Chapter 9: How Steve Met Him

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(This is not my chapter and the credit of the characters goes to their respective authors)

This mission, Steve decided, was not going to be put on his top ten list.

It was a cold night, his breathe frosting in the air and the ground crunching beneath his feet. The dull roar of the nearby water was a backdrop to his team. They moved quietly, expertly surrounding the warehouse with as little movement possible. The night was dark around them and the only light came from the moon and its reflections off the water and the cold, metal walls around them.

Crouching near the door that was to be his point of entry, he eyed the eerily silent warehouse. It was supposedly the holding site for some weapon smugglers who were planning on supplying terrorists around America. So it was, of course, SHIELD's job to fix it up before any of it could bother the public eye.

But, as all super heroes were wont to have, Steve had a gut feeling - a 'spidey-sense' - and it was telling him this place had some bad jujus.

Giving the hand signal to move forward, he jumped the stack of oil drums that served as cover and sprinted at the warehouse alongside his comrades. With one well-placed shoulder, the door slammed open, just about coming off its hinges. Steve moved quickly, spreading out and sweeping the room. With his shield at the ready and his team with their guns, they were ready for anything that might leap out at them.

But nothing leaped.

Instead, something ticked.

A cautious agent toed at a tarp lying in the middle of the ground; the blue plastic slid to the side and revealed a small pile of wires and a clock with ominous red numbers. It wasn't hard to guess what it was, because they'd all seen something like it a dozen times.

"Bomb!" Roared Steve. "Get out, get out!"
And they did turn and run but it did no good; they were barely at the doors before there was a loud beep and the ticking stopped. Then everything turned into flames and a shockwave slammed into Steve with the force of a missile and sent him flying. He tumbled across the hard cement docks, just skimmed a pile of oil drums and plunged into the waters below.

As he sunk, stunned by the explosion and weighed by his shield and heavy muscle, he stared at the murky depths around him. The only thing he could think was, frigid water feels an awful lot like ice.

And then he thought no more.
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What ever happened next was nothing more than a blur and glimpses of moments to Steve. He remembered darkness and freezing liquid, then a pair of startling warm hands closing around his arms. He didn't know how long he had been floating before those hands grabbed him, but he was alive, so it hadn't been that long. There was a rush of movement and suddenly the shock of air, wondrous air on his face. He was thrown down and something smashed on his chest, causing him to convulse. The water in his lungs seemed to coil and move around on its own and it was suddenly exploding out of his mouth and spilling across the concrete beneath him. Gasping for breath, he tried to open his eyes and only managed a weak flutter. "My team..." he managed to wheeze. He didn't know who it was that had saved him, but couldn't they get his men?

There was a hot touch on his shoulder, a blanket thrown over him and a voice saying, "I'll get them. Sleep."

The only glimpse Steve managed to get of his savior were of green, green eyes.
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Steve woke slowly, and it took him several moments to gather his senses. It didn't feel like he was in the cold waters, about to drown or freeze to death, but that's where his brain told him he'd be. What had...?

Then he remembered. Green eyes, warm hands and a breath of fresh air.

Someone had saved him. But who? Why?

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