The Memories of Night | 18+

𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲

𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"Files for Astrid King, now."

When Astrid left the simulation room, I immediately delegated training for the rest of the day to Nat, who raised an eyebrow but didn't question anything and left the Triskeleton, walking two blocks to the FBI headquarters for D.C. I needed to know her history, I've seen agents watch people die, their teammates, and they cried but continued. Astrid shattered, she completely and utterly shattered. She barely came back to us, we sat in there for three minutes trying to pull her from the simulation before Bruce decided to do the risky thing and rip the pads off her forehead, and force her to wake up from it.

Her scream, that scream will haunt me for weeks to come. It was a scream of someone who wanted to mourn but was never allowed to. If the glass in the room wasn't unshatterable, I know there would be shards everywhere, she was breaking, and I wasn't helping her, I was pushing her. I didn't want her to think I was punishing her, but the fear in her eyes when she came to, when she asked to leave, made my breath catch. Astrid was strong, it didn't take a genius to realize that. But I was coming to believe her strength was a barrier to hide how badly, how deeply she hurt.

My eyes caught on two people behind the desk, the glass the only thing separating me from hearing their conversation, Brock Rumlow and a man I could only assume was Astrid's father by his looks. Did she know he was in town?

"Yes of course sir," the woman behind the desk spoke, causing my attention to fall on her. "I'll be right back with them."

I leaned against the reception desk as I waited, listening to the chatter amongst agents as they walked through the lobby, and ran my hand down my face. I've never seen someone react like Astrid did to the simulation. We've all been through something, I lost my best friend, but I didn't get to mourn, I know what grief and heartache felt like. She got to hold her partner's hand as he died, but if there was no proper outlet to relieve those bottled-up emotions, the numbness took over and all that was known was survival. There's no purpose for life, not if grief holds you in its grip. The glass doors opened and I closed my eyes hearing Brock's voice flow into the room. I'm not a mean man, I have my moments, but I was not in the mood to listen to Brock Rumlow today of all days. It was already torturous enough having to watch him roll around on the training mat with her, I didn't need to deal with him after pulling Astrid back to reality.

The same light brown hair of Astrid King appeared before me and I blinked slowly, taking in the man. "Mister Rogers," He grinned, sticking his hand out for me, and I placed my palm against his hand, shaking his hand and watching as he grimaced when I gripped his hand just a little tighter than necessary. But to his credit, he plastered on a smile again, "I'm Gilbert King, Agent Gilbert King," He spoke as if that was supposed to impress me, "Astrid King's father, I hope she's not causing too many problems."

"Ah," I laughed dryly, pulling my hand away, "No, she's a great agent so far, I'm impressed with her."

Gilbert seemed to beam, and pride showed in his eyes at the mention of his daughter excelling. "Brock here has known her for years, and he's saying she's adjusting well, he said he's been training her."

"Right," I took the file when the receptionist came back to the desk, tucking it under my arm, "About that Brock, I've concluded that you're skillset is needed back with the Delta team, and as much as I've appreciated the help you are no longer needed to train Astrid, I'll be taking over."

"But-"

"That is an order Rumlow," He swallowed before nodding, looking down at his feet.

Gilbert King went ashen when he saw the file in my hand, the name clearly typed on the side of the folder. "It was great to meet you Gilbert," I nodded, stepping around him, "But if you excuse me, I have a lot of reading to do."