ˢⁱⁿᶠᵘˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵃᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ

໒꒰ྀི'🐍‧｡⋆

[ stairway chit-chat ]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐞. It was shrouded in a golden light, clouds of smoke surrounding the still-powered structure.

The soldiers moved, guns trained forward as they eyed the building before them. They stationed themselves behind clusters of rubble and crashed cars as Rick spoke discreetly into his comms. 

Deadshot stood up, walking towards the glass doors as he stopped beside Rick before continuing to walk. "What do you say we get this over with?"

"What the hell? Deadshot!" Flag whispered in urgency. "Fall back."

The hitman simply continued his venture, grabbing the steel handles and pulled, which caused the thin glass to shatter into thousands of pieces, alerting anyone inside of their arrival. 

Immediately, the armymen followed, Rick coming up beside Floyd with a rhetorical mutter, "You mind if we tag along?"

You sighed as you entered the room, finding it disturbingly quiet as you didn't make any haste to produce one of your guns, the axe resting lazily over your shoulders. 

The lobby of the building was a sleek design, however within the past day, it was completely destroyed; glass strewn across the floor, lights flickering and the lounging furniture tossed over carelessly.

Floyd and Rick walked towards the front desk, where a series of photographic shots were displaying the views of the security camera on numerous floors and levels.

"Whoo! Looks like we have a spot of luck, eh?" Harkness beamed. "Be a walk in the park. Easy peasy."

"Don't make me shoot you," Floyd deadpanned, whilst Boomerang simply snickered in response.

You glanced to your side, eyebrows pulling into a frown when you saw empty space instead of the usual bleached woman inhabiting it. At the sudden loud ding! echoing through the hall, yourself and the group looked up to find Harley in one of the elevators, smiling mischievously as she rested her palm on the steel railing. 

"God damn it! Harley," Deadshot whispered in annoyance.

"Go, go, go, go!" a soldier ordered. 

You didn't follow them as quickly as they would've liked, due to Rick, Floyd and GQ turning around upon not hearing the usual sound of your scuffed boots. 

"Y/N, can you not go rogue like Quinn?" the hitman half-pleaded with a glare. 

"Not my time yet," you shrugged a shoulder before gesturing to the hallway at your right. "There's some type of stair system over there. I'm gonna go check it out."

"Yeah, right," Flag scoffed, narrowing his dark eyes on you. "That ain't gonna happen, Viper."

"It's a fucking flight of stairs. Get over it," you huffed. "Besides, you've got your pretty little watch to blow my head to bits in case I decide to try to leave this oh-so wonderful group."

"Flag, she's right," GQ suddenly agreed, eyes gracing through the glass walls. "It looks like a quicker, albeit less safe route."

"See? Even your lap dog agrees with me," you smiled. 

Floyd sighed, glancing up at the elevator again, although he couldn't see Harley inside due to the escalator already being halfway up the building. 

"I'll go with you," he concluded.

"Hell no," Rick rejected, shaking his head. "I'm not letting two assassins on the run together."

"You're more than welcome to join me," you drawled, rolling your eyes. "I just wanna check it out, that's all."

You began taking experimental steps towards the hallway, which irked Flag with a frustrated grimace. "Viper, stop."

"At least send him with me," you said, pointing at GQ. "Maybe that'll loosen the cork up your ass."

GQ let out a surprised huff of laughter, quickly shutting his mouth upon the dark look Rick passed at him. Turning his withering glare on you, you merely tilted your head to the side, awaiting the words you knew were about to be uttered.

"I'll go."

"How surprising," Floyd muttered, before nodding at you. "Try not to kill each other. And if you do... Kill him first."

"Roger that," you grinned with a lousy salute of your fingers, turning around and beginning the small walk through the hallway towards the large set of stairs.

Flag muttered some orders to his righthand man, before moving to follow behind you. He took off in a slight job to catch up with you, meeting at your side when you stopped at the front of the stairs. 

"Ladies first," he murmured, eyeing the steps.

"Pussy."

Although the fluorescent lamps above were dingy and hanging on for dear life with a barely present brightness, they still reflected off the frosty blue glass walls which allowed your pathway to have some source of light. The concrete stairs were still clean and trimmed, besides from the occasional littering of glass and rubble. 

You glanced from the corner of your eye at Rick, noting the way he continued to move with stealth. His shoulders were tense beneath the dark camouflage uniform, and his mouth was set in a firm line, jaw ticking every so often. 

"GQ, location?" he questioned quietly into his comms. With bated breath, he waited for a moment until the staticky reply of his teammate came through, confirming their whereabouts.

"Have they found Harley?" you asked softly as you rounded a corner, gun trained forward for any forms of life but finding nothing but another set of stairs. 

"There just about to reach the next floor," he muttered in response, not sparing a glance at you. 

You sighed, before looking up at the stairs. You and Flag were about halfway through the flights, and from about three levels above, you could hear the faintest sounds of shuffling boots, hoping that it was the group. 

Now's the time.

"Hey, Flag? I've got a question," you prompted.

"What now?"

With an abrupt spin, you struck at Flag, shoving his body backwards. He grunted at the suddenness of the attack, feeling your forearms pin against his upper chest. Soon, he was pressed roughly against the glass wall, one of your arms strapped tightly to his front whilst your hand reached to your pants.

With a flare of his nostrils, his eyes narrowed at the imposing axe grazing his neck. You were holding the weapon at its shoulder, and your glare was just as sharp as the gleaming serrated edge. 

"Now, you're gonna answer me," you hissed out. "Who are we trying to save, and why do we not know who it is?"

"Like hell I'm telling you," he snapped, only to roll his eyes with annoyed groan when you pressed the axe closer.

"Who is it, Flag? Or else we'll try out a different method of head decapitation."

"We're already in the building, Viper. You're gonna find out soon enough," Rick tried, staring at you. 

"Why is it such a fucking secret with you government pricks?" you questioned.

"Why'd you kill her?"

The inquiry was so rushed and abrupt, it had you faltering for a moment. But that was long enough for Flag. He rammed into you, and a pained grunt escaped your lips as you found yourself in the same position you had once pinned the colonel in. His breath, warm and somehow still minty, fanned against your cheek as he practically pushed your body into the adjacent wall. 

"What are you talking about?" you breathed out. 

"It's time for an interrogation, hypocrite. You ask me. Now I ask you," Flag stated in an almost soft tone. "Why'd you kill your little sister?"

The words only enraged the red behind your eyes and you half-screamed in his face, trying desperately to shake his grip so you could fucking strangle him. 

"Fuck you, Flag," you spat out.

"I'm tryin' to get an understanding here," he tried, grunting as you nearly got a hold on him through his grip. 

"Understanding of what? What kind of question is that?"

With enough force, you managed to shove him backwards, and he was quick to place a hand over his gun in case you tried anything. But instead, he watched with a guarded expression as you heaved a breath, surprise pulling at his features when he heard you sniffle.

You looked up, and your eyes were nothing but cold and venomous as you reached for your axe which had clattered to the ground. Picking it up over your shoulder, you walked forward and up the steps, only pausing to mutter, "Come on."

The walk was silent, and filled with enough tension that you could swipe your axe through the air and cut it. Rick was quiet, not even speaking into his comms and simply following closely behind you. 

"I'm sorry."

The apology was soft and addressed to you in a mumble. You paused, feeling your fingers itching to at least slap him across the face or something. 

"You know what bothers me about you type of people?" you wondered, turning around to face the colonel. "You have no fucking idea what I've been through. And you think, just to build up your empathy factor and feel like a good person underneath all the camo and guns, that you have to be someone you're not. That you have to help people like me. People who have been through some of the worst possible thing's life could throw at a person and have dealt with things differently. Trauma? You became a soldier, and I became a criminal." You met Rick's eyes, and they were squinted in their usual way, however an emotion you couldn't even be bothered to mention or even acknowledge swirled in the darkness. "Not everyone turns out the way society expects them too. But at least, have the decency to actually know my fucking story before you start wondering how to fit yourself into it."

"Then tell me."

"Why the fuck would I tell you anything? " you cried out. "You don't know, and I sure as hell don't know you. You hate me, Rick... You should hate me."

"Trust me, I'm trying my damn fucking hardest too," he sighed out, and you almost didn't believe it. 

Does he realize he just said that out loud? 

"Look, Flag..." Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose, nostrils flaring as another exhale left you. "It's like I said before. After this mission, I want out. No more Belle Reve, no more prison sentence. I want to be a free woman. And, as painful as it is to admit, you have connections. Connections that I need. So, stop being a prick for a second and have some empathy that you're obviously trying to shower on me by asking me that stupid question."

"I can't promise you anything," Flag said. 

"You don't have to promise me shit. You're making it happen." Turning around, you walked up the stairs, standing at the top of the flight. Looking up, you could hear the pitchy voice of Harley. 

"Where's Y/N? And that colonel bitch?"

Flag went to follow you, and was barely able to press one boot-clad foot onto the first stair before your voice sounded down the case. 

"Oh, and Flag? Don't ever question me about my life again. I don't think Waller would take too kindly to find her favorite colonel strung up like Christmas lights in front of the Pentagon."