MSF character of the day: Nico Minoru! She was the first character I ever did for Marvel Strike Force. This was a Pride Month variant costume. Nico is one of the only female LGTBQ Japanese-American super team leaders (if not the only one).
Nico concept art for Marvel Strike Force by Kate Laird
Warning ⚠️; Minor Character Death, injuries, blood, fluff. Bad German
Pairing; Steve Roger/Male!Commander!Reader
Summary; Even tho S.T.R.I.K.E faced heroes and villains from many dimensions, you were still able to recognize yours. It didn't mean you didn't hurt seeing them dying.
Note; I’ve been playing STRIKE FORCE and it hit me that we are killing the other versions while kicking Steve’s ass. Made me sad so I wrote this.
Credit: @cafekitsune
The little town was a battlefield with nothing left standing or so. You walked through the destruction, gun in hand, searching for survivors. You felt sick thinking about what you had to do, but you were going to do it; there were no other choices. Those heroes and villains from other dimensions were beyond saving; Ultimus had not only broken their minds but also their souls transforming them into his puppets.
Ultimus who didn't care about a single one of them; they were meats for the grinder. No. But you did. You had memorized how many of each you had killed, trying to keep them alive in your mind. It was a burden. But if you didn't, who would do it? They had no one to grieve them but you, The Commander tasked with killing them.
You stopped by a body, bile teasing your lips as your eyes fell on Bucky’s lifeless eyes. Not yours, thank God; he wasn't even present for this battle so it was easy to know. You still kneeled by his side and took his vitals; his body was clay-cold and rigor mortis was already settling in. You sighed and closed his eyes at the same time as yours. Hopefully Steve wouldn't see him; that Bucky looked almost identical to his best friend.
You heard shouting somewhere to your right and you left the body alone; you were going to point his position later for disposal. Right now you wanted to know what was going on.
After walking around a fallen building you saw Steve, injured and bloody, stumbling toward Fury. Naturally, the man caught the soldier and helped him down, shouting for help. You smiled sadly, shaking your head; how did Fury become so blind? Anyway, you weren't — couldn't — let the superchery go any longer;
- “Don’t bother, Fury. It’s not our Steve; ours doesn't have that shade of blue — it’s darker, remember? — and the shield is missing a bump,” you pointed out as you kneeled behind the other Steve.
Fury all but pushed the injured soldier away from him and you caught him in your arms. He was far too injured to represent a threat; the man was dying and you doubted he had wanted to use his last breath to kill. You offered the copy of your boyfriend a smile and cradled him against your chest as he spit blood over your neck.
He didn't have long to live.
- “It’s okay soldier, you can rest now. The battle is over and you did your best,” you told the other Steve, trying to give him comfort. “Your Bucky is waiting for you.”
- “B-Bucky…” The dying man choked and raised his hand, causing Fury to point his gun toward him; you stopped Fury by simply raising your hand. “I—”
- “I know,” You replied, holding his head as you heard Kurt popping behind you.
- “Mein Freund! Maybe you shouldn't be so carefree with them,” Kurt whispered, his arms circling your shoulders and he looked over them to the dying Steve.
You simply looked at Kurt and the blue mutant had the decency to not repeat himself. He knew how you had a soft spot for all of them, how you just couldn't stand there and let them die alone. It wasn't the first — or last time — you would hold one of them as they took their last breath.
Kurt let go of you and kneeled next to the fake Steve. You watched as your friend took his hand and prayed for him; the blond man kept looking at you all that time, his blood soaking your uniform. You took his other hand and squeezed it as you saw life slowly leave his blue eyes and it wasn't long before he became as limp as a ragdoll in your arms. Kurt closed his eyes and you put him down before passing your hand through his hair.
That was the thirtieth Steve Rogers you watched die since Ultimus had begun his invasion.
You heard your Steve before you felt his hands on your shoulders; you had learned to recognize them so quickly. He had a certain way of walking and you wondered if it was intentional. You looked up as Steve kneeled behind you and squeezed your shoulders. His eyes filled with emotions you couldn't identify as he stared at the body of his doppelganger.
- “I am still not used to it,” Steve admitted in a whisper as you were left alone.
Fury was barking orders, asking for the collection of the corpses and Kurt was back at bothering Logan; you could see them in the corner of your eyes.
- “Me neither. Each time I feel like it’s you I am losing, even if I know they are not you. It’s so easy to recognize them, I don’t know how others don't see the differences,” You replied with a sigh, closing your eyes and nuzzling your face in the crook of Steve’s neck.
He was injured, bloody, but far less seriously than his copy. It probably wasn't his blood anyway.
- “That's why you are our Commander; it comes so easily to you recognizing our own. Even Fury has a hard time… even me,” Steve admitted as he rested his chin on top of your head.
- “Funny how I never once saw a single of my copy,” You pointed out only for Steve to pull you closer against his chest.
- “Maybe there is only one you,” He said and you laughed.
With tears in your tired eyes, you let Steve force you back on your feet. You looked around you, taking in the destruction and carnage; thank God you had been able to evacuate the place before the portal had opened. The battlefield was a bloody mess. How none of you had died was a mystery you didn't want to focus on; you didn't have the luxury to lose a single battle after all. It didn't mean your guys weren't injured, but they would heal and be ready for the next battle.
Steve led you away and you soon realized he made sure to avoid any dead bodies left uncollected. You smiled — it didn't reach your eyes — and hooked your arm to his, thanking Steve silently. He too hated their sight, after all; it reminded him of the war. You knew because of all the nightmares he had, even at your side. You both had them.
Funny how it was those same nightmares which had made you grow closer.
You could remember those cold nights walking through empty corridors, trying to chase away their ghosts from your mind only to encounter Steve with the same haunted gaze as yours. Sharing coffee and pastries you often joined in the training room, beating down punching bag after punching bag and sometimes cracking in each other's arms. The first time you saw Steve crying was after a bunch of Bucky Barnes had passed through a portal and you had to kill them; Steve kept begging for forgiveness, crying until he had thrown up. You kept him in your arms until he almost passed out, sharing his pain.
You snapped out your memories as Steve pulled you inside a tent; the scent of disinfectant hit you and you tried to leave the tent, but Steve tightened his grip on your arm. You stared at each other, knowing damn well you weren't getting out.
- “We’re alone and you are hurt, let me take care of you,” Steve said, almost pleading.
- “Not my blood and you need it more than I do,” You replied and hissed as Steve rested his hand above your hip; a bullet had scratched you there, inches away from your guts. “Okay, you win.”
You saw Steve smile, a real smile, as he helped you take off your clothes. You sat on a medical bed only in your underwear, cursing under your breath as Steve cleaned the scratches and the bullet wound. Really, you wanted to bolt outside even if it meant ridiculing yourself; you hated being patched up. Cleaning and taking care of others? Any day! Especially Steve, but yourself? No, thank you!
- “You really are the worst patient ever. How Hank hasn't strapped you to a bed yet is a mystery to me,” Steve chuckled as you flinched away while he tried to stitch you up.
- “He tried, once; I bit him and didn't let go until Jean made me,” You admitted and Steve laughed louder.
This time your smile reached your eyes.
Steve cupped your face in his hands — the scent of disinfectant and blood turned your stomach upside down — and leaned down until your foreheads touched. You closed your eyes, fingers gripping his shredded suit; you felt his way-too-warm skin on your fingers and the blood that soaked it. You pulled on his suit and Steve stepped closer as you slowly dealt with said suit.
It didn't take long for you to undress him and your hands found his waist almost immediately while your eyes took in the bruises and cuts all over his body; you were in a way better shape than him. You didn't have to talk and Steve sat by your side while you took the first aid kit from him.
It felt like an eternity cleaning and patching him up; Steve wasn't careful enough you thought, but you also knew where he came from. There was no changing Steve Rogers neither did you want him to.
You kissed his bandaged shoulder after tying a knot and making sure it wouldn't come loose. Steve passed his fingers on your nape, sending shivers down your spine and you chuckled; he played prude but you knew better. You both froze hearing the sound of footsteps on the gravel and turned your gazes to see Fury peeking inside the tent. He stayed still, eying the both of you before rolling his eye.
- “Dress up you two, we are going home. There’s been another alert; you’ll get all the time to play doctor later,” Fury groaned before leaving.
Steve turned as red as a tomato before grabbing his suit. You on the other hand laughed so hard that your ribs hurt and you lay down on the bed. Steve slapped your side, mumbling something about hurrying and you chuckled. Still, you listened and dressed once more.
You tried to ignore the feeling of the blood sticking back on your skin. Tried to not think about who it belonged to and headed toward the helicopter. Fury stood in front of the opened door, waiting for you and Steve. You wanted to leave your boyfriend behind, order him to rest and heal, but you didn't; Steve wouldn't listen anyway. Captain America wouldn't rest until you did until all threat was gone.
Steve helped you get inside and immediately jumped in next. He sat by your side and pressed yourself against his side; seeking his warmth and comfort.
Fury ignored you, like always and you closed your eyes as he began speaking about the portal. You didn't listen, opting to take a nap instead; Steve would explain it quicker anyway. You smiled as you fell asleep and felt Steve’s arm around your shoulders.
Your Steve, the one you could recognize even surrounded by thousands of his doppelgangers. After all, that one was yours and only yours.
