#general flores

[lindseymcdonaldseyelashes]

Leverage 1x8 - "The Bank Shot Job"

Leverage 3x16 - "The San Lorenzo Job"

Leverage: Redemption 1x2 - "The Panamanian Monkeys Job"

[spencereliotwinchester]

Leverage: The Winter Soldier Job

Word Count: ~15.1k

Summary: When a call for help comes through from an old friend of Eliot’s, the Leverage team jumps into action, only to find themselves swept up into a much bigger job than they ever imagined.

Rating: PG-13: Canon typical violence for Leverage as well as Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Viewer (Reader?) discretion is advised. May be inappropriate for children under the age of 13. Contains violence, serious thematic elements, innuendo, and one instance of strong language.

A/N:  

This fic takes place in 2014, after the end of OG Leverage and after the Battle of New York. Nate and Sophie have gone off to do their thing. Parker, Hardison, and Eliot have established their relationship. The relationship is not extremely prevalent in this fic, though, it’s very light.

Obviously, the crossover changes the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier somewhat, so bear that in mind! I also made some liberties with our villains… Namely Moreau. In this Crossover/AU, Leverage did not take down Moreau in S3. 

Oh. I also took liberties with Eliot’s and Hardison’s middle names. 

This fic was written for @delektorskichick during the @leveragegiftexchange 2023.

Thank you to my beta(s) @mrswhozeewhatsis ; @wishfulstargazer

Banner art by yours truly

***

Eliot was sitting at the table in the briefing room, drinking coffee and reading The Fellowship of the Ring with the hardcover jacket of One Hundred Years of Solitude, so Hardison would never know he was actually reading Hardison’s favorite series. He was barely one chapter in when a call popped up on the large monitor, sounding its presence loudly; Hardison and Parker had gone to get ice cream after lunch, but Eliot didn’t want any, so he was alone. He stood to grab the remote and was able to answer the call on the last ring, his heart jumping into his throat when he saw the area code. 

“General,” Eliot said by way of greeting to the older bearded man who popped up on the screen. Eliot immediately repositioned himself into a more formal stance. 

The door banged open and Hardison and Parker entered, laughing and carrying bags with their ice cream. They stopped short and stared at the scene before them, laughter dying almost immediately. Eliot saw this out of the corner of his eye, but kept his attention on General Flores. 

“Good evening, Commander,” General Flores greeted genially, sounding relieved. “How are you?” 

“Commander?” Parker questioned, walking over to stand next to Eliot.

“I’m fine, Sir, and you? I hope all is well?” Eliot asked; it was a question, though he had a guess that things were very not okay if General Flores was calling him. 

“Terrible times, Spencer, just terrible,” General Flores answered miserably, face falling into a frown. “Moreau is expanding his horizons. My team doesn’t have a lot of information except that he has a new enforcer, ruthless and fierce. He is kidnapping men, or killing them, we’re not sure. At least thirty men in the past year. I’m hazarding a guess that Moreau is trying to build an army to rival the revolutionists.”

“Revolutionists?” Eliot questioned, confused.

“Apologies, apologies. I forget how long you’ve been gone. Many of the citizens have become tired of President Ribera’s tyranny; they’re sick of living in poverty and fear. There’s been whispers of revolution gaining traction for a couple years, but it’s exploded since the government is doing nothing about these killings and disappearances.” 

Hardison and Parker were watching the conversation in stunned silence. 

“Who is it? Do you know who the enforcer is?” Eliot asked apprehensively. 

“We only know that they call him the Winter Soldier.” 

Dread spread through Eliot, but he maintained his calm façade, “General, the Winter Soldier is a legend, a boogeyman, he doesn’t exist. This is obviously just some guy using the name. What do you need from me?” 

“We need help, Commander. I need someone who can help liberate us from Ribera and Moreau. Stop the disappearances. I believe only you can be that person.”

A cacophony of noise sounded on the General’s side; he looked around wildly, fear flooding his face. Men dressed in San Lorenzo military fatigues rushed on screen, grabbing General Flores. There was yelling and the camera fell sideways, going black. Eliot was shaking, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. Parker and Hardison looked at him, but he had no clue how to even begin to explain to them what was going on. Surprisingly, Parker broke the silence. 

“Who was that? And who is Moreau?” Her voice was soft, concerned. 

Eliot walked to the table and collapsed into his previously abandoned seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Parker and Hardison joined him and waited for Eliot to speak. Years of living in each other’s pockets had taught them that Eliot needed time to get his thoughts lined up. 

“Okay,” Eliot eventually said, looking up to meet their eyes, “I worked with General Flores once when I was in the army. It was some convoluted, half-assed plan to find some information. The team that was put together, the whole mission, didn’t exist on paper or in the military databases or anywhere. We were sent to an abandoned army base in Germany from World War II, and yeah, we found what they wanted. I found all the information about the Winter Soldier, I found research on the experiments and serums used on him, which led me to Operation Paperclip - Did you know the U.S. Government offered immunity to German scientists who came to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Eliot huffed a disbelieving laugh and shook his head before continuing. 

“The German scientists who took the offer were moved to a U.S. Army base and instructed to build something called Project Insight, this math thing or whatever to predict potential criminals-” 

Hardison interrupted, “Like an algorithm?” 

“Uh, maybe? I got to look at that file for about a minute before the entire mission went sideways. I saved Flores that day as well as most of my team, but a few of us ended up captured and taken for interrogation. We knew no one would come to extract us; our team didn’t exist. The mission didn’t exist. At that point, we didn’t exist anymore. Eventually, I escaped… with copies of most of the documents.” Eliot tilted his head up to look toward the ceiling, keeping the tears burning in his eyes at bay. He whispered, voice somewhat choked, “It was the worst situation I’ve ever been in, you have no idea. I barely made it out, I don’t think anyone else did.” 

Eliot fixed his gaze on the wall, trying to tamp down all the renewed feelings of guilt. He’d left team members behind, breaking every promise he ever made to them as their Commander. He tried to tell himself that he’d had no choice, that he’d had to survive with the vital intel he stole, just like he’d told himself a million times before. Sometimes, he still woke up, sweaty, trembling, and terrified that he was back there, with the screams of his comrades echoing in his ears for hours afterward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Parker whisper something in Hardison’s ear. Both looked stricken, and he took a shaky breath before continuing. If they looked like that now… His voice went flat, almost emotionless as he shoved all his feelings into a box and locked it.

“After that, I left the Army for good, worked for a couple private military contractors, and then, I’m not even sure how, I fell into working for Damien Moreau; he’s an entrepreneur, a- a- basically a bank for the criminal underworld. He finances the Russian mafia and Colombian drug cartels to start with.

“He offered me a lot of money and a permanent position; a regular job with regular income. I was his enforcer. I’d already broken so many promises and done so many horrible and unspeakable things… Moreau was a new low, though. It wasn’t a question of caring or not caring; I decided that caring just got in the way of the job. Then I found out that asshole - Moreau, I mean - was part of HYDRA. He started negotiating with Alexander Pierce, wanting to help them create an army of super soldiers. He offered his people as guinea pigs - the people of San Lorenzo. I realized Moreau was headed down a really dark path; he started asking me to do more and more terrible things…” Eliot hung his head, ashamed. “I couldn’t anymore; I wanted out, I didn’t want any more blood on my hands. I mean, I was just about as dirty as he was by then; I had done more’n enough by that point as it was, but I just couldn’t do it anymore.

“Moreau eventually sent me to gather the documents from HYDRA headquarters to start research and eventually, experiments. I altered the information as much as I could before I got back to Moreau, I changed the formula used for the Winter Soldier Serum and was able to remove some key information from the Winter Soldier documents - the way to keep the Winter Soldier from accessing his memories and keeping him under mind control.” 

Eliot didn’t look up as he waited for Hardison and Parker to process everything he’d just said. The emotions broke free from the box; anxiety and fear twisted their way through his body. The two shifted to look at each other, and a quick glance up told Eliot they were communicating without using words. He felt like a failure – he’d been so sure that his alterations to the information he passed on to Moreau would keep the project from ever getting off the ground. 

He stared at a dust bunny near the leg of his chair, waiting for them to pass judgment, torturing himself by imagining what their faces would show when they met his - disgust and hatred for sure. Parker and Hardison would despise him; they’d hate that he had anything to do with these projects, that he’d given the information to Moreau, that he’d kept it a secret from them, that he hadn’t made sure everything truly failed before he walked away... Ran away. He wouldn’t blame them if they decided to leave and never look back.

For some reason, Eliot started thinking of Anubis and the Egyptian belief of the Weight of the Heart. Despite all the good things he’d done with Leverage, Eliot knew his heart would never end up light. In his life, he’d tried to be good, to do the right thing, but somehow he always ended up on the bad side, doing more wrong than right. Hurting instead of helping. Good people with light hearts didn’t do the things Eliot had done. The belief was that if Anubis weighed the heart and it was heavy, Ammut would consume it and the person would never make it to the Land of Two Fields to see their friends and family in the afterlife. There wouldn’t be anyone there for him, anyway. He’d almost rather disappear than face the disappointment and anger he would see in Parker and Hardison’s eyes.

“Eliot?!” 

His head snapped up - it sounded like it wasn’t the first time Hardison had called his name. 

“Hm?” 

He tried to focus, but his mind was still running in ten different directions. Maybe he should just leave now, that way they didn’t have to tell him to go. The thought was devastating. Just as Eliot was about to force himself to his feet, Hardison went on and he realized that neither of them looked even remotely angry, just curious and maybe a little worried.

“HYDRA was disbanded - dissolved, Eliot, after World War II,” Hardison said slowly. “When did you give Moreau that info?” 

“The Nazis were supposed to be dissolved, too, Alec, and they’re still around today,” Eliot snapped back. 

“Wait, you told General Flores that the Winter Soldier was a legend?” Parker inquired, changing the subject.

“I lied. I didn’t want Flores to know who he is, that he’s a real, tangible, threat. He’s the most dangerous assassin to ever exist. Strong as Captain America, ruthless, with no moral compass; he’s a mindless soldier who does the bidding of whoever controls him.”

The last part of his sentence burned his tongue; Moreau had said those exact words about Eliot more than once back in the day.

“Are you going to lie to us?” Parker asked seriously, her face a mask, hiding any of the emotions she had to be feeling. 

“No, no, I made a promise to you guys. I won’t lie to you. I’m sorry I kept all this a secret… There’s a lot about my past I haven’t told you. I don’t really want to tell you, but if you ask, I will, I promise,” Eliot responded sincerely, silently hoping they really weren’t mad at him and that he would have a chance to fulfill that promise. 

“What do we do?” Hardison asked at the same time Parker asked, “Are you scared?” 

They all looked at each other, taken aback, and Eliot decided to answer Parker first - honestly. 

“Yes, Parker. I’m scared. I need to stop a man ten times stronger than me, I need to save General Flores and the people of San Lorenzo, and I need to stop Moreau from creating an army of Super Soldiers, as well as whatever other schemes he’s come up with. Realistically, I have very little chance -” he was cut off.

“We!” Parker exclaimed angrily, the mask falling as her eyebrows knitted together and her nose wrinkled. It enamored Eliot and had the moment not been so serious, he might have smiled.

As it was, Eliot was stunned into silence for a moment, blinking stupidly. Then he breathed out a shocked, “What?” 

“You’re not doing this alone,” Parker declared stubbornly. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Where we headed?” Hardison asked, jumping up - no doubt to find his laptop. 

Eliot scowled, but it would just waste time for him to sit here and argue. He also felt relief; they weren’t asking him to leave, they weren’t yelling or angry. Keep Parker and Hardison alive, he mentally added to his list of things to do. 

“Camp Lehigh. New Jersey. I need to know what information I’m missing, if any.” Eliot twisted his hands together as he watched Hardison sit back down with his laptop. Honesty. “There’s… There's something else I have to tell you.”

Parker and Hardison looked back to him and Eliot averted his eyes again, scared of what their response might be. He opened and shut his mouth, trying to form the words. 

“Before- Before I left Moreau, the absolute final straw-”

“Worse than Moreau offering up the people of San Lorenzo as lab rats?!” Hardison exclaimed harshly.

Eliot flinched, like Hardison had slapped him. He deserved it though. 

“I’ve told you, I was a bad guy,” Eliot whispered to his hands, still twisting in his lap. “I didn’t have much of a conscience back then. Sure I thought it was terrible, Moreau was doing awful things, but it didn’t hit me, the reality of it, until he used me as his first guinea pig.”

“He what?” Hardison spluttered, all indignation gone, while Parker moved to clasp his twisting hands in hers tightly; Eliot couldn’t help but stare at her soft hands and strong fingers wrapped around his, offering silent support.

“When Moreau’s geneticist mixed the first serum, the altered one I gave them, and was ready to do the first experiment… Moreau drugged me, so they could use it on me. I think he knew I was starting to pull away, that I was starting to have second thoughts about what we were doing.”

“We’re going to take him out,” Parker seethed, fire in her eyes.

“Damn straight,” Hardison agreed vehemently. After a few moments, he asked, “What happened then?” 

“I woke up strapped down to a table with these thick leather straps. I couldn’t move, let alone try to escape, and Moreau told me that I was the perfect subject for his first experiment. Already smart, strong, and loyal to him,” Eliot spat. “His perfect soldier. ‘You’re perfect, Eliot,’ he said. ‘All I have to do is point you at my problem and let you go. No fuss, no arguing, just a good little soldier who follows his orders.”

Parker let out what could only be described as an angry hiss, worthy of a pissed off King Cobra. Eliot knew; he’d nearly been bitten by one in Ramree.

“Well, it didn’t work, did it,” Hardison stated; Eliot raised his head and glared at him.

“It’s complicated,” he huffed, feeling defeated and looking away again. “I got stronger, more agile, and my reflexes and perception were beyond what was normal for an average person, but not all the strength was there, I wasn’t as ‘Super’ as I should have been with the full serum. I was able to rip myself out of the straps holding me down, though, and I fled. I took my go-bag, and ran away.” Eliot shot out of his chair suddenly, toppling it backwards, wrenched his hands from Parker’s grip and bellowed, “I ran away like a damn coward, okay?!”

Eliot turned and strode quickly to his room to pack a bag. He shoved his anger and shame and guilt and everything else he felt back into the box, locked it, and then yanked his old rucksack off the bottom shelf in his closet. He tossed it on his bed, then went back and grabbed his fireproof security box down from the top shelf. After unlocking the box, he dug through, pulling a hard plastic document case out. Eliot checked the rucksack: pulling out his black bulletproof vest, rearranging the gun holsters and carrying pouches around, then tossed in the document case, two outfits, a coil of rope, an expandable baton, his favorite hunting knife, gloves, and a multitool. 

He went to the closet again and had to stop to breathe through a sudden spike of anxiety. This mission was next to impossible and Eliot tried to think of a scenario where he could take down the Winter Soldier by himself; tried to think of a way to keep Parker and Hardison out of harm’s way. Then he remembered Parker telling him not five minutes ago that he wasn’t supposed to think about doing this on his own. He let out a huff of exasperation and was able to carry on.

He pulled from the depths of the closet: a tactical gun case, a pair of black combat pants, matching tactical shirt, belt, combat boots, dog tags, an old wallet, and his knee and elbow pads. Eliot stored the pads in his rucksack, but donned everything else, strapping on the bulletproof vest last. The shirt was a little tight across his shoulders, but it would work. He tried to ignore the way his skin was starting to crawl from just wearing the uniform and he itched to rip off the two small patches on his shoulders that read “ELROND-007.” He knelt down to the floor with the gun case and opened it with shaking hands, checking that both Colts were unloaded and the ammo pouches packed. 

“You hate guns.”

Eliot, for once, hadn’t heard Parker come in and shot up, nearly aiming the empty gun he still had in his hand at her. He stopped himself and a split second later he was repacking the gun in its case, hands shaking harder, breathing like he’d just sprinted five miles. 

“Christ, Parker, you scared the hell out of me,” Eliot ground out. He locked the case and shoved it into his rucksack, trying to breathe slowly and calm himself down. 

“You hate guns, Eliot,” she repeated, emphasizing the word “hate.” 

“Yeah, I do. And I don’t want to use them, ever again, but if saving you or Hardison means using a gun, I’m using the gun every time,” Eliot replied softly, buckling the rucksack. 

He pulled one more bundle of papers from the document box, grabbed the pack and met Parker at the door to his bedroom. He gave her a long kiss on the forehead, trying to convey his feelings of appreciation and love, as well as an apology for his outburst. She gave him a soft smile when they separated before reaching her finger up to - as she would say - “boop” him on the nose. Eliot walked with Parker back out to the table where Hardison was seated. Three bags were sitting on the ground next to the table and Eliot dropped his own next to them after shoving the book he’d been reading into it. 

“Plane seats are booked, we should head to the airport soon,” Hardison informed them, a look of surprise dawning on his face when he took in Eliot’s outfit. “Um…”

“Can you take these and just forge the dates?” Eliot asked, ignoring the look and setting down the stack of papers. “Keep everything else the same; I need to have active military orders, so I can take everything on the plane.” He pulled an ID from the old wallet and handed it over as well. “And can you change the expiration date on this?” 

“Easy peasy,” Hardison sang and got to work, pausing to look Eliot up and down again as he walked into the kitchen.

“He’s hot when he’s all lethal, isn’t he?” Parker sighed lasciviously to Hardison.

“You ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie,” Hardison agreed.

Parker erupted in giggles, “Eliot’s rubbing off on you!” When her giggles finally died down, she said thoughtfully, “Do you think he’ll rub off on me too?”

They both broke down into poorly masked giggles at that. In the kitchen, Eliot groaned and rolled his eyes, so hard he thought he might have been able to see his brain.

Hardison talked to Amy about keeping the brewpub running while they were gone as Eliot and Parker loaded the car up to go to the airport. Eliot couldn’t help but come back in and remind Amy that the special of the week was the Mediterranean tasting platter. On his way out of the back door, he also reminded JJ, his sous chef, to make the baklava to go with the platter.

***

“Why do you keep putting on and taking off your hat?” Parker asked when they were in line for security at the airport. “You put it on when we left the apartment. Took it off in the car. Put it back on when you got out of the car,” She was suddenly twirling the black patrol hat that had been in Eliot’s pocket around her finger. “Then, you took it off when we came inside the airport.”

“Because you only wear your hat outside, it’s a military rule,” he explained patiently, keeping the annoyance out of his voice as much as he could. Parker had been asking non-stop questions since they walked out of the apartment and they were starting to grate his already frayed and paranoid nerves. 

“Seems dumb,” she chirped, grabbing the bill of the hat and placing it on Eliot’s head, pulling it down as far as it would go. 

Eliot snatched it off his head and shoved it back in his pocket, ushering Parker to the security desk. When it was his turn, he placed the papers Hardison had forged, the ID, and his passport on the desk, announcing each, “Orders, CAC, and passport.” 

The bored desk agent looked at each one, then waved him through toward TSA. Eliot breathed a sigh of relief when he sat down in an aisle seat on the plane with Hardison next to him, Parker on Hardison’s other side and his rucksack stored beneath the seat in front of him. 

“Hey, Eliot?” Hardison asked about halfway through the flight. Eliot was reading, but looked up when Hardison addressed him. He touched the patch on Eliot’s shoulder. “What is this?” 

Eliot watched Hardison’s long fingers trace the letters and numbers on the patch before their eyes met. He leaned in to whisper in Hardison’s ear, “It’s an identification patch. Code Name and Number assigned when you join a special forces unit.” 

“Where’d the name come from? That’s the name of an elf from The Lord of the Rings, did you know that?”

“Uhh,” Eliot hesitated for a minute before confessing, remembering his promise to tell the truth. “They used my middle name.”

Hardison’s eyes widened and his face broke out into a look of pure glee. He laughed out, “Elrond is your middle name?!” 

“Shut up, Alec, shut up!” Eliot hissed, embarrassed and paranoid someone would overhear. He buried his face back in the book, trying to hide the red flush creeping up his neck and face. 

“Your parents - Is that why you hate Lord of the Rings, because -?” 

Eliot cut Hardison off with a growl, “I don’t hate - I swear to god, Alec, stop.”

“Did they use everyone’s middle name or did they give the rest of your unit other Lord of the Rings names?”

Eliot let out what could only be described as a half-scream, half-groan.

“Eliot’s been reading The Fellowship of the Ring the entire flight,” Parker piped up. “He was on page thirty-two when we boarded. He’s on page one hundred sixty four now.” 

“No, he’s reading some book about solitude,” Hardison waved vaguely at the book.

“No, he’s covered the book with a different dust jacket,” Parker insisted; she hadn’t even looked up from the book she was drawing in.

Hardison snatched the book from Eliot and glanced over the page he was on. His jaw dropped. Eliot groaned, slumping back in his seat; the rest of the flight was going to be torture. 

***

Almost all of their flights were delayed and they didn’t get into Newark until eleven p.m. On the way to the base from the airport, Eliot strapped on his shoulder holster and ankle holster before loading and placing his two guns in them. Then, he attached his extra ammo packs and hunting knife to his belt. He decided to forego the padding, but put on his gloves. Parker eyed him disapprovingly while he got ready, but didn’t say anything.

Crawling through the vents of a misplaced building at Camp Lehigh had been Parker’s idea. Eliot’s gut was telling him there were other people here, though he couldn’t place the exact reason he had the feeling. He was wracking his brain for clues when the grate he was crawling over gave way and he fell into the room below. He twisted in the air so his rucksack would soften the impact; as he got to his feet, Parker gracefully dropped down next to him. 

“Identify yourself!” A sharp voice demanded. 

There was a yelp and an oof sound from behind Eliot and Parker - Hardison had arrived. 

“Who are you? Last chance before things get messy.” 

Eliot peered through the dark room and recognized the man as none other than Steve Rogers. 

“Pardon?” Hardison called, offended. “Who are we? Who are YOU?” 

“That’s Captain freaking America, Hardison!” Eliot exclaimed, affronted, his annoyance causing him to revert to using his last name.

“Ooooh, and Black Widow. It’s an honor,” Parker smiled and gave a small wave.

“And you’re Eliot freaking Spencer,” Natasha mimicked back cooly, crossing her arms. “Good guy, turned slightly less good guy, turned bad guy, turned mostly good guy again. You’ve been teamed up with this little crew taking down evil corporations, AFTER turning down two invitations to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“You turned down S.H.I.E.L.D.?!” Hardison squeaked, staring at Eliot with wide eyes.

“Just the first time. The second time was because, technically, I’m supposed to be dead.”

“Do you think they’re after the same thing we are?” Parker asked Eliot innocently.

“Depends,” Steve answered, “what are you here for?”

“Elrond, zero-zero-seven, Commander of JSOC unit ALPHA,” Eliot responded in his most commanding voice. “We’re here to see if I’m missing any information regarding Project Winter Soldier, Project Serum, Project Paperclip, and Project Insight, so I can stop Damien Moreau from succeeding to provide HYDRA with an army of Super Soldiers. I assume you’re here for the same?”

Steve relaxed slightly. Eliot, with Parker and Hardison right behind him, moved closer to the two Avengers.

“We’re trying to find out what’s on this flash drive that Nick Fury gave me before he was killed by The Winter Soldier,” Steve explained. 

“Fury’s dead?” Eliot asked, shocked. 

Eliot, Parker, and Hardison finally reached Steve and Natasha in the center of the room. Hardison was examining a USB port on the table while Eliot showed Steve a copy of all the intel he’d gathered and explained how he’d altered the information before passing it to Moreau. Parker wandered around the room looking at all of the various monitors and workstations. 

“This can’t be the data point, this technology is ancient,” Natasha commented.

“Look at this, though,” Hardison directed her to the modern flash drive port in front of him.

“Here goes…” She stepped forward and plugged in the drive.

Whirring machines filled the room with noise as they booted up. 

“Initiate system?” A robotic voice asked from the central monitor. 

Parker came back to stand near Eliot, obviously concerned by what was happening. Eliot felt extremely unsettled as well, hair was standing up on the back of his neck; he and Steve shared a look of apprehension. Eliot shoved the documents back in his rucksack and shouldered it.

“Y-E-S spells yes,” Natasha said, typing it on the yellowed keyboard; immediately more whirring and powering up sounds filled the room.

“Rogers, Steven,” a German accented voice filled the room. An ancient camera moved around on a tripod, scanning each of them and at the same time, a distorted face was revealed on the computer monitor. “Born 1918. Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born 1984. Spencer, Eliot Elrond. Born 1972. Hardison, Alec Basil. Born 1986. And Parker, no-other-name. Born 1978.”

“Has to be some kind of recording,” Natasha muttered, slightly disconcerted. 

“I am not a recording, Fräulein,” the voice snapped. “I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but. I. Am.”

On a smaller monitor, a photo loaded of an older scientist. Parker stepped even closer to Eliot. Natasha half turned to look at Steve. 

“You know this thing?” She asked. 

“Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He’s been dead for years,” Steve offered.

“First correction, I am Swiss,” Zola stated. “Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body; my mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain.”

“How did you get here?” Steve demanded. 

“Operation Paperclip,” Eliot answered. “The recruitment of scientists to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. in exchange for immunity for their crimes of World War II.” 

“They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own,” Zola went on. 

“HYDRA died with the Red Skull,” Steve snapped, frustration evident in his tone.

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place,” Zola and Eliot said at the same time. 

“HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside S.H.I.E.L.D. For seventy years, HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. would have stopped you!” Hardison cried out.

“Accidents will happen,” Zola said, smugly. The computer screen switched through photos, Eliot inferred Howard Stark’s death and Nick Fury’s were not accidents. HYDRA had them killed. Anger started to rise through his body. “HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain, Commander. Your deaths amount to the same as your lives; a zero sum.”

Eliot and Steve moved at the same time, smashing their fists into the computer monitor.

Zola appeared on another monitor, “As I was saying.”

“What’s on the drive?” Eliot demanded, fearing the response. 

Zola chuckled, “Project Insight requires insight. So. I wrote an algorithm.” 

“What does it do?” Parker finally spoke, her voice a little shaky. 

“The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it. I’m afraid I have been stalling,” Zola informed them. The doors began to close; Steve threw his shield, but it ricocheted off the closed doors and back to him. “Admit it, Captain, Commander. It’s better this way. We’re all of us. Out. Of. Time.” 

“Steve, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic. Thirty seconds tops,” Nastasha yelled. 

“Who fired it?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Steve lunged past Eliot, ripping a giant grate off the floor and revealing a small alcove. Eliot grabbed Parker and tossed her in at the same time Steve pushed Natasha in. Steve jumped in, covering both girls, as Eliot grabbed Hardison and jumped in, shielding Hardison with his own body as the room exploded around them. Rubble rained down on top of them, knocking the wind out of Eliot, but he held himself off Hardison, shielding him from harm. 

When the debris settled, it took all of Steve and Eliot’s strength to unbury them. Eliot pulled Hardison out and patted him down; besides a few rough scrapes and cuts, he seemed to be okay. Eliot turned and his heart stuttered when he saw Steve cradling Parker against him; Natasha, covered in dirt, crawled out after him. They heard yelling from a short ways away. 

“Natasha!” Steve yelled, pushing Parker into Hardison’s arms. “Get them out of here! I’ll hold them off!” 

“Steve -” Natasha started. 

“Go! There’s no time!” Eliot roared as he tossed his rucksack to Nastasha. “Take that! You’ll need it!”

He and Steve turned at the same time, heading toward the voices. Steve directed Eliot one way, while he sprinted the other. Eliot slowed down and as he came around the corner, he cataloged the scene. There were four men standing fairly close together behind an obvious leader and - that had to be the Winter Soldier. Eliot was behind the group, and Steve was rounding the corner on the opposite side. They were all focused on Steve. Eliot timed his attack to match Steve’s.

He jumped forward, in between two of the agents and shoved the one on his left sideways and the other forward kicking the back of his knee for good measure. Eliot grabbed the gun arm of the guy on his left with one hand and as the next guard started to turn, Eliot punched him in the face as hard as he could with his free hand. The guy flew backward and Eliot disarmed the man whose arm he was holding, pistol whipping him across the face before dropping the magazine out of the gun, racking the slide and tossing the gun away.     

A gunshot went off from the fourth agent, slamming into Eliot’s vest. Eliot lunged forward grabbing the muzzle and shoving it upward while simultaneously clenching the front collar of the agent's shirt with his other hand and he spun around, throwing the agent over his shoulder, directly into the other agent who was clambering to his feet. 

As Eliot turned back toward Steve, he was knocked off his feet and skidded about five feet across the rough ground, immediately regretting his choice not to wear his padding. He looked up in time to see the Winter Soldier, masked, metal arm gleaming, pouncing. Out of the corner of his eye, Eliot could see Steve fighting the lead agent, dancing around and moving closer toward Eliot’s fight. He threw his hands up, catching the Winter Soldier in his solar plexus and grabbing his face. 

Eliot used the leverage to throw the Winter Soldier to the side, accidentally ripping the mask off in the process, then he scrambled to his feet to run to Steve’s aid. Steve had frozen, staring past Eliot; the lead agent was winding up to hit Steve from behind.

“Bucky?” Steve gasped loudly as Eliot launched himself at the agent, taking him to the ground. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” 

“GET SPENCER! GET HIM!” the agent under Eliot bellowed. “HE’S THE TARGET NOW! GET SPENCER!” 

“Captain, get yourself outta here!” Eliot screamed as he struggled with the agent under him; Steve remained frozen in place. “STEVE! The world needs you right now, forget me! Go! NOW! GO!” 

Steve gave Eliot a long look, nodded once, and sprinted away. Eliot was ripped backward and his arms were pinned behind his back painfully, then he was forced to his knees. The lead agent got to his feet and glared at Eliot as he brushed dust and dirt from himself. Eliot met his eyes, raising his chin defiantly.

“Eliot Spencer,” he greeted cooly as he stopped in front of Eliot. “I’m Rumlow, not that you really need to know. Mister Moreau will be so pleased, and I’m pretty sure the Chapman fellow has a score to settle with you.” 

Eliot struggled against the Winter Soldier’s grip, though it was futile. His heart was pounding in his ears and all he could really think about were Hardison and Parker. Parker - she’d been unconscious, limp in Steve’s arms. He tried to remember the last time he kissed Hardison, the last time he said ‘I love you.’ Steve and Natasha would make sure they were safe, though, and would hopefully keep them from going up against Moreau half-cocked in an effort to save him. He held onto that belief, it was all he had now. 

Rumlow pulled the gun from Eliot’s shoulder holster and seemed to admire it for a second before pulling back and cracking the gun across Eliot’s face. His head whipped to the side painfully, but the Winter Soldier kept his body in place. Blood began to drip from his cheek and nose and there was a coppery taste in his mouth. He raised his head back up, meeting Rumlow’s eyes with a glare. He was hit again, and again Eliot raised his head, glaring. Rumlow bared his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. 

“You wanna play it that way?” He glowered. “Fine.”

He tucked Eliot’s pistol into his waistband then unslung his carbine from his back. He adjusted his grip on the gun and the last thing Eliot saw was the butt of that gun rushing toward his head. 

***

Swimming back to consciousness made Eliot feel as though he were wading through the swamp in Doñana. It felt like he could barely move, and the more aware he became, Eliot realized he really couldn’t move. His eyes snapped open, but there was just darkness; he was blindfolded. 

“I think he’s awake, Sir,” the voice belonged to Rumlow, on his right just behind his head. 

Eliot growled, straining against his bonds. 

“Fantastic.” 

Eliot’s heart began to beat rapidly when he heard Moreau speak. He breathed slowly, trying to calm his frantic heart and the panic trying to creep into the edges of his brain. He tried not to think about the fact he’d been in this exact position before.

“Sir?” Rumlow questioned. 

“Yes, yes, off with you. I can handle this,” Moreau responded impatiently, moving closer to Eliot.  

Retreating footsteps, a door opening and then shutting marked Rumlow’s departure. There was no more movement in the room for a few minutes except Eliot’s renewed struggles. Finally, Moreau spoke. He was so close that Eliot could feel Moreau’s breath as he whispered menacingly into his ear.

“You won’t get out. Those are specialized straps, they’ll even hold the Winter Soldier or Captain America. I’d save my energy if I were you, anyway, getting injected with Super Soldier Serum takes a lot out of you, doesn’t it?”

“You’ll never get away with all this,” Eliot snarled in Moreau’s general direction. “Captain America knows, they’ll stop-”

“Captain America is the most wanted man in the world right now,” Moreau laughed. “He’s got a few other priorities. Plus, with two Super Soldiers-”

“I’m never working for you again, you motherf-” 

Something pressed firmly over his nose, mouth, and chin, effectively cutting him off. It was rigid and tightly fitted, making it impossible to move his jaw. 

“My, my, I knew you’d be lippy, but that,” Moreau tsked, tapping the mask where Eliot’s lips were and sounding farther away, like he’d stood up. “Your agreement - or lack of -  doesn’t matter, Eliot, you don’t have a choice. And even if you do somehow retain your mind? This special concoction? You have to have a booster dose every twenty-four to thirty-six hours or your heart just won’t be able to keep up - you’ll die without it; without me. My geneticist believes she has the dosing correct this time, so the heart doesn’t fail after the second booster. If she has it wrong… Well, it’d be a shame to lose my perfect soldier, but it’ll give us more research. I’ll just go get her.”

Eliot felt Moreau’s lips against his ear again as he whispered, “Hail HYDRA.”

Moreau left the room. Eliot’s breathing was quickening again, especially since he could only breathe through his nose now. Eliot was losing the battle with the panic and it started creeping steadily through his brain. If they had the mind-controlling agent figured out, this was the end for him, his freedom would be taken permanently. What if Moreau ordered him to kill Parker or Hardison? The thought chilled him to the bone; he’d never be able to forgive himself, he couldn’t bear the thought of living without them. His eyes were welling up with tears and when he tried to blink them away, a rogue tear slipped out and soaked into the blindfold. 

“-liot?” Parker’s voice, staticky, tinny, and barely audible.

He inhaled sharply, disbelieving, sure that it must be a figment of his panic, but then it happened again. A little clearer this time.

“Eliot? Come in, Eliot. Can you hear us?” 

Eliot did his best to make a noise of assent. It came out, “nngh!” 

“Are you sure these things work?” Nastasha asked skeptically. 

“Pardon me?!” Hardison scoffed. “Yes, ma’am, they do! These are more powerful than Stark’s. He must be in a sub-basement or something. Just took awhile to recalibrate the wavelengths. E? Are you okay? What’s happening?” 

“Oh, I’m telling Tony you said that,” Natasha chuckled.

Eliot sighed in relief, Parker and Hardison were okay. He wasn’t alone. He took a calming breath and began humming in patterns of staccato and fermata. Closing his eyes, he concentrated hard on the notes.

“Eliot? Wha-” 

“Shh!” Steve hushed Parker, then whispered, “Morse code. Paper?” 

He relayed the information about Moreau, the serum, and the serum contingency plans twice in full; just after he started on the third runthrough, the door clicked and Eliot switched quickly to humming the song he’d sung in Memphis what seemed like a lifetime ago. His breath hitched slightly when he heard a tray table roll up beside him. 

He had never been afraid of death, of dying, not since he went on his first tour in the Army. This was worse, so much worse, because Eliot was going to be forced to serve Moreau again, against his will, and he was terrified of being locked inside his mind, unable to stop himself from the things Moreau would ask of him. He actually had something, someones, to lose this time. He was heaving breath through his nose, there wasn’t enough air getting into his lungs, like he was trying to breathe through coffee straws. Eliot had always prided himself in staying completely calm, even in crisis; he was angry with himself for losing his resolve in front of his team and Moreau. 

“We’re here with you, Commander,” Steve reassured him.

“We’re not leaving you, Eliot,” Parker chimed in. “We do things other people can’t. Remember? Remember when we brought Alan back to Karen? We’re going to bring you home to us. Not dead. And more than a stupid recording. You’re coming home. No arguments.”

“You’re not alone, we’re here,” Hardison sounded like he was trying not to cry. He cleared his throat. “Re-Remember that time I sat down on a bomb? That job with-with Hurley? You stayed calm, E, and you didn’t leave me. I think that was the-the first time I really realized how much the team meant to you. Belonging to something. You didn’t fault me for starting to panic, you stayed calm. You stayed right there with me. Right now? It’s our turn to stay calm for you. No one's gonna think any less of you for being scared or freaking out. You’re not alone, E, never again. We’re with you ‘til the end of the line. Just like you’d do for us.” 

Another tear escaped and was absorbed by the blindfold. He concentrated on Parker and Hardison. He wished more than anything he could say something back, tell them how much he loved them. He should have said it more often, expressed how much they meant to him. Now he might never get another chance.

Reality hit him as coldness began to crawl through his veins; they’d injected him with the serum. Moments later, it felt like his blood started boiling. Thankfully, he passed out quickly. 

***

Eliot’s eyes snapped open. A light was shining in his eyes, but was taken away quickly. He wasn’t restrained anymore, but his jaw was still clamped shut with whatever Moreau had put over his nose and mouth. A flash of the Winter Soldier passed through his mind - the mask the man was wearing over his nose and mouth - Eliot guessed that’s what he had on. He was still dressed in his uniform, but both gun holsters were empty and the knife and ammo pouches had been taken from his belt. He took a chance and sat up.

“Awaken him fully, like we talked about. You have to activate him,” a woman in a lab coat instructed Moreau while writing on a clipboard. “Let’s test the mind agent.” 

“Evergreen. Longing. Internment. Oscar. Trivial. Alpine. Leverage. Physics. History. Abandon.” 

As Moreau recited the words, Eliot wracked his brain for the information on the Winter Soldier. Activating the Winter Soldier, he remembered, a series of words to link the mind controlling agent to the person giving orders. Giving the words in order allowed the person to give any command to the Soldier and have it followed without question. He looked to Moreau and when Moreau looked at him expectantly, Eliot gave a curt nod since he was still unable to speak. 

“Retrieve the doctor’s stethoscope from the counter and bring it to me,” Moreau instructed. 

Eliot kept his blank stare, though his brain was screaming for violence and cursing Moreau all the way to Pluto and back, but followed the command obediently. As he moved, Eliot could feel the change in himself, mostly the increase of raw strength and heightened perception. He took it as a massive victory that he was still in his right mind. For now, though, he decided it was in his best interest to pretend that the serum had worked completely. He handed the stethoscope to Moreau and stood next to him, concentrating on keeping his face impassive and fixing his gaze on the wall. 

“Do you think he’ll tell Moreau if we talk to him?” Parker asked in his ear and if Eliot hadn’t been as well trained as he was, he would have laughed. 

“No idea, Mama,” Hardison responded, “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Don’t tell him our plans until we’re sure he won’t tell Moreau about his earbud,” Steve instructed. “If he’s in his right mind like you two have been insisting, he’ll let us know as soon as he can.”

“How do you guys do this with this many people in your head?” That was a new voice. “And the echo, holy crap.”

“I missed this, Eliot. There was a time you would follow any command I gave you, no questions asked,” Moreau reminisced. “It’s good to have you back. I’m going to take you to Rumlow; we’ve decided you’re going with his crew and the Winter Soldier to track down that pesky little crew trying to sabotage HYDRA and Project Insight.” He paused after he stood up, then added, with a wicked smile, “I should think of a nickname for you, like… Lockjaw… Do you think that’s too literal? The Wraith? … I’ll think about it, has to be something that’ll strike fear into people.” 

Eliot was given back his hunting knife, ammo pouches, and two Colts, in addition to a Derringer and TEC-38 in a specialized thigh holster and a Skorpion strapped across his back. A pouch was strapped on his right next to his knife with three ball grenades. Moreau instructed him to stand next to the Winter Soldier for what felt like an inspection. 

He itched, his skin crawled worse than before, the taste of bile was in the back of his throat, he was thirsty, and his jaw was starting to ache painfully from being clamped shut. 

Eliot hadn’t had this many weapons on him in years. He felt heavy and weighed down under them, wanting nothing more than to rip them off of himself. He also desperately wanted to let his team know he was still with them, but he couldn’t chance it, being surrounded by HYDRA agents. Rumlow stepped up and handed Eliot a pair of tactical safety glasses which he put on obediently. 

Rumlow beckoned them; Eliot turned to follow and realized he was dressed almost exactly like the Winter Soldier. Like the twins down the street when he grew up, Timmy and Tommy; their mother had put them in matching outfits every single day until they were teenagers. Moreau looked positively giddy at the sight and Eliot would have given all the money in his many bank accounts to punch the look off Moreau’s face.

***

“There they are,” Rumlow growled from the driver’s seat as they raced down a highway in an armored truck. 

The Winter Soldier used his metal arm and punched the side door completely off its hinges, sending it flying into traffic, then pulled himself up on the roof. Eliot followed, guessing that’s what Rumlow would expect. Just as Eliot levered himself onto the roof, they were heading onto a ramp. The Winter Soldier leapt onto the sedan in front of them; he yanked a man out of the side window and tossed him across the highway, then pulled a gun. 

In his ear, he could hear yelling from everyone inside the sedan, but then the car screeched to a halt, tossing the Winter Soldier forward off the car and down the highway. A split second later, the truck Eliot was on slammed into the back of the sedan and he was thrown in the same way as the Winter Soldier. 

He flew over the sedan and skidded down the lane into the Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier growled, jumped up, then reached down and Eliot felt the coldness of the metal fingers against his neck as he was hauled to his feet. 

“Oh my god,” he heard Natasha breathe. 

“There's two!” New-Guy squeaked. 

“Which one’s which?!” Alec yelled.

“Eliot!” Parker cried. “Eliot, no!”

The armored truck renewed its efforts and threw the sedan forward again. The Winter Soldier jumped straight up, and Eliot launched himself onto the hood of the car, hanging on with a death grip. Then the car was out of control, fishtailing. It hit the wall, but before the car could careen into a barrel roll, Eliot dug one of his combat boots into the barricade wall and the other into the asphalt, stopping the car completely. 

As Eliot took a staggered step away from the car, he heard gunfire and an explosion, the smell of gasoline, fire, and burnt rubber suddenly assaulting his nose. The sedan was empty now; Eliot looked up to see the Winter Soldier leaping off the side of the ramp to the street below; Eliot sprinted to where he’d gone over, passing Rumlow and a few other HYDRA agents. He threw himself over the wall after the Winter Soldier, landing hard on his feet. 

“Parker! Parker, no!” He could hear Hardison screaming through the earbud. 

Eliot looked around wildly, eyes landing on the Winter Soldier advancing on Natasha, about thirty yards away. He started running, but froze when he saw Parker leap over the hood of a car and jam a taser into the Winter Soldier’s metal arm. 

He didn’t think. He pulled his gun out; the Winter Soldier had an arm around Parker’s throat, holding her to his chest, his metal arm limp at his side. Eliot fired four shots. The Winter Soldier pitched forward, releasing Parker who was swept away by Natasha. He could hear Parker’s objections to Natasha, hear her yelling for him. Eliot wanted nothing more than to go to her - to Hardison - but continued sprinting at the Winter Soldier, instead, who turned around and opened fire at him. Eliot reached him at the same time Steve did. 

The two-on-one fight was vicious. A few punches to his face from The Winter Soldier made his head spin, but he repaid the punches with some of his own. Steve mistook Eliot for the Winter Soldier at least three times, earning Eliot a few punches and one violent kick to his chest that hurt, even through his bulletproof vest. Eliot went down on one knee, winded. In his ear and from his right, he heard Steve scream. 

“Bucky! Bucky, STOP!” 

Eliot looked around. The Winter Soldier, five feet from Steve with a gun pulled, hesitated. A split second later, something came out of the sky, slamming into the Winter Soldier and knocking him into the side of a car. A very distinctive whooshing sound reached Eliot’s ears. He dove behind a car. Explosion. Sirens. 

The Winter Soldier was gone when Eliot peeked toward where Steve had been; the team had been gathered and were surrounded by HYDRA agents. A short way away from them was another armored car which gave Eliot a sudden idea. Two minutes later, disguised as a prison guard, he was sitting in the back of the armored car, next to another guard and the prisoners. One of which was a guy Eliot hadn’t met.

Steve spoke just after they started moving, “It was him. My best friend, Bucky. He looked right at me like he didn’t even know me.”

“How’s that even possible?” New-Guy asked. Eliot recognized his voice as the unknown one from before. “That was like seventy years ago.”

“Must have been Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43, Zola experimented on him and some of the others. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall from the train. They must have found him and…” Steve trailed off, distraught.

“None of that’s your fault, Steve,” Natasha said soothingly.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky…”

“Hey, we need a doctor in here!” New-Guy protested suddenly, looking at Natasha. “If we don’t put pressure on her wound she’s gonna bleed out here in the truck!”  

Just as Eliot was getting ready to take out the other guard, they produced an electric baton and stabbed him in the side of his neck. The current rippled through Eliot’s body, a soft buzzy feeling running from where the baton was connected to his toes and back again. Nowhere near what it should have been; perk of being a Super Soldier, Eliot guessed.

Eliot ripped the helmet off and, finally, the mask across his face. He was getting ready to take the other guard out when she pulled off her helmet. 

“Oh, that thing was squeezing my head!”

Everyone looked around at each other for a moment of stunned silence, then Parker was in his lap, clutching him around the neck and hiding her face in his hair, sniffling a little. He wrapped his arms around her but didn’t talk, his mouth and throat were dry and felt like sandpaper.

“Are we all on the same side?” the female guard asked, confused. 

“Uh… Yeah,” Steve nodded to each of them as he introduced everyone, “Maria Hill, Eliot Spencer, Parker, Sam Wilson, Hardison, Natasha.”

“Let’s get out of here and then we’ll have the family reunion,” she instructed. “I’ll get you out of those cuffs… Wait,” she turned toward Parker, “how did you get out?” 

Parker, Eliot, and Hardison all chuckled. By the time Maria had Sam’s cuffs off, Parker had already freed Hardison and Steve, and was working on Natasha’s. Hill cut through the floor with some sort of laser and ushered everyone out. 

Soon, they found themselves entering an abandoned dam. Parker had plastered herself to Eliot’s side, like she was scared he’d disappear if she stopped touching him. Hardison was so close on his other side that they kept bumping their shoulders together.

As they continued down the hallway, Hill called for medical attention for Natasha; the Winter Soldier had apparently shot her at one point during the fight. Eliot was flexing his jaw, wondering when a good time would be to ask for some water, when Maria pulled aside a plastic curtain to reveal Nick Fury laid up in a hospital bed. 

As the doctor set up a stool and medical supplies for Natasha near Fury, Eliot turned to Maria and asked, his voice hoarse and raspy, for some water. She retrieved two bottles and Eliot drank over half of the first in one large gulp. Hardison gave him a quick kiss on his temple then whispered, “Kiss for luck.” 

“Thanks,” he said appreciatively toward Hill, his voice closer to normal. He gave Hardison a rare, genuine smile and wink though. “Haven’t had anything to drink since we left the airport… Was that yesterday?” 

“It’s been about forty hours since then…” Hardison trailed off, looking very concerned. 

“You’ve got deep lines on your face, Eliot,” Parker frowned and traced the one over the bridge of his nose, “what was that thing on your face?” 

“I don’t really know,” Eliot shrugged, “but I couldn’t move my jaw at all. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you know sooner.” 

Hardison made a noise of anger, then spit, “You mean like a muzzle? Moreau muzzled you?! Like a dog?!” 

Eliot hadn’t thought about it that way, but there were more pressing matters. Drinking the rest of the first bottle, he gave a noncommittal shrug, then turned to Fury, “Faked your death?” 

“You would know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you?” He deadpanned. 

“Can’t seem to make it stick though,” Eliot let a wry smirk cross his face. “Like me telling S.H.I.E.L.D. I’m not interested.”

“I never thought you’d end up working with us,” Fury commented, “even after you left Moreau.” 

“General Flores called me from San Lorenzo,” Eliot explained. “Then we got pulled into this mess. What happened to you?” 

“Lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, one hell of a headache.”

“Don’t forget your collapsed lung,” the doctor interjected.

“Oh, let’s not forget that,” Fury rolled his eyes. 

“They cut you open,” Natasha insisted. “Your heart stopped!”

“Tetrodotoxin B. Slows the pulse to one beat per minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn’t work so great for him, but we found a use for it.” 

“Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us?” Steve implored.   

“Any attempt on the director’s life had to look successful,” Maria answered. 

“Can't kill you if you're already dead. Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust,” Fury explained further. 

“So what’s happening?” Eliot asked. “What’s next?” 

“HYDRA is going to launch three helicarriers to initiate Project Insight, tomorrow,” Hardison said. “It’s going to target millions of people. Not criminals, people who would change the world for the better, so HYDRA can keep everyone else under control.”

“If we don’t stop the launch, a lot of people are going to die,” Natasha added. 

“Including Hardison,” Parker whispered.

“What?” Eliot said sharply. 

“There’s like, a whole list of names. The helicarriers are going to target all of them and kill them when the Project is launched,” Sam filled him in. “His name is one of millions.”  

Parker burrowed herself further into Eliot’s side. Eliot tightened his arm around her and pressed a reassuring kiss to the top of her head. Panic, anxiety, and worry were twisting around in his gut, but he remained calm for Hardison and Parker’s sake. Fury snapped to get everyone’s attention and opened a briefcase, revealing three electronic-looking rectangles. 

“What are those?” Sam and Hardison asked.

“Once the helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites and become fully weaponized; ready to wipe out anyone HYDRA deems a threat,” Hill informed them.  

“We need to breach the carriers and replace their targeting chips with our own,” Nick indicated the three objects. “These will make the carriers target each other instead.”

“We’ll have to assume everyone on those ships is HYDRA,” Eliot stated. 

“We need to get past them and replace the chips,” Nick continued, nodding. “Then maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what’s left.” 

“No!” Eliot snarled at the same time Steve spoke.

“We're not salvaging anything. We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had nothing to do with it,” Nick argued. 

“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends,” Steve maintained. “S.H.I.E.L.D.'s been compromised, you said so yourself! HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

“Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave?” Nick responded indignantly. “I noticed!” 

“And how many paid the price before you did?” Eliot snapped furiously. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Natasha, Hardison, and Sam glance between himself and Nick, eyebrows raised in surprise. Eliot continued, “The Winter Soldier did. The people of San Lorenzo, do you know how many of them have died at the hands of experiments for an army of Super Soldiers? How many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents died at the hands of undercover HYDRA agents before you noticed?!” 

“Eliot did, too!” Parker exclaimed, gripping him tightly.

Eliot looked at her, surprised, before turning a fiery gaze back to Fury. He hadn’t even considered himself. A warm bloom opened in his chest at Parker standing up for him.

“It all goes,” Hardison said softly, putting his arm around both Eliot and Parker.

Fury looked to Natasha and Sam, who had both been quiet for some time. Natasha shook her head slightly. 

“Don’t look at me,” Sam also shook his head with raised eyebrows and pointed to Steve, “I do what he does, just slower.” 

Fury looked to Eliot who scowled and looked over to Steve, only to find Steve looking at him with questioning eyes. He glanced around to see everyone’s eyes had landed on him. 

“What?” Eliot snapped, unsettled. 

“You’re the highest rank here, Commander,” Steve explained, moving to stand in front of Eliot. “Technically-”

“If we’re talking about highest rank, Fury’s a Colonel, but we’ve all decided we’re not going with his plan. I left the Army a long time ago,” Eliot growled. “I don’t even lead my small team, she does,” Eliot nodded to Parker who was still plastered to his side. “Like you said, Cap, this is your mission… We’re just here to help.” 

“Well… Looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain,” Fury said. 

“Let’s go steal Project Insight,” Parker stated determinedly, a devious smile unfurling on her face.

***

Eliot stood next to Steve in the command center of Triskelion as Steve grabbed the PA microphone. Two unconscious agents sat against the wall, their hands and feet zip tied. 

Steve, Sam, Eliot, and Hill were in each other’s ears, working to take down the helicarriers, while Natasha, Hardison, Parker, and Fury were in each other’s, working to take down Pierce and Moreau. It was weird to not have Hardison yammering in his ear after so many years, slightly unsettling, even, like a part of himself was missing.

“Attention, all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. This is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days, some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce and Damien Moreau are the leaders. The S.T.R.I.K.E. and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury and it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not.”

Eliot turned to Steve and smirked, “Did you write that down first, or was it off the top of your head?” 

Steve shrugged, “Are you ready?” 

“Take down Damien Moreau and help my childhood hero destroy HYDRA? More than.” After a moment, he asked, “Are you going to be okay with the Winter Soldier?” 

Steve sighed, a look of uncertainty crossed his face.

“He doesn’t remember you. You might have to stop him… Permanently,” Eliot said it gently, but he had never been one to sugarcoat the truth.

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“He might not give you a choice, but for what it’s worth, we can try to save him.”

“They’re initiating launch,” Hill said.

Steve and Eliot locked eyes, both gave a curt nod and they turned at the same time, heading out of the room. Sam joined them on the way down to the dock. Eliot thought about Parker and Hardison, missing them terribly and worrying about their safety. He was terrified that something bad would happen and he wouldn’t be there to save them.

“How do we know the good guys from the bad guys?” Sam asked as they jogged out onto the dock.

“If they’re shooting at you, they’re bad,” Steve responded. 

They picked up their speed as Sam flew off. Eliot veered to the right, breaking into a full sprint to the end of the dock, launching himself off the dock and down to the slowly rising helicarrier. As he landed, jets flew overhead, shooting down at him. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, diving behind a shipping container.     

“LANGUAGE!” Steve snapped back into his ear, breathing hard. 

“Hey, Cap, found those bad guys you were talking about,” Sam informed them. 

“You okay?” Steve questioned. 

“I’m not dead yet!” Sam replied.

“Wait a second. No one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said ‘language’?” Eliot asked incredulously, running from behind the container and toward the entrance to the command center. 

“I know,” Steve sighed. “It just slipped out.”

Three HYDRA agents burst from the doors, guns drawn. When they spotted Eliot, all three opened fire. Eliot ducked behind another container; there was nothing but open space between him and the guards if he left cover. He grabbed the guns from his holsters with shaking hands and flipped the safety off.

“Falcon, status?” Hill came on.

“Engaging!”

“Eliot?” 

“Same.”

“You have eight minutes,” she informed them. 

“Copy,” Eliot and Steve responded. 

Eliot straightened himself, and took a deep breath. He stepped out into the open, and a bullet lodged into his shoulder. Three well placed shots took down the men. The hair on the back of his neck was prickling, but as Eliot looked around he couldn’t see why. Then, another jet flew overhead and Eliot ducked as bullets rained down. 

“Alpha locked!” Steve shouted. 

Eliot re-holstered his guns and made a break for the door; he was able to get inside, but as soon as he cleared the door, an arm caught him across his throat, slamming his head into the door behind him. He was able to launch himself to the side just as a metallic fist tried to connect with his face. 

“Falcon, where are you now?” Hill asked. 

“I had to take a detour!” 

Eliot scrambled to his feet and was able to catch the Winter Soldier’s fist as he threw another punch. Eliot threw his own and it connected, but from his right a solid body barreled into him, taking him to the ground.

“Bravo locked!” Sam cheered. 

“Two down, one to go,” Hill said happily. “Eliot?”

“Could use some help,” He ground out, kicking up with both feet to throw the body off of him. A smattering of red-blond hair told Eliot it was probably Chapman. 

“Sam, I’m gonna need a ride,” Steve yelled.

“Roger!” 

Eliot blocked out the rest as the Winter Soldier and Chapman came at him at the same time. The Winter Soldier’s metal fist connected to his temple as Eliot tried to catch Chapman’s gun. Eliot hissed in pain, but was able to twist the pistol from Chapman’s grip and was satisfied to hear the snapping sound of Chapman’s wrist breaking. 

Getting the gun from Chapman left Eliot open to the Winter Soldier who jumped on him and pinned him to the ground. The metal hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing as Eliot struggled to escape. Suddenly, Steve was there, pulling the Winter Soldier off Eliot. Eliot stood up.  

“People are gonna die, Buck,” Eliot heard Steve say. He missed the rest as Chapman tried to take him down again, but with a broken wrist and no gun, Eliot was able to take him to the floor easily. 

“Hail HYDRA,” Chapman buried a knife just under his bulletproof vest and twisted it, grinning like a madman. 

Eliot roared in pain, then, he wrenched the knife from Chapman, ripping it from his gut, and punched him as hard as he could, knocking Chapman out cold. 

“One minute!” Hill yelled. 

Steve had the Winter Soldier in a stranglehold. Eliot pulled the replacement chip out of his side pocket and ran to the control panel. He was terrified; if he failed, Hardison would die. Millions of people would die. He couldn’t let that happen; he couldn’t have any more blood on his hands. 

“Charlie locked!” Eliot yelled, turning toward Steve. The Winter Soldier was passed out now. 

“Get out of there!” Hill exclaimed. 

Eliot met Steve’s eyes and they both came to a silent agreement, nodding at the same time.

“Fire now,” Steve said with resolve. 

“Steve-”

“Fire now!” Eliot yelled out.

Floor and structural material fell around them as explosions erupted around them and when Eliot fell to the bottom of the helicarrier, he stood and made his way to Steve who was pulling the Winter Soldier from some fallen rubble. Blood was soaking his shirt and pants, but Eliot had more pressing matters to attend to, so he shoved the pain away and concentrated on Steve and the Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier lashed out at Steve with a snarl, but Eliot caught his arm. 

“Bucky you know me!” Steve cried out. 

“NO I DON’T!” the Winter Soldier snarled, yanking his arm from Eliot and hitting Steve away from him. 

“You’ve known me your whole life,” Steve pleaded. 

Eliot tried to pull the Winter Soldier back and in the ensuing scuffle, the Winter Soldier repeatedly pulled from Eliot and punched Steve in the face. Steve refused to fight, tossing his shield away and yanking off his mask.

“YOU’RE. MY. MISSION.”

“Stop!” Eliot snarled, getting the Winter Soldier into a headlock, though he didn't choke him. 

“Then finish it,” Steve stated with finality. “Cause I’m with you… to the end of the line.” 

The Winter Soldier relented, stopped struggling, and his fists uncurled. The floor gave way under Steve and he plummeted out of the helicarrier towards the water below. Eliot released the Winter Soldier and dove after Steve. When he hit the water, a shocking jolt of pain seared through his chest and Eliot flailed. He was finally able to break the surface, gasping for breath that wouldn’t come. The Winter Soldier swam past him, towing Steve with him. 

“Grab on,” he growled as he passed. 

Eliot didn’t have much choice, his body was barely cooperating with him, pain still searing through his chest and a throbbing pain where the knife wound was in his gut. After a few long seconds, he was slowly able to suck air into his lungs as the Winter Soldier pulled them to shore. The Winter Soldier dragged them up the bank and turned to walk away. Eliot struggled to his feet, very aware of the bloodloss he was experiencing plus the pain still shooting through his chest, and called out to him. 

“Hey!” The Winter Soldier didn’t turn. “Bucky!”

“What,” he turned that time, voice deadly. 

“Where do you think you’re going? We need help. We gotta get Steve back to the team. I can’t do it myself; he needs a medic.”

“I don’t belong here,” he stated, turning away again. 

“Don’t give me that! Your best friend needs you.”

“I needed him!” Bucky yelled, whipping back around and storming over, getting into Eliot’s face. 

“He didn’t know! If he’d have known, he would have stopped at nothing to get you back. Just like he did the first time.”

They remained nose-to-nose with each other, eyes narrowed and challenging. 

“How do you know?” Bucky asked darkly.

“Because he’s a good guy and you were his best friend and because I know for a fact I’d do it for my best friend,” Eliot paused for a moment before going on. “And because my grandad was part of the 107th. Steve kept you going, I heard all the stories growing up, so I know for a fact that James Buchanan Barnes would stop at nothing - nothing! - to save Steve Rogers.”

“I’m not that guy anymore,” Bucky shook his head, dejected, eyes dropping to the ground.

Eliot couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter. Bucky shot him a glare.

“If you’re not that guy anymore, you wouldn’t care that you’re not that guy anymore! Trust me, I thought the same thing for a long time. I became this twisted, evil, heartless ass and I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. I hated myself, I hated what I’d done, I hated my life and I thought I could never go back. And then I met these two… two idiots who were never scared of me and didn’t care about the guy I’d been. They got under my skin and showed me that I could… I could be a good person again, do good in the world again… Help people again. If I can, you can, too!” 

“You really think so?” 

“I know so.”

“Let’s get Steve back home then.”

They slung Steve’s arms around their shoulders and carried him between them, Eliot staggering slightly under the weight and his own injuries. When they climbed out of the brush, they saw their rag-tag group huddled not too far away in the parking lot, facing away from them. Parker was huddled against Hardison’s chest, his face buried in her hair.  

Eliot stumbled again, sending rocks skittering across the concrete and the group turned. Eliot smiled softly, seeing Hardison and Parker unhurt, though he was hit with a pang of guilt when he saw a few tears glistening on their cheeks. Another bolt of searing pain went through his chest, even worse than the last and Eliot’s knees buckled, sending him face first to the ground. Bucky was able to catch Steve’s weight, so he didn’t fall, too. 

“Eliot!”

His heart felt like it was tying itself in a knot and being put through a shredder at the same time. His lungs were spasming, refusing to take in oxygen. Hands grabbed him and turned him over, and he was met with the faces of Hardison, Parker and Natasha staring worriedly at him. Their mouths were moving, but Eliot couldn’t make out what they were saying. He forced his body to take in a breath so he could speak.

“M-My h-h-heart,” he choked out. This was it, his last chance. He made sure to look Parker and Hardison in the eyes. “‘S o-okay… We s-saved the wor-world… I love ya.”

Another stabbing pain, and darkness took him. 

***

When Eliot came back to consciousness, he was groggy and in pain, though less pain than he would have expected after everything that had happened. It took a few minutes to realize Hardison was talking near him. No, Eliot realized, he was reading. Eliot blinked open his eyes slowly, letting the words wash over him.

“‘Bill Ferny?’ said Frodo. ‘Isn’t there some trick? Wouldn’t the beast bolt back to him with all our stuff, or help in tracking us, or something?’

‘I wonder,’ said Strider. ‘But I cannot imagine any animal running home to him, once it got away. I fancy this is only an afterthought of kind Master Ferny’s: just a way of increasing-’”

“Y’ain’t doin’ the voices right,” Eliot complained gruffly, voice rough and raspy. 

“Eliot!” Parker exclaimed happily from his left. She crawled into the hospital bed as Hardison gave Eliot an offended glare. 

“Ex-ExcUSE me?!” Hardison placed a hand on his chest in mock indignation. “You give us heart attacks by going off and getting yourself shot, stabbed, blown up, and THEN your heart nearly explodes and you have the absolute gall to complain about my reading skills the second you wake up? The audacity of this man, y’all.”

“Come on, let him keep going,” another voice said. Eliot looked around Hardison to see Bucky and Natasha sitting next to Steve who was also laying in a hospital bed. Sam was in the hospital bed on Steve’s other side. Bucky continued, a genuine smile on his face, “I’m enjoying the story and I kinda like this Strider guy.” 

“I personally like Samwise,” Steve chimed in, also smiling. Then he added, “Samwise will be your favorite, too, by the end, Bucky.”

“I like Pippin and Éowyn!” Parker exclaimed at the same time Sam said, “No, Gandalf’s the best!” 

“Does Gandalf ever do anything except disappear for huge periods of time?” Bucky asked in an annoyed tone, turning slightly to glare at Sam.

“I second Éowyn,” Natasha offered, grinning.

“You see, all y’all are wrong!” Hardison exclaimed. “It’s Tom Bombadil. I understand why he couldn’t be in the movie, okay? He sings instead of speaking, it would’ve taken hundreds of extra hours and probably thousands more in costs. He was done dirty by Jackson, and we all know it! Just think about how much more amazing and real the movie would have been. Tom was unaffected by the ring, Tom was the purest agent of chaotic good they had in that entire series. He was a beacon of light and goodness. An oasis-”

“Alec,” Eliot interrupted warningly, wanting to cut off a tangent that could go on for another two hours. He’d heard it before and had no desire to listen to it again. 

Hardison crossed his arms, pouting. Then, a mischievous smile spread across his face. “Although, now,” his grin grew even wider as he looked directly at Eliot, “Elrond might just take the cake-”

“That’s it!” Eliot started an attempt at extricating himself out of the sheets and Parker’s vice-like grip.

Hardison squealed and abandoned his chair and the book to get away from Eliot. He hadn’t needed to, though, because as soon as Eliot began trying to pull away from Parker, she tightened her grip around his chest even more, which sent a flash of sharp pain through his chest. He wasn’t quite able to stifle a grunt. 

“Oh!” Parker released him. “Sorry.” 

“‘S ok, Park.” He settled himself back against the pillows and wrapped his arm around her. 

“Who’s your favorite, Eliot?” Steve asked curiously, looking over at him.

“I don’t have one,” He deflected. 

Everyone started shouting at him at the same time.

“No! You have to choose one!”

“Choose! Choose! Choose!” 

“That’s not how it works!”

“Choose! Choose! Choose!”

“Come on, just tell us, man!”

“Choose! Choose! Choose!”

“IT’S SAMWISE GAMGEE, DAMMIT!” Eliot bellowed over all the noise. “And I’ll fight anyone who says a bad word about him.”

Everyone fell silent as the door of the room opened and Fury came through; his eye wandered over each of them in turn before he fixed Eliot with a sharp gaze. 

“We were able to use Tetrodotoxin B to slow your heart down until we could stabilize it and get you here,” He started off, getting straight to the point and not bothering with pleasantries. “Natasha gave all your research to Stark and Banner after you were captured, which was a good thing because they were able to come up with some concoction that strengthened your heart enough that we could take you off the Tetrodotoxin B and so your heart wouldn’t need the booster shots.”

He went on.

“Alexander Pierce and Damien Moreau are both dead. General Flores sends well wishes from San Lorenzo where he has been named interim President. Now,” he paused before continuing, “maybe the third time's the charm? We’ve been data mining HYDRA’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship. We could use your help.”

Eliot glanced at Parker first and then Hardison, who had placed himself on Sam’s far side, as far away from Eliot as possible. There was no way Eliot could even think about leaving them, he’d promised them, Sophie, and himself he’d stay to his dying day. He opened his mouth to decline, but Fury went on, seeming to understand exactly where Eliot’s thoughts were heading. 

“We could use an extra hacker and thief too,” Fury added. “They are extraordinary.” 

Eliot was just opening his mouth to decline again - it was way too dangerous! - when Hardison started pleading.

“Eliot, man, come on! Take down Nazis? Work with THE Avengers?! Save the world again? You know HYDRA’s gonna keep trying until we take them down. This is what we do! Don-”

Eliot held up a hand, Hardison’s pleas fell silent for about two seconds before he started up again, this time with Parker joining in about saving the world, taking Leverage International to a whole new level, and various chants of “please, please, please, please” peppered in. Eliot groaned and let his head fall back onto the pillow. 

“Alright, already!” Eliot interrupted the relentless begging, a half-exasperated, half-amused laugh escaping him. 

They finally fell quiet and - wait, was Parker full-on pouting? And Hardison looked like Eliot had just told him there’d never be another nerd convention ever again. He sighed heavily.

“When was the last time I ever said ‘no’ to you two?” Eliot asked dryly, but there was an affectionate smile trying to break across his face.

Parker flew to her feet, still on the bed, and began jumping up and down in excitement. Hardison whooped and ran to Eliot, throwing his arms around him repeating “thank you, thank you, thank you!” punctuated with kisses to his cheek. Then Parker let herself fall back to the bed, throwing her arms around Eliot, too, and kissing his other cheek.

Eliot looked to his right and met Bucky’s eyes. He raised an eyebrow and tipped his head toward Parker and Hardison as if to say ‘Look at these two, see what I’m saying?’ A tender smile formed on Bucky’s face and he nodded at Eliot as if to say ‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’

***

Epilogue

“No… No, don't use your-” SPLAT! “...mechanical arm…”

Eliot sighed, hanging his head as crumbled beef and onion rained down around them and then looked up to the ceiling of the new apartment which was now spattered in grease, with a few chunks of food sticking as well. After joining The Avengers, Eliot, Hardison, and Parker had moved from Portland into an empty floor of The Avengers Tower; much to Eliot’s annoyance - because everything was hooked into some sort of tech.

“Ah, hell, Eliot, sorry about that,” Bucky apologized, staring at the ceiling, too. “I shouldn’t have been trying to do two things at once… I’m starting to think trying to teach me how to cook is hopeless.”

“If I can teach Hardison and Parker how to make pancakes, I can teach you how to make chili.” Eliot turned to the refrigerator. “I bought extra ingredients. Maybe use your right arm from now on, though?” 

“Ah, yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

“I still think you should do a cooking class or two with the PTSD group,” Sam yelled from the couch. “Cap and Bucky should go, too.” 

Eliot gave a noncommittal grunt as he put new ingredients on the counter and went to find paper towels. As he reached the pantry, J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice came through the intercom.

“Initiating Clean-Up Protocol.”

A small robot whizzed by Eliot with a little mop and bucket of water. He threw it a glare as he went back to the stove. He tapped the control panel several times, trying to adjust the heat setting as Bucky dumped more raw hamburger into the pan. The control panel wasn’t cooperating with him, though; instead turning the heat setting all the way down and then off, even as Eliot jammed the plus sign repeatedly. He growled menacingly.

“Sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said, “the stove detected the pan was empty, so turned the burner off.”

“Dammit, Hardison, come fix this, NOW!” Eliot hollered. “I want a regular gas stove! No, a whole damn kitchen! Kitchens don’t need all this! Next you’re gonna be having little robots trying to cut vegetables for me!” 

Hardison ambled into the kitchen, rolling his eyes as Eliot ranted. 

“Boy, you gonna hafta talk to Stark about that, this is his tech, not mine!” 

“Commander Spencer, if you like, you can initiate a power down of tech in the kitchen and switch to manual controls,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said. “Would you like me to initiate?” 

“Yes, yes! You’re just telling me this now?!” Eliot paused. “How many times I gotta tell you to stop addressing me as ‘Commander Spencer’?!”

“Sir, you’ll have to update your name in my system. I address everyone formally as it is entered into the personnel files.” 

Eliot turned slowly and pinned Hardison with a severe glare. “And who happened to enter my name that way?” 

“Mr. Hardison, Alec Basil entered ‘Commander Spencer, Eliot Elrond on 13 August 2014 at 2:32 a.m.”

Hardison immediately turned and fled from the room. Eliot turned back toward the stove and had to pause to take in the scene before him. Bucky was breaking the hamburger apart in the pan, adding the spices like Eliot had shown him earlier, but that’s not what made him stop. Parker was now perched on Bucky’s shoulders, perfectly balanced, arms resting on his head and munching on pieces of peppers, tomato and corn kernels.

“Parker, stop eating all the vegetables,” Eliot groaned. 

“You said you bought extra!” She retorted gleefully. 

Bucky plucked another piece of pepper from the counter and handed it to her; she immediately popped it in her mouth and grinned at Eliot mischievously. Eliot scowled, but inside he felt his heart melt a little at her smile. It was the smile she always got during a con when coming up with a particularly devious plan.

“Can I ask you something, Bucky?” Parker tilted her head to the side, looking at him as much as she could.

“Shoot,” he replied, sounding amused.

“Shoot what?” She asked, confusedly.

Bucky laughed, “It’s a figure of speech. Go ahead with the question.”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“It was fine,” He responded blandly. “What was stealing the Hope Diamond like?”

Parker immediately launched into a detailed description of the vents of the Smithsonian. 

“It’s good to see Bucky made a friend, isn’t it?” Steve asked, suddenly standing next to Eliot. 

“Yeah,” Eliot said sarcastically, throwing up his hands in defeat. “Fantastic! Great! Grand! Except they’re driving me to madness with their insane antics. I’m gonna have another heart attack! You know they bungee jumped from the Empire State Building last week?” 

“They- They did what?” 

***

After dinner, everyone gathered in the living room. One lamp had been left on, dimmed, for “mood lighting” as Hardison had put it. He was sitting on a pouf, facing the rest of the room. 

Sam and Natasha had claimed the recliners that were placed on either side of the couch, which left Parker, Eliot, Steve, and Bucky the couch. Somehow, Eliot ended up in the middle with Steve and Bucky on either side of him and Parker placed herself on the back of the couch, legs hooked over Eliot’s shoulders. He looked up at her and smiled softly when he saw she was eating yet another bowl of the extra chocolate pie filling he had made for her. She smiled back and leaned down to give him a chocolatey kiss on the forehead. 

“Okay, where were we?” Hardison asked, flipping through a book. “Ah, here. 

“At last the company passed through the trees, and found that they had come to the bottom of the Coomb, where the road from Helm’s Deep branched, going one way east to Edoras, and the other north to the Fords of Isen. As they rode from under the eaves of the wood, Legolas halted and looked back with regret. Then he gave a sudden cry.

‘There are eyes!’ he said. ‘Eyes looking out from the shadows of the boughs! I never saw such eyes before.’

The others, surprised by his cry, halted and turned; but Legolas started to ride back.

‘No, no!’ cried Gimli. ‘Do as you please in your madness, but let me first get down from this horse! I wish to see no eyes!’

‘Stay, Legolas Greenleaf!’ said Gandalf. ‘Do not go back into the wood, not yet! Now is not your time-’”

“Hey guys?” Natasha interrupted, an hour later. They all turned toward her. “Hill just texted me. Coulson found the location of Loki’s scepter. Meeting tomorrow, 8 a.m. in the main conference room.”

“Alright!” Parker cheered, beating her hands against Eliot’s chest, her hair cascading around Eliot, tickling his cheeks and neck. “Let’s go steal Loki’s Scepter!”

***

Thank you for reading this. I really hope you enjoyed it :) This was an insanely fun fic to write!

[apupcalyptic-art]

Some time ago I had a dream there was a zombie infection going on in Avalor, so I doodled the characters as they appeared in it.

Been making some more pieces from this AU, but I'm not sure this is something anyone here would be actually interested in 😅 Pls let me know if y'all want more!

[callachloe]

Imagining one of the Pedro boys saying;

"What do I have to do to make you mine?"

"Do you want me on my knees?"

(As he gets down to kneel before you, looking up at you with those beautiful brown eyes 🥹)

[flowerishness]

Camellia sasanqua

One of my friends is in hospital. He's on the tenth floor. Visiting a sick friend can be a dreary business but at least this Camellia, blooming in late October, is a cheerful sight. A tea made from the leaves of this Camellia has long been used in Japanese herbal medicine to strengthen the immune system. It's only appropriate that this plant should be growing in front of a hospital.

[lucy-shining-star]

I'm still really confused by Elena naming Gabe general and Mateo master wizard in the finale cause like I frankly thoughht captain of the guard is highest military rank in Avalor? Like...Seriously does that change anything for Gabe other than title? I thought he was only subordinate to grand council? And Mateo one doesn't really seem like title Elena could give? Like it sounds like something that if someone would be able to officially give is some sort of sorcerer school?

[islandtarochips]

How would your oc react to them getting arrested! :0

HA! Let us see where this was going.

Tiala - She'll be cursing everyone in Samoan and trying, AGGRESIVELY, to escape. While moving around like a mad chihuahua. Good luck with that guys.

Kanoa - He would be running away though. Dodging EVERY police men who was trying to tackle him down. (He use to play football and rugby so he's hard to catch when it comes to tackle him down-)

Agnes - She's running for her dear LIFE. She went to jail ONCE. She NEVER want to go back in there AGAIN. So she's just sprinting around. Man...that girl can RUN.

Nigel - He would be screaming saying "WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH! EASY WITH THE ARMS! ARE YOU THAT NEEDY OF ARRESTING ME?!"

Aelan - Would just take out the Uno Reverse card and she'll arrest THEM instead of her.

Alana - She is the GENERAL. She'll beat your ass for even lay a FINGER on her.

Callie - She'll be like Tiala. Being agressive while yelling "I'M AN AMERICAN! I HAVE MY RIGHTS!"

Rosa - .....when did she EVER get caught?

Koa - He'll be calling his girlfriend while still being in the cell. Asking her to help him to be bailed out. He would get an ear fold from her after.

[notmoreflippingelves]

I need to ramble more about Esteban Flores, because everything about this character and his arc seem as though it was tailor-made for me and specifically designed to make me absolutely feral.

This going below the cut, both because I do not want to spoil the entire show for my friend who is think of watching Elena of Avalor and because I go full-on apologist here and I feel like that will annoy some people.

Imagine making the absolute worst mistake than anyone could possibly make, because you are 18 and scared and stupid and tired of being ignored. And it results in you losing your family and your freedom and what little self-respect you had left because you know all of this is very much your own fault.

 And so you proceed to spend the next 41(!) years eking out a miserable existence in an oppressive state. Upon fear for your life, you are forced to be the reluctant right-hand of the evil witch-queen who conquered your country, killed your aunt and uncle and trapped your cousin in magical prison. In spite of this, you nevertheless do everything within your limited power trying to hold the kingdom together and make sure the people don't starve, because the queen certainly doesn't care about anything except greedily bleeding your country dry.

And no exaggeration, this is just what canon explicitly gives us outright in the pilot. Like that's not even getting into head canons/interpretations/common sense of what exactly this sort of life entailed for you. Because this is a children's show so there's only so much they will let us imply about living under that kind of system. Especially as a young, attractive, terrified person who is the last living member of the previous royal family who is likely being kept alive partly as a combination trophy/punching bag for the evil queen (even if the show never actually states this outright).

And then by some miracle, what's left of your family comes back after all this time. The evil queen is overthrown, partly because you yourself finally stood up to her at a critical moment. You and your country are finally free again, and what's more, you and your family are finally together again after over 4 decades. But you still feel like an outsider--partly because you always were an outsider in your family even in the better times and partly because  over the past 41(!) years, time stood still for all of them except you.

And as a result, no one ever cares to ask what those 41 years were like for you or even just if you’re doing okay. Not only because your family can’t even begin to comprehend what it must have been like, but also because they don’t care to even *try* to understand. Because the narrative has decided that everyone else’s respective traumas is worth way more than your own.  (Though tbf the narrative really doesn’t dwell much on anyone’s trauma in general but yours gets especially neglected , except to briefly play it for laughs or to remind you that your trauma is *your own fault and only your own*).

For a little while, life is pretty okay. It’s weird not having to watch your step every instant to make sure you’re not putting a toe out of line. And so you never really fully break out of your “survival mode” conditioning, making sure that you are still considered important and valuable enough to keep around.

But all the while, you know that your past—and especially your terrible little secret—is eventually going to come back to haunt you. And it does. First via blackmail and then via the return  of the evil witch-queen herself. Fortunately, she is defeated for good before she can take avenge your “betrayal of her” but you still have to deal with seeing the ghost from the past who terrorized you for 41(!) years.

And then, your secret finally comes out in the open and you are disowned by your family—the family you *just* got back a few years ago—for an admittedly super bad decision that you made over four decades ago and have regretted ever since.  Rather than face the rest of your life in isolation (as though you didn’t already have enough of that during the previous regime), you escape before you can be sent into exile. This puts you directly in the path of *another* terrifying, evil magical milf who you are forced to ally yourself with. Because you have 40+ years of conditioning that when a woman like that says “jump,” you say “how high?” if you are to have any hope of survival.  Especially given that the only people who could’ve protected you from her are the family and friends who have just definitively washed their hands of you.

Despite this, you are still trying to seek your cousin’s forgiveness and to protect her in the little ways that you can. But you are constantly getting rebuffed over and over again, and if anything, your attempts at reconciliation only seem to make your cousin angrier, and she now hates you just as much as—if not MORE than—the woman who actually murdered her parents.

Your cousin is so angry at you specifically that she actively ignores the greater threat of Witchy Milf 2.0, because she happens to see your face and is enraged. This ends up backfiring spectacularly for you both, though it does indirectly lead to the defeat of said Witchy Milf 2.0.

But guess what?  There’s no time to breathe or celebrate, because her defeat occurred during the successful summoning of a third power-mad, feminine-presenting magical humanoid and her allies. At least, this one treats you with some initial respect and actually gives you outright what you-think-you’ve-thought-you-always wanted. But she also turns your family and friends to stone in front of you as a warning of what’s to come if you dare to defy her.

But this time, you are finally done with this, have finally lost enough that you have paradoxically found your courage. You sacrifice yourself to save your cousin, and she is finally able to accept that you’ve sacrificed and changed enough that she can forgive you. And her forgiveness is so powerful and pure that it not only restores you to life but also undoes all the other evil magic. Together, you defeat this final enemy, paradoxically by banishing her to the same Underworld where your mistakes accidentally sent your aunt and uncle and her parents long ago.  Peace has been restored. You have returned for good and are finally secure in your family’s love.

And after all that, there are *still* people (both presumably in universe and in the fandom outside of it) who say it's too little, too late and that it would've been better for everyone if you'd simply stayed dead.

Like I'm just... are we really victim-blaming the character who has 45 years of unprocessed trauma and guilt (both survivor's guilt and guilt in general) because of a decision he made when his brain was still developing and he was being manipulated by an older, much more powerful person?

[lilacthebooklover]

EoA Incorrect Quotes... But The Names Are Randomised By A Generator

Victor, in Shuriki’s window: I thought I’d find you here! Mateo, climbing past Victor: WE COULD HAVE USED THE DOOR-

Ash: How do ethical philosophers feel about murder? Naomi: Well, it’s frowned upon. Ash: Okay, but what if the reason you want to murder someone is to make your life easier? Ash: That’s okay, right?

Mateo, digging his grave: Long story short, this is my grave.......Want me to make you one too?

Armando: Guys! I found a 100 dollar bill! Armando: *looks around* ….Should I keep it? Elena: Armando, just do the right thing. Victor: And put in your bag. Elena: No—

Shuriki: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn't what I meant. Carla, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I'm TOO friendly? There's no pleasing you. Ash, who broke into their house an hour ago: Two sugars please. Carla: Coming right up.

Carla: Ugh, the printer broke while printing out Esteban's birthday invitations. Naomi: Well, what are they supposed to say? Carla: "Esteban's birthday". Naomi: So, what do they say instead? Carla: "Esteban’s bi". Naomi: Naomi: Works out either way.

Gabe: My only talent is being stress. Luisa: Don't you mean stressed? Gabe: No.

Dona Paloma, wiping tears from their eyes: If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, it’s meant to be… Isabel: I’m literally just going to the store.

*Dona Paloma is in the kitchen and they hear a crash from the living room* Dona Paloma, running into the living room: WHAT ON EARTH HAPPENED HERE?!?! Esteban, looking at the broken TV screen and the remote on the floor: I was trying to throw the remote onto the TV stand! Dona Paloma: And Shuriki didn’t stop you?! Esteban, pointing at a sleeping Shuriki: She's been asleep for the past three hours. Victor, walking in, oblivious to the situation: Hey guys- Victor, realizing: Wait, is the TV broken? Why?! Dona Paloma, pointing at Esteban: He threw the remote onto the TV stand. Victor: Come on! That’s the 5th time this week and it’s 2 in the morning on a Tuesday! Shuriki, waking up to see the situation: *yawns* How long was I out? Shuriki, seeing the broken TV: OH GOSH NOT AGAIN! ESTEBAN, I TOLD YOU NOT TO! Esteban: You were asleep! And I always take a window of opportunity when I see it! Dona Paloma and Victor, in unison: But you broke the- Esteban: My work here is done. If anyone asks, I was never here. *dashes out of the living room*

Francisco: What if we were stranded on a desert island? Who would you eat? Naomi: Mateo. Francisco: So fast? Wh-what about me? I would eat you! Naomi: That’s very nice, I guess. Francisco: Why wouldn’t you eat me? I’m your best friend. Naomi: Look, if other people are having some, I’ll try you.

Dona Paloma: How would you like your coffee? Luisa: As dark and as bitter as my soul. Dona Paloma, shouting to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar!

Elena: So, I've been thinking Isabel- Isabel: That's dangerous.

Mateo, acting tough: You guys don't want to mess with me. Gabe: Yeah, Mateo will straight up cry in public. Don't try him. Mateo: Exactly, I will straight up- Mateo: Mateo, tearing up: Gabe, why would you say that?!

Shuriki: Elena is okay. Armando: She's okay? She said she was going to break my legs! And don't tell me she didn't mean it, okay?! 'Cause she gave me the mackerel eyes, she meant it! Shuriki: Armando, Elena threatened me. She threatens Carla every day. She probably threatened Luisa before breakfast this morning. It's what she does. Grow a pair.

Francisco: Hey, wanna hear a funny joke? Isabel: I only like dark humor. Francisco, turning the lights off: What do you call a fake noodle? Isabel: Francisco: An IMPASTA!

Shuriki: I'm not doing too well. Isabel: What's wrong? Shuriki: I have this headache that comes and goes. *Mateo enters the room* Shuriki: There it is again.

Carla: So, you lied to me? Fiero: That depends on how you define lying. Carla: Well, I define it as not telling the truth. How do you define it? Fiero: Um, reclining your body in a horizontal position?

Naomi: Esteban, don’t go picking a fight with Gabe. Don’t forget, he's powerful, he could make life difficult for you. Esteban: Wow, I wonder what it'd be like to have a difficult life.

Isabel: I drink to forget but I always remember. Carla: You're drinking orange juice.

Esteban: Oh no! I’m doomed! Isabel: Seriously? All you have to do is not insult Dona Paloma at her own memorial service. Esteban: Exactly! It’s impossible!

(I really want the stories behind these adlsjflhk)

[akitasimblr]

generation four was indeed a special one! returning to brindleton bay and to ulysses' house brought a lot of fuzzy feelings to my heart ❤️

beginning (GEN10) | previous | next

[stalinthegoat]

Maria Campbell and Noelia Flores as delicious cakes, generated by AI.

I'd still eat them both, delicious girls 😋

[lindseymcdonaldseyelashes]

Leverage 3x16 - "The San Lorenzo Job"

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

LATE NIGHT RAMBLING TIME!!!!!!!

All the magical weapons in Elena of Avalor are so good for like, bonking somebody over the head with. Just like a real good smack. Cuz- cuz they're all so l o n g. And tamboritas have huge flat circles on the ends!!! That is perfect for bonking!

The scepters of light/night are both made of metal/crystals and pointy, same goes for Esteban's staff. Getting hit on the head with metal rods really fucking hurts! So does pointy stuff!!!

Man I wish there was a scene where like Elena or Mateo or Esteban or SOMEONE just like, ran out of ideas or smthn in the middle of a battle and hit somebody really fucking hard on the top of their head. And gave them a concussion or smthn. That would've been funny.

If you can't tell I'm really fucking tired rn-

[dc-tournaments]

Why do they deserve to win?

Tarantula (TW rape)

General Immortus

[callachloe]

Imagining one of the Pedro boys again...

"We shouldn't be doing this," you breathe as he trails kisses down your neck.

"Tell me right now you don't want me, and I'll stop," he says as he brings his face up to yours, an almost pained expression now spread across his face.

He searches your eyes, desperate for your reply.

"I want you...more than anything," you almost plead as you pull him closer.

(feel free to add any of your own thots 😏)

[livsoulsecrets]

#INFJ characters: And will you still want me when I’m nothing new?

Audio: roryfearless (tiktok)

Scenespack: Lesbian.scenepacks (IG), FandomVids, Poc_Supmcy, nelson scenepacks, logolesspack, water biscuit (YouTube)