мой лесной пожар | @storiesofwildfire·
♔—- “So you reserved the compliment for after I already convinced you to escape, hmm?” Wildfire murmured, the amusement clear in his tone. Then again, it had always been there. From day one, Wildfire showed the most resemblance of his past self in the face of any other asset. Hydra tried, desperately, to stamp those personality quirks out of him, to make him neutral, compliant, and built back up again with the same loyalty that Winter felt towards his handlers.
The reward system hadn’t worked with Wildfire, though, because he knew, no matter how much praise he received or how many treats were given, the moment the haze cleared from his last wipe, they would wipe him again immediately. The gain never outweighed the torment and even fresh out of the procedure, Wildfire knew it was only a matter of time before it happened again. No amount of loyalty could change that because their methods were inefficient and unable to break him down to the core.
Most of the time, it had only been a matter of days before that pain would come again, before Hydra locked him away in a cage until the next time they felt his particular gifts could be useful.
And that didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what else they did to him. When not in the field, they often subjected him to tests of endurance to measure his physical and magical capability. Studies to understand how powerful their unpredictable asset truly was and methods on how they may be able to mirror that in new assets–assets they could successfully break. They looked at Loki like something valuable but only temporarily so, because eventually, they sought to perfect what they could not get from him.
Once they could replicate Wildfire’s best attributes in someone ready to serve without the backtalk, the resistance, and the constant personality quirks that took away from the mission, they would dispose of him.
Perhaps that was why Wildfire had truly been so willing to rebel against them? Even in their attempts to form patterns of loyalty, the rogue asset always knew the truth, that he was not what they wanted because he was too erratic and he would be tossed aside as soon as they could replicate him.
Which… would never truly be possible, but he didn’t know that for certain.
Winter’s following statement, though? Well, that did ease some of the tension that lingered in preparing for the inevitable pain. It wasn’t brought about by an awestruck nature or to tease, it was, perhaps, one of the most genuine things he’d ever heard Winter say. Eyes fell shut, relishing silently in the compliment and little burst of Winter’s claim that followed. It seemed strange to enjoy the sentiment behind ‘my beautiful wildfire’ when Wildfire worked so diligently to severe Hydra’s claim of ownership over them both, but with Winter, it wasn’t about ownership, it was trust.
Winter trusted him enough to run away from the only thing he’d know for years. Wildfire, in turn, trusted Winter enough not to betray him. He promised himself to Winter, but Winter promised himself in return. They did not own one another, they existed together, because of one another, and there was beauty in that, relief in it, and a future that was not part of Hydra.
The tip of Winter’s knife broke skin, though, and that immediately pulled Wildfire’s mind away from the mushy fawning over the new development in their relationship. His jaw clenched and he took in a deep breath through his nose, purposefully holding it for several seconds, before releasing it.
As far as the pain went, this was mild in comparison to a lot of what he’d felt in the past, but it wasn’t enjoyable by any means. Very few forms of pain ever really were, but Winter was quick and diligent about it and as quickly as the pain came, it eased again.
Warm blood oozed from the cut, leaking out profusely as Winter yanked the small device from his neck. Once free of Hydra’s implant, though, the former asset’s skin immediately began knitting itself back together, as if the incision hadn’t happened at all. Before he had much time to reach up and feel the wound, it had closed again, leaving no signs of true scarring, and blood that anyone would have assumed belonged to someone else given there were no visible signs of damage.
With a quick wave of the hand, the blood disappeared, evaporated into nothing, and he pushed himself up to his feet without much in the way of complaint. He didn’t even feel lightheaded, which was good, because they needed to move.
“I’m okay,” he said, turning back to Winter. “Thank you for being effective and quick about it rather than drawing it out.”
Winter took up most of their supplies, Loki took up the rest and shouldered the bag. It was uncomfortably light considering what they were used to, but then again, they were leaving 90% of their equipment behind and really only focusing on taking food and water.
“They should have let me design the armor. It would have looked better and been more practical, and then they wouldn’t have had to worry about me running off like I’m doing right now. No one ever accused Hydra of being intelligent, though. They were too greedy for results to stop and be logical about how to handle me. Now, they’re going to suffer for it.”
Make no mistake, though, he was extremely grateful Hydra hadn’t been more keen on keeping him chained. If they had, escaping might not have happened.
“You look dashing, by the way,” he added, reaching over to take Winter’s hand. “Blue suits you better than red and silver ever did.” Now wasn’t the time for flirting, but Winter had given him a few lovely compliments, Loki could at least return them.
Rather than fuss or worry over whether or not Winter could manage the jump–because Wildfire knew better than that and despite the obvious concern he always had for his partner, he kept his mouth shut–he allowed Winter to lead him to the edge of the building, nodding to the course of action. They would blend in, hide, slip away somewhere quiet where Loki could perform the teleportation spell without distractions of under extreme stress.
“I’m right behind you,” he assured him, squeezing his hand gently before letting go. Winter leaped down and Loki quickly followed, only hesitating long enough to judge where Winter would land so he could ensure that he didn’t fall on top of the other man. Winter could take a lot, but someone of Loki’s size and weight fall on top of him from such a great height wouldn’t do much to help them escape.
The moment they were both on the ground, recollecting themselves from the impact of the fall, Loki took Winter’s hand again, pulling the former asset close. To the crowd, they’d look like nothing more than a quiet couple trying to make their way through the streets and when the building collapsed and panic ensued, no one would pay them any mind.
“This way,” he murmured, directing his partner in their agreed course. “Stay close, all right? If we need to make a quick escape, I need you to be by my side.”
⚔️ - "I couldn’t appear so easy, could I?”
Despite the deadpan nature of his tone Winter is smiling, just a faint thing on his lips that grows as Wildfire almost bashfully inclines his head. Assessing eyes note the change, just the hint of a flush on cheeks, genuine in his reaction though Winter knows well enough that Wildfire can play even the most cynical if the other ex-asset chose. Yet, they’d never felt inclined to lie to him. Perhaps because it would only do more damage than good, or because Winter had always been inclined to take hard truths rather than pretty illusions.
It’s a shame to have shattered it with the knife but they had to be quick. Efficient. Though Wildfire does not scream the sharp inhale is just as guilt ridden for the other and Winter looks to him in quiet sympathy, knowing well enough how digging these from his skin feels.
It had been an order, long past, that should he feel he was going to be beaten Winter was to rid of any trace of Hydra from himself. Allow his arm to be shattered beyond use, cut the tracker from his throat. Self disposal to avoid replication, a last resort, but one they’d trained him for all the same.
What good is a unique asset if every side had one? He was to be there’s or no ones.
Well, he had been. Now Winter finds himself with no handler and his priorities laying on chance, a risky manoeuvre but he trusts his partners orders, his partners instinct. Loki always seemed to know who spoke wrongly and he always seemed to know just where they needed to be. Call it magic, tactic or talent he didn’t care. All Winter cared about was them both making it out of this alive.
Still the lingering question remained of just what they would do after. After they had run, after they had escaped. He was not trained for civilian living and despite it all Winter liked the fight. It kept him busy, kept him strong. What would he do without the war and without battle?
The sound of his partners voice pulls him from the thought, tilting his head as Winters gaze fell to the small stain of red across pale skin. Gone with a wave of a hand, just like that. Without Hydra’s command, their control, the soldier had to question just how far Wildfire’s magic could extend, develop and flourish.
It was going to be unlike anything they could hope to weaponise and whilst Winter may wonder on his tomorrow he was Russian. Today was all that mattered now and a day with Wildfire would never be uninteresting.
“I wouldn’t hurt you without good reason, and even then I would make it quick. навредить своему доверенному значит навредить себе.”
The compliment has him raising both eyebrows, frowning down at himself for a moment. He’d liked the reds and silvers, though now they’d be too recognisable. Too much of a link to who he was and who he had been.
The blue is nice, a change the same way he’d change in the choice to defect. Wildfire liking it brings a small sort of smugness to his chest, jutting up his chin and offering a wink before Winter gives them both a final look, no more chances to take another path.
There’s a moment of eye contact before Winter is moving again, no time now for sentimentality. It would have to come later, as it often must, because there and then their countdown had ended and just as his feet hit the floor. Tucked easily beneath him to roll from the impact, moving to stand and tug Wildfire from the eruption of flames - their life was gone.
It’s an odd thing to see change happen before your eyes. Even as his expression falls into one of horror and he links his fingers with the others, melting back quickly into a screaming, hectic crowd his gaze settles on burning pillars and crumbling rubble. An echo of sound in his ears as the blast settles into only human sounds.
He thinks he should feel some sort of fear, regret, sadness. Hydra had been his creation, his second chance. Winter doesn’t feel any of that, what he feels is strange. A quickening heart and tightening of fingers against the ones in his. Maybe it’s hopeful but he’d ponder on that later, stepping back in a way that may be mistaken for a stumble and turning sharply. Ducking his head to push through already flailing bodies, clearing a tight path towards the alleyway they needed.
“I am with you, let’s go.”
There are tears and there is chaos, there always is when something like this came so violently. Hydra was clean typically. Bloody, brutal, but clean. The likelihood of civilian injury is minimal without his intervention and Winter side steps emergency personnel, pressing himself and Wildfire to the wall. First responders couldn’t be trusted, none of them could. They would be looking for remains or a trail it was better to be gone.
Winter is silent as they move, not wanting for any surrounding technology to be searching for voices. Instead he keeps his goal on their corner, ducking amongst the survivors and the curious, finally catching sight of the darker quiet.
He motions back, pushes forward and steps around the corner of brick. Breathing slowly so that his heartbeat remains even, letting the look of panic collapse into something colder, calmer. Letting Wildfire move closer to the back for the space he’d need to work his magic with Winter as the shield between them. Old habits die hard.
Winter goes to speak for a second before the sound of footsteps has him mentioning for silence, drawing back further and watching as a small family hurries past. The mother clutching her child whilst the father calls for aid. He has a hand on the knife as his thigh as he waits for their voices to fade, the quiet sound of turning gears their only companion - it’s done simply enough, no threat yet.
Wildfire had been the cause of this. Of the crowds, the fire, everything he knew gone and dead. Laying in a burning street mere steps from them yet he can’t help but grin, manic maybe, shock from everything going on but there’s excitement as well. Relief to know they’d gotten their first success.
Now to survive the rest of the way, find a safe home, enough to get them stable as they began to search for information. Searching for themselves.
It’s something he never cared to do, really. Still, it would be better to know.
“We need a plan from here. I have no contacts that are not Hydra, unless you do we have to be cautious. We’ll need to scout for a place to lay down low for a few days. Somewhere away from here.”
