their weapons. And then..." he stopped and turned to look at the cabinet behind him. He stood up. "I think it's better if I just show you."

A moment later, you were handed a few pieces of paper. You recognised them as the blueprints from your dad's journal. They hadn't made much sense when you saw them months ago, but now, all the pieces fit together, and you felt a fire ignite in the pit of your stomach.

"Oh, my god," you muttered, eyes hungrily scanning over every single detail – every word, every symbol, every sketch, "They were gonna try and clone me?"

The blueprint showed plans for DNA extraction, manipulation, and insertion into other specimen. Hydra's plan was to create more agents with your genetic abilities.

"Is that even possible?" you asked breathlessly, gripping at your hair as you frantically turned the pages around again and again, "To clone a god?"

"A god, no," Fury answered, moving to stand next to where you were sitting, "But you're a demigod. Half human. If they could find a way to tap into your human genes and manipulate them, while simultaneously harnessing power from the Tesseract, the idea is not at all far-fetched."

"Fucking hell."

"My reaction exactly."

"Okay, well," you stood up, now on edge; your body was shaking with anger and a whole other host of emotions, "we have to get the Tesseract back. As soon as possible. And the first thing I'm gonna do with my powers is burn those motherfuckers to the ground."

"We're working on it," he assured. He caught sight of Agent Hill motioning to him through the glass office wall, and his forehead creased. "And apparently, we just had a breakthrough."

~

When the three of you entered the room, Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed; his entire body was drenched in sweat, and you noticed a slight tremble in his hands when he reached for a glass of water.

Brendon was sitting next to him, speaking hushed words. Noticing that they had company, he straightened his posture and conformed to agent mode.

"Are we sure you got through to him, Urie?" The Director quizzed with a sceptical glance at the no-longer-brainwashed agent.

Brendon used his elbow to nudge his friend, indicating that he should talk. Spencer lazily lifted his gaze to meet Fury's.

"Cuba. 2007."

The Director's lips twitched upwards as he extended a hand for Spencer to shake. "Good to have you back, Agent Smith."

"Believe me," Spencer inhaled, shaking Fury's hand, "no one's happier than I am. Man, I can't even begin to tell you what a shitstorm the past few months have been for me."

"Yeah? How do you think things were goin' over on this end? Nothing but chaos all 'round."

Spencer raised the glass to his mouth and slugged the water down, wiping a hand over his mouth after. "I can imagine," he scoffed, looking down and shaking his head. When he raised his head again, he looked over at you; you could see the regret in his eyes. "(Y/N), I'm sorry. For everything. I wanted to stop myself – and I tried to – but Hydra-"

You held up a hand to silence him, and offered him a small smile. "It's okay, Spencer. That wasn't you; I know you would've fought it off if you could've. Besides," your gaze flickered over to your bodyguard momentarily, before languidly pointing at the bandage on his friend's chest, "I think we're even."

Spencer grinned. "No argument there."

"Spence," Brendon spoke, causing his friend to turn to him with raised brows, "tell them what you know."

"Right," Spencer frowned a bit and shook his head, as if only now remembering the critical information he held, "There're two things I think you guys should know. The first one is that, The Asset?" Everyone nodded. "He's not the one who killed (Y/N)'s parents."

"He's not?" you asked softly as you felt your chest constrict.

Spencer shook his head. "Didn't you all find it a bit odd that Hydra would let you take him captive so easily? He was a decoy; planted in S.H.I.E.L.D's databases for the sole purpose of distracting you from the real threat."

"Which is what?"

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. "They call him The Phantom Warrior." Brendon's entire body went rigid at the mention of the name, but everyone else was too enthralled by Spencer's speech to notice. "He's human – he's not even genetically engineered – but he is hands down one of the best assets Hydra has. He's fast, he's clever, and he's an excellent shot."

"So, what? We're talking The Winter Soldier's twin?" Agent Romanoff questioned, and it was only then that you realised she had been in the room the entire time, leaning against the wall in the opposite corner.

"Call him a protégée. If The Winter Soldier is the master, The Phantom Warrior is the eager young student," Spencer let out a heavy sigh, "And both of them are only getting stronger."

"How do we catch him, then?" you enquired, crossing your arms and taking a step forward.

"No one knows who he is, or where we can find him... he's essentially a ghost story."

"We have to at least try."

At your comment, Brendon – who had been glaring at the ground and wringing his hands during most of Spencer's talk – looked up at The Director. They shared intense eye contact for a little while, before Fury nodded lightly.

"Hill, gather a team and get them working on it," he instructed.

"Right away, sir," she obliged, rushing out of the room to carry out the order.

"What was the other thing, Smith?"

Spencer gave a sliver of a smile. "I know where Hydra is based."

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Note: Don't forget to comment which chapters you want to see from Brendon's POV in the chapter titled
'A/N - Vote Here: Brendon's POV'

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