Sam liked being separated just about as much as Rumlow did - not much at all.
And he was about as conflicted, twisting over how much effort it took to sit in his plastic chair and stay put through the beginning session of their debriefing. He could still feel the weight of Rumlow's eyes on him before they were set in opposite directions - his hair had been mused from sleeping on the jacket Sam didn't even try to let him keep, his face continuing along in its soft guise which wasn't quite right but still appealing. It'd been a glance though it stuck for a moment. Even after Rumlow was lead off he stared after him, only nudged into moving by Steve's hand on his shoulder and his voice softly calling.
Debriefing was always the most annoying part of the whole mission, even past the wearying grind of waiting boredom. Hill headed it, each of the three teams reported with Steve giving theirs on the isolation and Specialized Projects wards. Rumlow was mentioned, a few of the other HYDRA agents recovered had still been fitted with their own self-termination triggers, which they hadn't hesitated in pulling once they realized who their rescuers were.
All in all the mission had been fairly successful and unsettling like anything dealing with HYDRA was. Though it raised a fair number of new questions there were still some answered.
After the formal debrief came the individual one with Coulson on tap through a holographic screen that made HD look pretty paltry. That's when attention turned sharply towards him and Rumlow, towards the bond. Did he learn anything? (Not much) Did Rumlow elaborate on what was done to him? (Minimally) How deep was the bond?( Significant. Though Sam started to find himself hedging, feeling too exposed under the scrutiny and the bonding expert brought in).
He echoed Rumlow's demands for suppressants, arguing that he might actually be more manageable on them than not. He did so with his hand right on Rumlow's file, which he was flipping through to find exactly what he'd been taken before. "He wasn't always like this and an omega, he's probably not able to balance himself-"
Which is when Hill cut in with a pinch between her brows. Then she told him, told him that Rumlow was always an omega to Sam's uncomprehending stare.
She slid back several pages in the electronic file on the tablet he held to the HYDRA one, not SHIELD"s which still clearly listed Brock Rumlow as Alpha.
Omega.
With the line of the suppresants he'd been taken typed in neatly. He wasn't familiar with the brand (or rather, not-brand) but it had Omega in it's designation.
Sam's eyes flicked over to the date. Last updated a good year before Project Insight came crashing down.
"...Always?"
"By birth."
"He never said that."
Sam wasn't quite so proud at how he mostly tuned out after that. Tactful and perhaps sympathetic, Hill kept the rest of the briefing short but Sam found himself chafing with the combination of side-looks from Coulson, Maria and Steve.
He was dragged to medical just the same, blood was drawn and the promise of results soon but one look over from the doctor had him saying that he looked bond-starved.
Sam was severely tempted not to follow the thread pulling at him towards where he felt Rumlow was, let him rot. Let him just stay there and be a lab toy because he didn't want to look at him.
Except for he did.
They weren't all that enthused to let him in when he showed up on the medical floor of the facility but some low steady insistence and maybe whatever the agent saw in the flat look of his eyes convinced him to give them at least fifteen minutes. Everything was sterile, without the twisted rank of the Hive laying underneath. Chrome-blue walls and glass fronts to the cells. Part-prison, part-med ward, part-lab. Rumlow was the sole occupant all over again. He found his cell and came near with his boots scuffing light.
He leaned on the glass wall, one arm bent up and bracing flat against the cold surface. "Hey."
Which he wasn't pushing alpha tones, they were there shadowing the bottom of that single word without any effort, pulling on the bond, shifting though the speaker that turned on once he reached over to the side and placed his hand on the light-blue patch of glass that turned it on. His position was still up and braced, caging without touch.
no subject
And he was about as conflicted, twisting over how much effort it took to sit in his plastic chair and stay put through the beginning session of their debriefing. He could still feel the weight of Rumlow's eyes on him before they were set in opposite directions - his hair had been mused from sleeping on the jacket Sam didn't even try to let him keep, his face continuing along in its soft guise which wasn't quite right but still appealing. It'd been a glance though it stuck for a moment. Even after Rumlow was lead off he stared after him, only nudged into moving by Steve's hand on his shoulder and his voice softly calling.
Debriefing was always the most annoying part of the whole mission, even past the wearying grind of waiting boredom. Hill headed it, each of the three teams reported with Steve giving theirs on the isolation and Specialized Projects wards. Rumlow was mentioned, a few of the other HYDRA agents recovered had still been fitted with their own self-termination triggers, which they hadn't hesitated in pulling once they realized who their rescuers were.
All in all the mission had been fairly successful and unsettling like anything dealing with HYDRA was. Though it raised a fair number of new questions there were still some answered.
After the formal debrief came the individual one with Coulson on tap through a holographic screen that made HD look pretty paltry. That's when attention turned sharply towards him and Rumlow, towards the bond. Did he learn anything? (Not much) Did Rumlow elaborate on what was done to him? (Minimally) How deep was the bond?( Significant. Though Sam started to find himself hedging, feeling too exposed under the scrutiny and the bonding expert brought in).
He echoed Rumlow's demands for suppressants, arguing that he might actually be more manageable on them than not. He did so with his hand right on Rumlow's file, which he was flipping through to find exactly what he'd been taken before. "He wasn't always like this and an omega, he's probably not able to balance himself-"
Which is when Hill cut in with a pinch between her brows. Then she told him, told him that Rumlow was always an omega to Sam's uncomprehending stare.
She slid back several pages in the electronic file on the tablet he held to the HYDRA one, not SHIELD"s which still clearly listed Brock Rumlow as Alpha.
Omega.
With the line of the suppresants he'd been taken typed in neatly. He wasn't familiar with the brand (or rather, not-brand) but it had Omega in it's designation.
Sam's eyes flicked over to the date. Last updated a good year before Project Insight came crashing down.
"...Always?"
"By birth."
"He never said that."
Sam wasn't quite so proud at how he mostly tuned out after that. Tactful and perhaps sympathetic, Hill kept the rest of the briefing short but Sam found himself chafing with the combination of side-looks from Coulson, Maria and Steve.
He was dragged to medical just the same, blood was drawn and the promise of results soon but one look over from the doctor had him saying that he looked bond-starved.
Sam was severely tempted not to follow the thread pulling at him towards where he felt Rumlow was, let him rot. Let him just stay there and be a lab toy because he didn't want to look at him.
Except for he did.
They weren't all that enthused to let him in when he showed up on the medical floor of the facility but some low steady insistence and maybe whatever the agent saw in the flat look of his eyes convinced him to give them at least fifteen minutes. Everything was sterile, without the twisted rank of the Hive laying underneath. Chrome-blue walls and glass fronts to the cells. Part-prison, part-med ward, part-lab. Rumlow was the sole occupant all over again. He found his cell and came near with his boots scuffing light.
He leaned on the glass wall, one arm bent up and bracing flat against the cold surface. "Hey."
Which he wasn't pushing alpha tones, they were there shadowing the bottom of that single word without any effort, pulling on the bond, shifting though the speaker that turned on once he reached over to the side and placed his hand on the light-blue patch of glass that turned it on. His position was still up and braced, caging without touch.
"You got anything else you need to tell me?"
One more shot.