⚔ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
socketeer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2016-10-20 03:45 pm
socketeer) wrote in bakerstreet2016-10-20 03:45 pm( picture prompt meme )
 the picture prompt meme I — Comment with your character.
| |||||
socketeer) wrote in bakerstreet2016-10-20 03:45 pm
the picture prompt meme I — Comment with your character.
| |||||
no subject
He takes half a second to make sure it's Cap on the car and that he's breathing, then grabs the gun beside him. Frank twists in his seat to see his pursuers slowing down, but not stopping. He levels the barrel against the back of the seat and fires, shattering the rear window. It falls away like shredded paper, and more of the night's heat creeps into the car. The windshield of the first car cracks but doesn't break, too far away for full impact. The spidering of the glass obscures the driver's vision, however, and they slam into the side of the cliff.
Gunpowder residue and scorched fuel fill up his nostrils and burn Frank's eyes, but he doesn't take them off the remaining car. It grinds to a halt near the wreck of its companion, but he can see the men inside scrambling for firearms. Through the ringing in his ears, he hears angry shouting in Spanish coming from above, which prompts them to drop what they're doing while the driver revs the engine to life again.]
Fuck.
[Frank curses again through gritted teeth-- the way he stopped the car left it precariously close to the safety railing overlooking the ten foot drop into the ocean. He doesn't need to be bilingual to figure out what's going through their heads. Any other day, he'd just start firing again, but his attention is halved between their movement and that of Steve on the hood. Frank's mind spins like a rolodex full of possible scenarios. If they fell off the cliff like this, if they survived, he could escape through the back window. Steve, on the other hand, would be pinned under the windshield, and the car would sink too quickly for Frank to be able to save him. That isn't an option. Unfortunately, Steve isn't in much of a position to get that far at the moment, so Frank takes the most viable course of action in his reservoir: He pops the hood and sends Steve flying over the railing.
The decision comes just in time for him to gun the engine and move about twenty feet before the Colombians slam into him. His skeleton shakes inside his skin on impact, and the airbag deploys as the grill of the car smashes the safety railing and sends the car plummeting into the water. Frank hears his nose break against the airbag, but adrenaline dampens the pain. He braces to hit the water, which rocks him almost as hard as the car, but at least he knows Steve isn't anywhere near it.
Frank tries to move as soon as the car starts to sink, but his body doesn't respond. All the endorphins in the world can't make his muscles ignore the beating they just took. They scream for two minutes of rest, two minutes he doesn't fucking have. Already water has risen up to his ankles and bullets whiz through the water and pock the roof over his head.]
no subject
He's sure there's something in between, but he was struggling to just remain conscious, so it's all a bit of a blur. Days like this he really, really misses his shield; his shoulder and ribs aren't likely to forgive him any time soon for this. On the upside, jarring as the chill of water might be, the shock of it snaps him awake and alert with a spike of adrenaline that floods his system. It's enough to send him to the surface — just in time for Frank's car to crash down not twenty feet away. The crushed and battered hunk of metal begins to sink as soon as it hits the water, the gaping hole where the rear window used to be allowing a rush of it into the cabin.
Pain is pushed down and aside as Steve takes off like a rocket through the water; the roof of the car slips beneath the surface as he reaches it, leaving him a more focal target for gunfire from above. A bullet grazes his arm as he dives under, catching hold of the roof to keep close to the sinking vehicle as he shatters the driver side window with one strike of his elbow. They're deep enough now that the bullets that hit the water lose momentum, drifting uselessly past them as he gets hold of the back of Frank's shirt and drags him out through the window. They can't surface here; it needs to look like they were dragged under. Though his lungs are on fire, he pushes off the sinking car to get them as far from the crash site as possible while moving towards the rocks of the cliff side, praying it's enough to keep them hidden.
What feels like a small eternity later, Steve gets hold of the rocky face with one hand to drag the both of them up through the surface, coughing and gasping as he scrabbles to maintain his hold in the crashing waves. His other arm remains locked tight around Frank's chest, clutching him close against his side as he sputters and chokes. His grip tightens, shaking the man as much as he can manage with such a precarious hold. ]
Frank! Still with me?!
no subject
His vision blurs, but he fights to stay conscious and swallows air as he's pulled out. Things get spotty from there-- the sight of the car's headlights drifting farther below fades in and out until the darkness of the water becomes indistinguishable from the backs of his eyelids. He hears a familiar voice call out to him, soft but urgent. He can't reach out, he can't see who it is, but he knows it, and he's not ready yet. It's not over. The voice changes, still familiar, and a wave slaps him across the face.
Frank coughs and bolts awake while waves continue to batter him dangerously close to the rocks. Cap pulled through in the clutch. Frank grabs a nearby rock jutting out of the water and gets his own foothold so Steve can let go of him. Beams from flashlights skate over the water where the car went down, and it won't be long before they expand their search.]
Beach-- [Frank barks over the roar of the ocean.] Five hundred feet north. Regroup there.