ukase: DW: famira (Whoa show pony)
Brock Rumlow ([personal profile] ukase) wrote in [community profile] nysalogs 2018-04-23 03:27 am (UTC)

[He would like to think that her anger or disgust with him wouldn't bother him, that he had raised her as much as he could in the limited opportunity that he had and that was good enough. He had always thought that Romanoff might not agree, but she would, in her own way, understand. It didn't mean that she would stand by and let it all happen - which was obviously the case - but she couldn't exactly spit in his face for it either. The Red Room was part of HYDRA in how it raised its agents.

So he supposed that he wasn't actually surprised that Ava wasn't angry with him, with the decisions that had been made a long time ago which he couldn't and wouldn't take back. This also wasn't a subject that he spoke about, though maybe his hand was forced all the same. It was his life, and he didn't have to explain himself to anyone.

HYDRA was a well-oiled machine. It knew how to recruit and retain; it had spent fifty years doing so after it had been remade. He too had recruited, and those he recruited also did so. That was part of buying into the loyalty; one had to spread it too.

He wanted to tell her that he didn't care what she thought, and he knew that he would be right too. What he did was his business, and he didn't ask for the approval of anyone; he had long ago stopped looking for it beyond HYDRA itself. However, he held his peace on that, understanding that she was processing and filling the air with her thoughts as if they might comfort him... or maybe herself.

Her question earned a soft grunt from him, and he considered not saying anything but telling her to knock it off. However, she, like Romanoff, might understand if not agree.]
HYDRA was my salvation, my family. They gave me a chance and a means to grow and become a man who could change the world for the better. They encouraged it, and yeah, I got my hands awful dirty, but I did it because HYDRA gave my opportunity to believe what I did would make a real difference.

[Beyond them, the memory continued, though young Rumlow was released from his bonds and staggered to get dressed again. He struggled back into his uniform while their mentor approached the waking traitor and neat as anything, blew the man's brains out, messing the wall behind the now dead body.

"Clean this up, you four. There can be not a trace," he said and looked around at them. The lesson had been taught. This was the worst part, cleaning up the bodies, the blood, the brains and everything else that came with erasing the dead like they never existed.

However, Rollins hesitated from joining the other two and came over to help him into his jacket when it was clear he was struggling but not complaining. Their mentor was pleased and left them to their grim task.]

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