niaibook.cc 
“You can’t justify what you did to him!” Seven roars back, and oh god, this is all coming down to Tony again, but this isn’t just sex and marriage, this is oceans of torn up emotions, people left broken beyond repair.
“He started it,” Six-One-Eight spits. “He started the war. Not me-”
“Shut up,” the Director snaps over them, smile completely gone. “You’re wasting time and I’m not in the mood.” His eyes lock on Steve’s again, and he jerks his head towards the stairs. “Put the kid down and come with me.”
Steve debates it for a moment. He considers passing SJ over to someone else and standing his ground against the Director, because this is his fight and he didn’t become Captain America to back away from his own damn battles.
The Director makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat, obviously unused to being kept waiting. “I will prise him out of your hands if I have to.”
Steve stiffens at the threat, and the urge to put SJ down grows, because he wants nothing more than to go over and take the guy out, but then SJ’s breathes in sharply against his neck, obviously trying valiantly to not cry.
Steve abruptly changes his mind.
SJ has chosen to cling to him and that means he’s the one who’s got to protect him from whatever this is. Suddenly, he’s seeing the whole situation differently; the whole point of Captain America isn’t to fight battles, it’s to protect people. The battles are a secondary issue, they’re not the cause but the effect; the battles he fights are just a result of the main goal, to protect everyone he can. It doesn’t even matter that SJ is already dead and possibly not even real; the terror on his small face certainly looks and feels real enough to Steve, and as long as it does it matters.
He hitches SJ up again, not because he needs to but because he wants to prove a point. He sets his jaw and lifts his chin defiantly, looking the Director in the eye.
“Not a chance."
Distantly, there’s a bang and it sounds like a door being busted open. Six-One-Eight turns his head but the Director doesn’t so much as blink.
“You’re alive. I want to know how you did it,” the Director says bluntly, and folds his arms across his chest. “Come with me, and this can be easy. I don’t have to hurt you.”
“Go away,” SJ suddenly shouts, lifting his head from Steve’s shoulder, his voice trembling but loud. “Leave him alone!”
The Director raises an eyebrow, looking very much like he’d throw SJ off the room if he had the opportunity, and Steve feels a chill go down his spine. Beneath them they can hear banging and thudding, and Six-One-Eight takes a step forwards.
“It won’t hold them for long,” he says.
“No,” the Director says, and his eyes narrow marginally, calculating. “Probably not.”
In one swift movement, he unfolds his arms, unholsters a gun and shoots Shield in the shoulder. Shield lets out a strangled yell and hits the floor hard, and then the Director grabs Six-One-Eight and shoves him towards Seven. Without Shield to hold him back, Seven launches himself at Six-One-Eight, blind rage etched into his features.
“Steve, run!” Shield bellows, scrambling to his feet with a hand clamped to his shoulder. This time, Steve doesn’t have to even think; it’s three against two but he’s got SJ to think about, and he’ll die properly before he lets anything happen to him-
It all happens so fast; Seven and Six-One-Eight are fighting by the stairwell, seemingly determined to end the other at all costs, and the Director raises the gun to point it at Steve but before he can shoot Shield is there, lunging at the Director and shoving his wrist high. The gun goes off above their heads and SJ cries out, and Steve looks about for an exit as the Director is distracted-
There. A fire escape. He surges into motion, running across the roof and heading for the wrought iron bars he can see. “Hold on tight,” he says to SJ, keeping on hand on his head and the other tucked under his legs. “Don’t look.”
There’s a crash and a cry, and then a hand grabs the back of Steve’s uniform and yanks him viciously backwards. SJ screams and Steve swings around on instinct, letting go of SJ’s head to punch his assailant straight in the mouth. The Director staggers back, the gun flying from his hand, and Steve has a wild moment of satisfaction because the bastard hadn’t been expecting that, now had he? Steve kicks the gun away, sending it skittering across the rooftop out of the Director’s reach.
The Director straightens up, spitting out blood, eyes glittering with fury.
“Why should you live when the rest of us don’t?” he snarls, and he swings at Steve, catching him with a vicious uppercut. Steve staggers back, and SJ is screaming and he’s falling; he hits the concrete on his back, barely throwing out a hand in time to break his fall, and SJ’s head smacks painfully against his jaw.
“This is exactly your problem,” the Director says, standing over them. “You’re so concerned with protecting that you forget we were built to fight.”
Steve struggles to his knees, body screaming out in pain. He looks up to see the Director right in front of him, and then Shield sprinting away from Seven and Six-One-Eight, signalling with his hand as he comes towards them. The navy of his uniform looks black where it’s covered in blood, and his face is pale but the expression on it is determined and also pushing scared, eyes locked on SJ-
Steve’s heart is pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him. “Trust me?” he asks SJ, voice low, not taking his eyes from the Director
“Yes,” SJ replies, and Steve doesn’t hesitate. He stands up swiftly and pulls SJ away from him, grabbing him under his arms and hefting him through the air, over the head of the Director. SJ lets out a strangled yell but Shield is there perfectly in time, reaching out and grabbing SJ roughly out of the air, grunting in pain, presumably because of the bullet wound. He turns with the momentum of the catch, spinning on his heel and running towards the stairwell, SJ clinging to his side.
“Nicely done,” the Director concedes, right before he steps forwards and kicks Steve in the stomach. Steve staggers back and hears SJ screaming in the background. There’s the bang of a door and SJ’s voice is muffled and echoing as Shield carries him down the stairwell, and Seven and Six-One-Eight are still fighting-
The Director kicks out at Steve again and Steve grabs his ankle and twists, but the Director knows the move and turns with it, dropping down and rolling over on his shoulder, moving into a crouch and swiping his leg around, kicking the back of Steve’s legs hard and sending him crashing to the floor. Steve rolls back as the Director lunges at him, bringing a knee up to catch him in the chest and then shoving him sideways onto his back.
The Director twists around and his hand goes for the remaining gun strapped in at his side; Steve lashes out and punches him hard enough to send him staggering back. He lunges after him to grab the gun, yanking it free from the holster. He tightens his hold on it but instantly realises it’s been modified to withstand the Director’s grip and the case doesn’t so much as bend, so he opts for hurling it well out of reach off the edge of the roof.
“Don’t need a gun to take you out,” the Director pants.
Steve cocks his head, bracing himself and raising his fists. “Yeah, I can see you’re doing swell so far. I’m clearly nearly beat.”
Face twisting in fury, the Director swings at him again. Steve dodges the first hit but not the second; another dizzying uppercut to the jaw that leaves him reeling for a moment, the memory of the robot doing exactly the same just before he was stabbed searing into the forefront of his mind. He swings for another punch but the Director grabs his wrist and hauls him over, flipping him onto his back so their positions are reversed, and Steve wishes violently for his shield-
There’s a distant crash and Steve manages to look up just in time to see Stephanie and the Commander burst onto the roof. The Commander grabs Six-One-Eight and helps Seven tackle him to the ground, and Stephanie bolts over to Steve and before the Director can even look up, she jumps over and kicks him hard in the side, sending him sprawling across the gravel. Panting, Steve gets to his feet and joins the fray; it’s nasty and messy and Steve feels like he’s in a goddamn bar brawl, but between him and Stephanie they wrestle the Director to the ground. Steve has his arms around the Directors neck and Stephanie has his wrists twisted up behind his back, and then Violet is there and holding his shoulders down. Breathing harshly, Steve looks up to see Dresden and Seven hustling Six-One-Eight through the doorway, hands now bound behind his back.
The Commander walks over very deliberately, a gun in his bare hand. He cocks it and points it straight between the Director’s eyes, so close that the barrel is almost brushing his skin.
“Won’t do any good,” the Director pants.
“It’ll make us feel better,” the Commander growls. “And it’ll hurt. A lot. Take you a few weeks to bounce back again.”
“If he cooperates-” the Director begins.
“Nuh-uh,” the Commander says. “Not going to happen. Now, are you going to leave, or do I get to shoot you?”
The Director sends him a dirty look. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would,” the Commander replies evenly. “I’m not like you, I don’t shoot people for the hell of it. But I do shoot people when they deserve it.”
“Save it,” the Director replies. “Don’t you ever get bored of working out who deserves what?”
“No,” the Commander replies, and then he swiftly raises his arm and backhands the Director with the butt of the gun, hitting him on the temple and knocking him out cold.
“Steph, Violet,” he says. “Take him back where he came from.”
They both nod and Steve lets go of the Director, allowing Stephanie and Violet to haul him away. He breathes out, watching him go, shaking from head to toe and not able to do anything about it. It’s half adrenaline, he knows, and half shock. He watches the limp body being dragged across the gravel, unable to process that in another life, he could have turned out like that, he could have been as cruel and calculating, putting strategy and the mission above the lives and the safety of the people around him.
The Commander is issuing directions, walking away towards the stairwell after the others, but Steve isn’t listening. He wants to get out of here, he wants to go home-
“Steve!”
Steve looks around in time to see SJ appear at the top of the stairwell, darting under the Commanders arm and barrelling across the floor towards him, flinging himself at Steve the moment he’s close enough. Dizzy with relief, Steve grabs him and holds him tight, one arm around his waist and the other on the back of his head.
“Shush, I’m alright,” he says, and he can feel SJ’s shoulders jerking as he gulps in air and tries not to cry.
“He knew he could hurt you, and he still did it,” SJ manages to say, voice trembling and hitching. His skinny arms cling around Steve’s neck like he never wants to let go, and Steve wishes with all his heart that he could do something, could send SJ back to his universe alive and whole.
