hermajestysfury | 420: Return

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420: Return

Nothing moves until Sir Nicholas' shoulder is firmly under the heavy weight of the man known as Rojhaz, as Steve Rogers, as Captain America.

Then lots of things happen. The scientists shout, one of them raises a gun, and Sir Nicholas - encumbered by the body of a man much larger than even his broad-shouldered and muscled frame - never the less springs into action. It's a blur, really, as he kicks the man with the gun into the other man before dumping Rojhaz on the gurney, then quickly, efficiently, kicks each of the staggering scientists in the jaw as they attempt to get up.

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"Rojhaz."
"Steve Rogers." The two men speak in unison, look at each other, and shrug.

Sir Nicholas follows the shrug up with a wince, and starts slowly removing his armor, "I have been harmed worse, I do swear."

The fact that both of them knew who she was talking about tells her she pegged it in one. Never mind that there was only one person in the room besides her and Fury. It still worked.

"And I do swear if you don't get on with it I'll..." There's a brief, blank pause as she remembers just what Fury has done recently and her mind shudders away from that track altogether.
"I don't care."

"I am getting on, I am getting on." Sir Nicholas protests, peeling the armor off. His doublet is a complete mess and he will need a new one. And there is a small, round hole from which the blood is pouring. "I will not take offense, madam. And I will not harm you. My word."

He might need to repeat that later. She didn't quite register it, because she's too busy staring in shock at what the bullet has done to him.

She doesn't even know what a gun is, or a bullet for that matter, or why they make little round holes, or why he's bleeding so much from a little round hole, or...

Or why she doesn't feel that good as she stands rooted to the spot, her dark eyes wide and staring, hands (one a little bloody already) over her mouth. She'd be deeply mortified if she knew she was falling into the 'tragic weakling female heroine lead' role, if, you know, she could focus on something other than the damage done to Fury.

...

Here's hoping she doesn't get as far as extrapolating what a 'gun' or a 'bullet' might have done to her, if Fury hadn't been there. No one needs that screaming again.

"You don't want to watch this, ma'am." Rojhaz says, turning her away from the sight of the bleeding Fury.

Who hands over a small, thin knife which had been strapped to the inside of his arm before removing one of his leather gloves and biting into it hard.

He grunts while Rojhaz digs the bullet out, but that's all.

(Any universe that has a Nick Fury knows that he's far too badass to scream.)

She stays turned. She thinks she should stick it out, be stubborn and watch because he got hurt protecting her, but...

She stays turned. She's not at all sure she could bear watching. She is, in fact, pretty sure she couldn't.

So she just stands there, arms folded tight over her chest in a strange, protective sort of hug, waiting for it all to be over.

"The doublet's done for, Fury."
"I know. Use it for bandaging." comes from behind her, eventually, followed by, "It is over, child."

Sir Nicholas would like to think that he's too old for this shit. He'd like to think that it would make him tired to be doing this all over again.

He hasn't felt this alive since the queen was killed.

Slowly she turns around, quiet and subdued. Distantly she notes he didn't scream. She screamed, and nothing actually happened to her. He had... has? Still has? A hole in him, and he's just sitting there, looking a little goofy with purple shreds of cloth wrapped around his shoulder.

Shamefaced, she ducks her head. If he would think less of her for not going out in the mud...
"Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize." Sir Nicholas says quietly, "I have done this all of my life. You have never seen anything like before."

"Even if you were trained for it, ma'am, the first time out is always horrible. I get the feeling that you haven't had any training at all." Rojhaz agrees, "We're a couple of old soldiers, this is what we do."

After a moment she nods her understanding (that's one thing she's got down pat on this trip, she can nod like a pro). Since they don't have any complaints, she doesn't have much to berate herself for (other than, you know, coming through the door - she's still thinking that might have been a mistake, right there).

"Emphasis on the old." She offers tentatively, looking at Fury.

"Very old." Sir Nicholas agrees, "And getting older every day. Some day I hope that you will forgive me."

"..." That earns a blank stare while she tries to puzzle out what he's driving at. When she fails to come up with a reasonable answer (for tackling her? Um, that makes no sense), she informs him of as much.

"For...?"

"Bringing you here." Sir Nicholas states, "I should not have brought you into a place where violence was a guarantee, and I hope that one day you will forgive me it."

"Well... yeah..." When he has a point, he has a point. She could have happily (or, at least, non-screamingly) lived out the rest of her days without the last few... however long it's been. She can't tell.

"Though." She adds, scuffing the toe of her boot along the ground, knocking off some fine-ground glass. "Hard to be quite as afraid of the Gagas, I'd imagine. They don't have alarms, or guns, or bullets, or... things." She suggests, with little flaily hand-motions that are pure her.

"...Where did you bring her from, Fury?" Rojhaz asks, with a look that says he's only holding off their fight for the sake of the girl.

"A place between worlds. I was caught there for weeks, and it took no time at all. Will you sit, madam? It will help with the shock."

She sits, obediently. It's amazing how well-behaved she can be with a bit of a shock to the system. She isn't too sure about Sir Boyzone over there, but so far everything seems fine.

...

She really has no idea what she's supposed to do with herself now.

Rojhaz digs in a cupboard for a couple of moments, then comes out with alternate clothing. It's too big for either the girl or the knight, but what the hell.

"You can't wear that around, Fury. This will do for the time being."

Sir Nicholas...doesn't want to lose his armor. He likes his armor. It has saved his life more than once. However, even a trip through town over Rojhaz' shoulder showed that he sticks out badly here.

She blinks stupidly at the size of the duds Sir Boyzone produces, wondering just how large people are around here and can they not meet any really large people? Especially not any really large, angry people? That'd be great, thanks.

It will be weird seeing Fury in something other than purple armor. She looks over, and he doesn't look too happy about a lack of purple armor either.

Or maybe that's just him being him. Definitely a possibility.

"Don't you have something... more cloak, less tent?" She asks, thinking that a cloak could cover armor (and be swishy, which would go with the pimp hat).

"I'm afraid not, ma'am." Rojhaz says, "Fury's clothing is hundreds of years out of date...and he already sticks out like a sore thumb." The man who was, and will be, Captain America is not a stupid man. He's not even trying to talk Sir Nicholas into shaving.

"I will wear it." Sir Nicholas says with a distinct lack of grace, "Madam, when the chance comes to return you to Milliways, would you be so kind as to store my armor in my room for me?"

If Fury had argued against the removal of purple armor, she would have whole-heartedly given her not-terribly-consequential weight to his side of the argument, ranting (probably incomprehensibly, to the two men involved) about Gagas and Boyzone clones and making your own fashion statement... but alone, she doesn't have much ground to stand on. His request, on the other hand, tells her a number of important things. One, he plans on getting her home. This is something she deeply approves of. The sooner, the better. Two, he isn't going to go back with her. Three, he must plan on coming back eventually, but how long that eventually will be, he isn't saying.

Item number two is terribly depressing. She's gotten used to having someone to talk to (or rant at, as the case may be). She decides to focus on item the first. Frankly, today doesn't need anything besides cheery things.

"Yeah, I can do that." She agrees, nodding. She's gotten good at nodding.

"This is what I do." he says quietly, "This is what I have always done."

Rojhaz says, "This is what all of him does, I think. It was a dark day when this time's Nick Fury died."

Sir Nicholas stands, offers her a small bow, and finds another room to change in.

...

This is going to take a while. Zippers are new and bewildering.

So much for more cheery things, she notes with some disgust, as she's left with Sir Boyzone to contemplate Fury being dead.

Maybe it's not this fury with the purple armor or the pimp hat or the way he persists in calling her 'madam', but.

A Fury. And if they (the anomalous 'they', because she still doesn't know why the world erupted in violence as soon as they went through the door) (though hanging around with Nick Fury might have had a lot to do with it) can kill one Fury... odds are favorable that they can kill two.

She settles for giving Sir Boyzone her best 'may all your dangly parts rot off and you can go die in a fire' glare (her glares are eloquent) before pulling her knees up to her chest and waiting for Fury to come back.

There's still glass shards on her boots. Idly she works on brushing them off without getting them stuck in her fingers.

"Even this world was different then." Rojhaz says. He's been glared at by worse, "There was a man who was...I don't know if you know the word mutant?"

(Elsewhere, Sir Nicholas is contemplating using a knife to make lace holes for the strange trousers.)

Humph. Even her glares don't work here. This doesn't improve her mood at all.

"Freak, you mean?" She isn't trying to be mean, but with the wide-spread use of genetic control and plastic surgery, there aren't mutants in the general population. At least, not ones with any major physical changes.

"Not exactly." Rojhaz explains, "There used to be people who could do things nobody else could...Sir Nicholas would call them witchbreed, we called them mutants. One of them went insane and decided to destroy the world. The other mutants only fed it...so the heroes who were not mutants sacrificed themselves to weaken it enough that it could be killed.

"Nick was in the first wave. Everyone died, ma'am. Someone, this kid named Richards, brought us back...but there were so many casualties that it just got dark. Not fast. The dark times came slowly, but they came. The other heroes aged and died, or they left for... other places...Most of the rest were hunted down and killed.

"Nick...my Nick...had been taking an injection that kept him from aging. Someone tampered with it."

420: Return

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