s (atrophy) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-07-11 23:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | !marvel comics, *narrative, steve rogers |
narrative, Marvel: Steve R
Who: Steve Rogers
What: narrative
Where: Banner's lab, Chinatown
When: right after this
Warnings/Rating: none
Check on Robert, please. Be nice. Kind. Just check on him, please. Please. Down Fifth Ave., Steve wove (carefully) around the snarl of late night traffic. His bike roared under him, hummed heat, and he couldn't hear anything but the wind in his ears and the carousel of his thoughts. There wasn't enough air for a deep breath. The wind tore it from his throat. Tell him I'm sorry. Not scared. Sorry. Please? He didn't know what he was playing messenger for, and maybe that set him on edge. (At least he knew who. That was something.) Still, Steve couldn't help but wonder what he was going to encounter and what he was sticking his nose into. What had Selina done that required his involvement? It wasn't his business, and he would have left it, until she asked him to act on it. Then it moved into mandatory disclosure territory, and he'd already bitten his tongue. He'd done enough blind following the past year under Fury's thumb, being given half-truths (which were lies to him; there was no such thing as fractional truth) and less. He'd taken down an organization built on lies, spiders rotting it from the inside out—all because no one told the truth, because they sold secrets and found in their withholding, power. Not knowing what he was walking into and knowing Selina had to clarify she hadn't left Banner, in whatever situation, for fear, ...worried Steve Rogers to say the least. And Friday night, NYC, Chinatown? There was never a good place for the Hulk, but this had to be up there in Worsts. Phones followed the trail of his bike. Shaky, dark videos of Captain America suited up atop his motorcycle, speeding away from Stark Tower found their way online before he made it to Banner's apartment building. I'll want to see him, and I can't see him. I did this. I can't. Steve set his jaw firmly. He considered the front door. He considered Bruce running at the sound of the buzzer. It was a risk to go in in a way that might startle, but... He took the fire escape up to Banner's window, boots ringing on shaking metal—he didn't go up the stairs, he just took himself up on outside rungs because it was faster, swinging with ease. His shield was in place on his back, just in case. On the landing, he paused. It was quiet. Lights off. He spent a moment hovering outside the window before he kicked it, hard enough to shatter it. He cleared sharp shards with a bracer and ducked inside. He stepped over the radiator at the foot of a neat bed. Someone shouted from the street below. Another video was uploaded to Youtube, a star-bullseye disappeared into an apartment. Banner had left in a hurry. But the lack of utter destruction assured Steve that he had been in control of himself when he fled. The truncated conversation about humanity ran through his head in the background and he frowned. Kindness, love. Mutation. He took the door into Banner's lab, squinting in the darkness. There was some blood on the floor near the wall, one or two drops, but nothing more. Steve thought the place looked hastily deserted. On the slate of a counter top, however, he spied a slip of paper. I'm sorry. "Banner." Steve sighed, disappointed? forlorn? sympathetic?. He tucked the note into the wrist of a glove, and moved back to the apartment, to jump out of the window back to the street below. He kicked his bike back to life and caught someone hiding behind a car with their phone aimed at him. He blinked, smiled, and pushed off. He had to call someone about that window. |