#I blame the future in laws for the anniversary silver ring idea...

[aki-draws-things]

A first version snippet of a short fic for the bingo card. (the one half inspired by your art @grelots-chan)

~~~°°°~~~

Brock exhaled, the sound coming out weak, wet, he felt something drip from his lips but he couldn't move. He tried.

He tried to step away, he tried to run as the building collapsed, as the floor beneath his feet tilted and he slipped on his back. He tried to get a grip on something, anything, hell, he would have accepted to grasp the ankle of the man he was fighting a moment before if that meant he wouldn't fall to his death.

Instead he fell. He blacked out for a moment, his head hitting the floor or the wall or whatever it was, and he fell. Brock rumlow knew pain but this was more than he could take, the world around him exploded. He was-- no way he would survive that.

"jack... Rollins come--"

He mumbled as he rolled away from a part of roof or floor falling on top of him, his chest hurt at the movement and he laid on his back.

"bit busy over here Brock! "

Oh, good. Still alive, still fighting. Brock smiled, eyes fluttering close for a moment.

"No wonder... - he breathed out, blood trickling from his lips. He had to move, to turn himself before chocking on it, he knew it. His body refused to move. - get away while still on feet Jackie."

He heard something from the comms, a curse or something, somehow Brock smiled again.

"I mean it jack..."

Something cracked above, as Brock lift his eyes to check how long he had to move the floor beneath him opened and he didn't hear Jack's voice screaming his name over the comms. Truth be told he hardly hear anything for some minutes when his body finished falling. He hardly felt anything too, until he regained consciousness and found himself trapped.

Pain exploded then. His whole body was hurting and nothing he could think of doing would help. He felt blood sticking to his clothes, coming from his lips when he coughed weakly, bubbling in his throat and threatening to choke him. He had no way out, not when half the building was now resting on him, pinning him, trapping him so tightly that he couldn't move a finger. Or perhaps his fingers were broken, like his legs, ribs, possibly his spine.

Brock never thought about dying, not really. He knew it was a risk every time he went on a mission, no matter how good strike team was, no matter jack was there to watch his back. No matter sometimes Steve Rogers was there too and they weren't really needed. No matter other times the asset was there, depending on who gave them the mission. He could have died every single of those times and he didn't spare a thought about it. He never expected to live that long anyway.

But there he was, pinned, trapped, broken, dying, and his thoughts, floated sluggishly to Jack. Oh, that he knew would happen, he even said it aloud once.

"if I were to die now, my last thought would be you." and he meant it, even as Jack frowned and slapped his arm and passed a cold cloth over his brows. Fever always made Brock delirious. And sentimental.

Now he was dying for sure, he felt it in each breath he took, in every exhale, he was dying and his last coherent thought was for Jack and how he should've proposed to renew those vows properly that time, maybe with their little trusted alpha team there. With rings and celebrations and everything.

He wanted to see that small silver band on Jack's finger, the proof they were still together after all the years, after everything.

But Brock was dying, and his last thought was for his husband.

#Hydra husbands #Brock rumlow #Jack rollins #Angst #Snippet #I blame the future in laws for the anniversary silver ring idea... #Aki writes