Eagle (A Loki love story)

Chapter 75

Plot Chapter
"Well, look who it is.  The running man."
"I caught the last few minutes, it's pretty intense."
"Yeah, brother.  We all got the same problems.  Guilt, regret."
"You lose someone?"
"My wingman, Riley.  We were flying a night mission. Standard, PJ rescue ops, nothing we hadn't done a thousand times before.  Until an RPG knocked Riley's dumbass out of the sky.  Nothing I could do.  It was like I was up there just to watch." Nothing I could do.  Just like then Loki went and got himself stabbed to save Thor.
"I'm sorry."
"After that, I had a really hard time finding a reason to be over there, you know?"
"But you're happy now?  Back in the world."
"Well the number of people giving me orders is down to about....zero.  So hell, yeah.  Are you thinking about getting out?"
"I don't know.  Honestly, I don't know what I would do with myself."
"Ultimate fighting?  Just a great idea off the top of my head.  But seriously, you could do anything you want to do.  What makes you happy?"
"I don't know."

The three of us ended up going out to dinner at a local diner.  It was good to have a long, meaningful conversation with someone other than Steve.  Sam was funny and witty and not at all shy because we were famous Avengers.  That was refreshing too, because whenever Steve or I got recognized somewhere–usually at the gym–we couldn't get any peace for the rest of the day and it was always in the tabloids the next day.  I quickly learned not to Google myself, right after my huge ring got spotted.  At first, I had laughed about their ridiculous assumptions.  Until one of them pointed out that I seemed to have a relationship with Loki, the man who invaded New York.  Then, their stories got too close to comfort and Steve made me stop. 
The three of us got on so well that we lost track of time, the restaurant actually had to ask us to leave because they were closing!  By the time we got home, it was after eleven pm and I was more than exhausted.  Sharon was up, going into her room with a basket of laundry and talking on the phone with someone.
"–I gotta go though." She hung up quickly.
"My aunt, she's kind of an insomniac."
"Hey, if you want, if you want, you're welcome to use my machine.  It might be cheaper than the one in the basement." There was music coming from somewhere, but I couldn't place it.
"Oh yeah?  What's it cost?"
"A cup of coffee?"
"Thank you, but I already have a load downstairs and you really don't want my scrubs in your machine, I just finished a rotation in the infectious disease ward so..."
"Well, I'll keep my distance."
"Hopefully not too far though." She began towards the stairs but turned back.
"And I think you left your stereo on." That's how Steve and I knew something was wrong.
"Come on." We went back outside and then Steve climbed up to the second story and I opened a locked window.  There was slow jazz music playing.  Slowly, Steve grabbed his shield and snuck around the bookshelf.  There was a figure sitting in the armchair in the corner.  I recognized the Director of SHIELD right away.
"I don't remember giving you a key."
"You really think I'd need one?  My wife kicked me out."  My brow wrinkled.
"Didn't know you were married."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."
"I know, Nick.  That's the problem." He flipped on the table light and I couldn't keep a soft gasp in.  Fury was bloody, bruised, and battered.  What had happened to him?!  He promptly turned the light off and typed something out on his phone.
EARS EVERYWHERE When had that happened?  How much had the goons at SHIELD heard?
"Sorry to have to do this but I had no place else to crash."
SHIELD COMPROMISED
"Who else knows about your wife?"
THE THREE OF US
"Just my friends."
"Is that what we are?" Fury stood up.
"That's up to you."  There was a blast, followed by a cry of pain and suddenly, Fury was on the ground coughing up blood.
"Don't...trust...anyone." He pressed something blue and silver into Steve's hand.  There was a pounding at the door, followed by the splintering of wood.
"Captain Rogers?" She had a gun, "Captain Rogers.  I'm Agent 13, SHIELD special service."
"Wha–?"
"I was assigned to protect you."
"On whose order?" She rounded the corner and saw Fury lying unresponsive on the floor.
"His." She knelt down and yanked out a walkie talkie. "Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive.  I need EMTs."
"Do you have a 20 on the shooter?"
"Tell him we're in pursuit." I followed his gaze the the top of the neighboring building, where I saw a flash of silver metal.  It was him.  Steve leapt through a window and onto the same floor of the adjacent building but I flew up to the top and ran after the Winter Soldier on foot.  I'd only been in close quarters with him before but it came as no surprise when he began outpacing me.   Blood pounded in my head and wind howled in my ears but I was slowly gaining on him.  The edge of the building was drawing near so I drew my unused pistol from its hiding spot and took a shot.  The bullet flew true, but bounced harmlessly off his bulletproof clothing.  He risked a glance back and in those few milliseconds, I made contact with those tortured, blue-gray eyes from my past.  Evidently, he recognized me  because he began running faster than he had before.  When he reached the edge of the building, the man leapt off, somersaulting onto the next one, which happened to have a lower roof.  Instead of following him, I took off.  The sound of shattering glass below me signalled that Steve was on his tail too.  I took another shot, trying to distract him and give Steve an opening but missed completely.  In a flash, the Soldier whipped around, caught Steve's shield in his metal hand while at the same time, shot off his favorite weapon to use against me.
Just like always, I tried to dodge, but the metal hook and wire wrapped itself around the base of my wing.  In the split second when he held me and Steve's trademark weapon captive, I knew what he was going to do.  The world slowed down and I prepared myself for the searing pain of a bone being broken for the third or fourth time.  However, something else happened when he jerked away and forced me to plummet down to the roof.  I felt my wing shift somehow, but not snap, and the pain was different.  By the time I hit the ground, Steve had somehow gotten his shield back and the Winter Soldier was all but gone.  Steve ran to the edge and looked for him before he registered that I was badly hurt.  Whatever he had done to my wing had only been made worse by my landing because I was finding it difficult to breathe.
"Mira!" He knelt by me, "How bad?"
"Don't.  Know." I was barely getting enough air to stay conscious, "My wing." He grabbed my shoulder and waist and started to roll me over, trapping my injured wing and then pulling it, wrenching a scream from me.  He jumped.
"Jesus, Mira!  Did he break it?"
"Don't think so.  Feels different than usual."
"Usual?  You've broken a wing before?" I was running out of air.
"You need to get me to a hospital."
"What?  Why?!"
"Can't.  Breathe!" Was all I could ground out before my already-dark world became black.

The first thing I registered was the pain.  Dull, mind-numbing pain in my right wing joint.  Then the voices came into focus, but not really.  I could barely understand what was being said.  Next came the constant, high-pitched beeping.  Hospital.  I was lying on my left side, with my uninjured wing resting straight out and falling off the edge of my bed, the other seemed to be in a brace.  The room I was in was....dark.  Not the fluorescent, sterile bright I associated with hospitals.  I must've made some noise because the next thing I knew, a familiar voice was speaking to me.
"Mira?  Are you awake?"
"Mmmphh, Loki?" The was a quiet, sharp intake of breath.
"Mira." No, that wasn't Loki.  The accent wasn't right.  Then I remembered.  Why would I think Loki was here?  Perhaps I had dreamt about him.  Or he was the one I wanted to see most.  It was probably the second one.
"Take it easy, Mira.  You're going to be ok, but they say you should rest for a bit.  Try not to move." When I opened my eyes, I saw Steve's face at eye-level.
"What happened?"
"The shooter wrenched your right wing completely out of its socket and you proceeded to land on it.  You got the wind severely knocked out of you, that's why you couldn't breathe.  You also got a pretty bad concussion and some whiplash in your neck.  The doctor said you're very lucky there'll be no permanent damage, you should be back to normal in a week or so.  They put your wing back in as best as they could manage, but they weren't entirely certain if they got it right, they've never worked with wing joint before."
"It feels ok.  Did you get him?"
"Who?"
"The shooter." Steve shook his head.
"He vanished when he jumped off the building." A door suddenly burst open and Nat came sprinting in.  That's when I actually took in my location.  We were in an observation room of some sort, the next room was an operating chamber and Fury was lying on the table.
"Is he gonna make it?"
"We don't know."
"Tell me about the shooter."
"He's fast, and strong.  He had a metal arm." Nat looked back at me.  We both knew who it was, but we weren't about to say anything.  Agent Hill joined then at the glass quietly.
"Ballistics."
"Three slugs, no rifle, and completely untraceable."
"Soviet made." Hill looked at her.
"Yeah."
"What about the wire he used?  Can that be traced?"
"There were no prints on what we recovered.  It's meant to be used as an anchor.  You know, the kind that can hold a lot of weight.  Standard issue for any assassin, special agent, or hitman.  Equally untraceable."  Well, there goes that.  The high-pitched beeping took a sudden increase and the doctors began to move faster, their voices growing more and more urgent.  Rumlow and a few other STRIKE team agents were standing against the wall.
"Defibrillator!" One of the male doctors called.  Nat's breathing got heavier.
"Don't do this to me." She whispered so softly that I barely caught it.
"Three, two, one, clear!" They electrocuted Fury, "Pulse?" There was none, so the voltage was upped.  I tried to sit up, and found that my right wing was trapped.  It caused me momentary panic as Steve gently pushed me back down on my side.
"It's in a brace so it doesn't have to bear any weight."
"Stand back, three, two, one, clear!" Again, with the same result, "Pulse?" The beeping had turned to a constant whine.  The surgeons slowed in their actions, their slumped shoulders saying everything.  Director Fury was gone.