Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s hot—that had been Sova’s first thought when they landed. The sun beats down on him through the dry air, making him uncomfortable as he stalks through the dusty streets of Rabat. The sand crunches under his boots, dust swirling in the slight breeze. He can almost feel it coating his teeth.

“How do you live like this, Cypher?” He’d asked, loading and preparing his pistol. “It’s so dry.”

“You’re one to talk,” Cypher responded, closing the door of the transport. He slid a knife into his sleeve. “I’ve never had a trip to Russia without risking frostbite. How do you live like that?”

Sova chuckled, slipping his pistol into its holster. “Point taken.”

It was at that moment when a third agent slammed the door of the transport and jogged around to meet them. Sova and Cypher looked up toward the sound.

“Ready, team?” Skye asked. When both Cypher and Sova nodded, she grinned. “Good! Remember: we’re just here for recon. In and out in time for dinner!”

Sova prepares his drone for launch, lifting his arm and configuring some settings. The small machine seems to hum in anticipation, prepared for flight. All he needs is a place to stand when he uses it. He looks around, analyzing the narrow stone paths and dusty walls for cover. There isn’t much, but—

There. A small corner, hidden from the site he's been assigned to recon. The only ways to reach it are the place he’s just come from, the paths Cypher and Skye are watching, and the area he will send his drone toward. Perfect.

Sova makes his way to the corner, holding his pistol up in case of a surprise around the corner. Nothing. Sighing slightly at the relief and letting some (but not all, never all) of the tension drain from his shoulders, Sova shuffles into the corner and holds up his left arm. The drone hums back to life at the action, a soft blue light emanating from the owl’s eyes. He closes his own for a second, taking a moment to ensure he is balanced and prepared, before jerking his arm upward just enough to launch the drone into the air.

The switch is near instantaneous, Sova’s perception of the world going from standing in a corner to hovering 6 feet above the ground smoothly. He urges the drone forward, slowly flying around the corner and up the slope, scanning around each wall carefully. There is nobody—not hidden around the boxes stacked in front of a pair of dark gray doors, not waiting around either corner of the hall leading to the site. The silence is heavy, weighed down by the heat and tension, leaving him to be uneasy as his sight through the drone began to blur. That on its own is not an issue; it's just a sign that he can’t keep using it for much longer.

“Here,” Killjoy had said, handing Sova the drone she’d built. It was designed to look like an owl, just as Sova had asked. He smiled softly as he took a hold of it.

“Thank you, Killjoy,” he’d said, “It looks wonderful.”

She’d grinned proudly and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Say nothing of it,” she’d said. “Just be careful with it. It will work, I made sure of that, but not for very long. If you notice anything off—headaches, nausea, pain—turn it off and immediately stop using it, got that?”

“Da,” he’d replied, “Understood.”

“Good,” KJ had said, “It’s no fault of yours, of course. The human mind is simply not designed for that kind of strain for extended periods of time.” Sova had nodded his understanding, still gently holding the drone. She smiled widely again and patted him heartily on the back.

“Let’s take it for a spin, ja? I want to see it in action!”

Sova should have stopped his connection there, allowed the drone to fall to the ground, and gone to pick it up. He should have double, triple, even quadruple checked every corner. Instead, made anxious by the still silence, he presses onward, flying the drone through the high window and onto the site itself. Still, there is nothing but sand and abandoned Kingdom crates and shipping gear. That, and… is that blood?

The drone glitches, vision cutting out and back in, but it is indeed blood. Blood and two figures, one hunched over the other.

Skye is pressing her hands onto Cypher’s shoulder, stemming the flow of blood as she allows her abilities to work their magic. Her eyes glow the same green as her palms, reflecting off the red smears across the wall that Cypher is propped on.

But, if Cypher and Skye are both on site, Cypher clearly injured, then that meant neither of them are at the other site, or in the halls leading to his hiding place. That means he’s exposed. And if there were no enemies on site with his teammates, then that means—

Click.

Sova drop s control of the drone, pulling his arm down and opening his eyes. He squint s his eyes against his mounting headache.

“Sova,” his voice says.

“Sova,” he responds.

“I had hoped not to find you here,” his duplicate says, “I don’t want to kill you.” The barrel of his pistol glints in the sunlight. The weight of his own pistol on his hip leaves him painfully exposed. Any move and it would only take one shot. He swallows, hoping to clear his throat but only taking in more dust.

“Unfortunate,” he replies. He analyzes his opponent, watching as though looking in a mirror. In fact, he realizes, they are mirrors of one another. His copy is nearly identical to him, and if it weren’t that all their features were reversed, down to the scars and clothing, they would have been indistinguishable. As they stare one another down, weighing the pros and cons of attacking, shooting, sparing, and any other possible outcomes, Sova hears something new over his own breathing.

A pair of footsteps, boots hitting stone pavement, approach quickly. Sova watche s with bated breath, hoping against all odds that it would be his backup. He kn ows that it won’t be, considering both his teammates are the other way, but he still allow s himself just a bit of hope.

It’s a shame he does, though, because a second later that hope is crushed beneath Viper’s black boot. His Viper is still at their compound, testing new toxins.

“What are you doing?” she asks, analyzing the scene before her. Sova feels her cold eyes bore into his own. “Kill him already. The other two won’t be busy for long, and we’re running behind schedule.”

“Forgive me,” the enemy Sova says. “It’s not easy to point a gun at yourself.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake—” Viper stalks over, wrenching the gun from his hands. It’s a bad move on her part.

Sova, spotting his opportunity, lunges. His elbow makes contact with his double’s face, foot coming out to trip him to the ground. A sudden blinding light fills the air, rendering his vision useless as he wrestles with the other Sova, but he keeps his grip tight.

A gunshot rings out, followed by a blinding pain, followed by another gunshot.

Two loud thumps fill the air as two bodies hit the floor.

Chapter Text

“That should be enough, Skye. Don’t use all of your abilities now, we don’t know where they went,” Cypher says. Reluctantly, Skye nods, letting her hands fall away from the gunshot she’d been healing.

“Take it easy, just because it’s stopped bleeding doesn’t mean it won’t start again. There’s still a long way to go for that wound to properly heal.” Cypher nodded in understanding. He groaned as he adjusted his position, preparing to stand. Skye stood, watching guard as Cypher stood, leaning on the wall to stop himself from getting dizzy.

She scanned over the site, watching for any more of the enemy.

“That wasn’t there before. What is it?” Cypher asks, pointing at a small grey heap in the middle of the sand. Skye walks over to it cautiously, brows furrowing as she realizes what it is.

“Sova’s drone?” It’s more of a question than a statement. “Yeah… Sure looks like it. How did we not hear it?”

Cypher walks to stand beside her. “Odd,” he mutters half to himself. “We must have been distracted.”

Skye nods absentmindedly, picking up the machine. It’s lighter than she thought it would be, mostly smooth titanium that reflects the sunlight. Sand pours out from the blades, sticking to the blood still coating her hands. “What’s this doing…” She trails off as a realization hits her.

Oh. Oh shit. Skye runs over the map she’d memorized on her way here in her mind once, twice, a third time. Somehow, in their rush to find a place to safely heal Cypher, they’d gotten mixed up.

“Cypher?” She asks. The man beside her hummed. “Wasn’t this the site Sova was supposed to be checking out?” She doesn’t wait for him to respond, “Shouldn’t he be here already?”

“Is it…?” he trailed off, seemingly running over the map in his own mind. “That’s no good.”

That’s all Skye needs to spring into action, dropping the drone back in the sand and running to the crates stacked near the window. Cypher follows close on her heel. They need to find Sova.

They jumps through the window, landing as soft as possible in their rush. Cypher sways dangerously as he stands up again, reaching his hand out to steady himself against the wall. Skye watches him for a moment before putting her hands on his shoulders and gently pushing him to sit on the ground.

“Stay here,” she orders. “You lost a lot of blood.”

Cypher seems to contemplate arguing with her for a moment, but another dizzy spell forces him to nod in agreement. Satisfied with his response, Skye once again stands and began walking the path Sova should have taken backwards. She peers around the corner and finds herself looking down an empty hall across from a pair of heavy metal doors.

Three more steps, and she stands at another corner. This time, she can hear faint voices drifting up over the sand. They sound like Sova and… Viper? Skye slowly pokes her head around the corner, looking down the path to a stone hall. Sova is indeed there, twice over. One is holding a gun to the other. Viper is also there, stalking up behind the Sova with a gun. Skye reflexively reaches into the small pouch she always keeps on her belt, pulling out a hand-carved bird.

She takes a breath. Viper snatches the gun. Sova lunges. Skye launches her bird on reflex. Viper pulls the trigger.

A loud bang rings out from beside Skye’s ear, and both Sovas drop to the ground, the wall painted red behind them.

Chapter Text

“Stay here,” Skye demands. “You lost a lot of blood.”

Cypher want s to argue with her, want s to stand and join her, but his head is pounding and the world is spinning. He nod s , shutting his eyes at the sudden dizzy spell. When he open s them again, Skye’s footsteps are fading around the corner.

The wall in front of him is beige, much like the rest of the buildings around. Sand had long since settled on everything, seeping into every nook and cranny. Honestly? Cypher never really realized how much he missed it until he’d returned to it. Every step was a hit of nostalgia.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen sand in years, either. But Cypher knows well that there’s no sand like that of your home, and he hadn’t been home in a long time.

He stares at the wall some more, watching as several boys run by his hiding spot. They’re washed out, just ghosts of what they’d once been.

His heart pounded in his chest while he waited, crouched beneath some wooden crates.

“Aamir!” One boy called, spinning on his heel to walk backwards. “Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“Shut up, idiot!” The other boy said, playfully slapping his friend upside the head. “That’s not going to work!”

The first boy shrugged, once again turning and running off into the busy marketplace. Aamir grinned, curling smaller into his hiding spot as the sound of footsteps faded.

Cypher blinks the memory away, surprised at his mental slip up. It’s been a long time since he’d allowed his mind to wander like that. There must be something in the sand.

He needs to move, he can’t just sit here and do nothing, not when there was a good chance Sova is in danger. He can’t just leave Skye to work alone. Slowly, Cypher once again brings himself to his feet. His shoulder aches something terrible, and the world spins dangerously around him, but Cypher is nothing if not resilient. He stands, places his hand against the wall, and slowly begins walking in the direction Skye had gone.

He rounds the corner to find her standing just a few feet away, clutching her wooden bird and peering around the corner. Th is can’t be good. He reache s to the pistol held in his holster, straightens up, and step s around behind Skye. He peer s over her shoulder, doing his best to take in the scene without being noticed.

Two Sovas. One Viper. One Skye, and himself. Five people, two guns, on e blind. A half of a second.

Viper snatches Sova’s gun, Sova lunges. Skye launches her blind, letting it explode in a brilliant ball of feathers and light. Viper fires her pistol. Cypher, not thinking about more than the safety of his teammates, holds his gun with his non dominant hand, aims as best he can, and fires.

Cypher and Sova don’t really get along all that well. Cypher will be one of the first to admit it, right after Sova himself . It’s a simple matter of values and trust, and their own ideas of good work differ greatly.

Sova values honesty, open communication, and teamwork. That is something he’d picked up in his own training and experience, and so he often trusts the people who most fit that description. That’s why he got along so well most of his teammates.

Except Cypher. He’ s a man that had learned through his own experience that the best way to survive is not to be honest. It’ s to gather and hold secrets close, never telling anyone unless necessary. He’ s learned that the smallest piece of information can mean life or death, and that it’s a risky but rewarding game to use secrets as playing cards. Cypher and Sova are opposite yet equal, not night and day but rather dusk and dawn.

That doesn’t make it any easier to watch the Russian man (men?) collapse in a heap beneath a blood-splattered wall. Beside him, Skye whips around to find the source of the gunshot , taking in the scene at a rapid pace. She looks at the gun in his hand, the bloodstains on his coat, and then back to the hall, at the two bodies. Viper stares her down.

“Skye,” she says, holding the gun she’d wrenched from Sova’s hand. She points it at Skye’s head. “Get down here.”

“And why would I do that?” Skye calls back. Her voice does not shake. “It’s two to one.”

“Is it?” Viper asks. “Your friend there doesn’t look too good, does he?”

What could she mean—oh.

As if on cue, Cypher feels a sudden wave of dizziness overtake him. The gun in his hand waver s , drifting from aiming directly at Viper’s head to a bit to the side. The world tilts, growing fuzzy around the edges. He feels his knees grow weak and the gun slip from his fingers before he can no longer hold himself upright and the world grows black.

Poison, his mind faintly supplies before the nothing takes hold.

The last thing he hears before he hits the ground is Skye’s panicked voice calling his name.