"I almost forgot about you," Hawke said.
"If you hadn't hounded the Hulk, Abomination wouldn't have come to New York.
"If Abomination hadn't come to New York, he wouldn't have become Abomination.
"Then there would've been no battle between Hulk and Abomination.
"And without that battle…"
"My sister wouldn't have died."
Hawke pinned Ross under his boot, holding him immobile as he spoke in a low murmur.
The next second,
he smiled.
"Lucky for you, it doesn't matter that I forgot."
Hawke's smile thinned as he looked down at the general underfoot and spoke gently: "Thank you—for reminding me you were part of this."
Ross, who had been struggling, seemed to understand something in that instant and went still.
Hawke's eyes turned to ice.
"Wai—"
Squelch!
As Hawke's right foot came down, a watermelon-red spatter spread out beneath the sky-blue sneakers he'd worn for years—cheap, under thirty bucks, but treasured.
Thaddeus Ross.
Dead.
No speeches. Hawke had never intended to hear any; he didn't even bother giving Ross the chance.
Death was enough.
Why waste words?
Behind him,
Maria Hill—who had raced from the Triskelion and finally arrived—found her gaze fixed on those sky-blue sneakers, now stained where they had crushed Ross's skull.
Hawke lifted his foot and wiped the sole back and forth on the discarded uniform, then turned from the headless corpse to the newcomer.
A face with sharp planes, clean lines.
Icy blue eyes, hawk-keen.
A precisely tailored, perfectly fitted dark S.H.I.E.L.D. field uniform.
A name rose in Hawke's mind.
"S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Maria Hill."
"…"
Hill drew a breath and met Hawke's gaze. "Hawke."
"That's me."
Hands in his pockets, Hawke gave the woman who'd dared to walk in alone while he was in full war-god mode a small smile.
"What do you need?"
"You've killed General Ross. Next—"
"He deserved it."
Hawke narrowed his eyes, cutting her off. "Ms. Hill, if it were your sister—what would you do?"
Hill paused, then looked at him again. "Ross is dead. What are you planning to do now?"
"Now?"
"Yes."
Hill held his gaze.
She'd been cursing Nick Fury the entire way here.
They'd watched every moment in S.H.I.E.L.D.—Hawke punching tanks, kicking jets, parading his power.
By rights, Fury should have been the one to come, not her.
Whatever strings got him reinstated, once he was back in the chair and no wartime status had been declared, her authority was beneath his.
But what happened?
Fury vanished.
Wouldn't pick up calls, wouldn't answer messages, no satellite ping.
Fantastic.
With the Director missing, Hill had no choice but to step in.
Still…
She was now certain Fury's reinstatement and Ross's "perfectly timed" intel on Hawke were linked. Odds were Fury handed Hawke's info to Ross in exchange for support.
Too bad.
Ross was dead.
Hill's thoughts flicked to the headless body beneath Hawke's feet, then away.
Because—gross.
Hawke listened to her "next" and shook his head with a light smile. "Ms. Hill, what happens next doesn't depend on me. It depends on you."
Hill looked at him. "Ross is dead. You can walk away."
"Not enough."
"What?"
"Hand over Abomination."
Hawke's face didn't change as he shook his head.
He'd understood her subtext:
Ross is gone—leave it here, pretend today never happened.
But—
Not a chance.
Ross was dead; Abomination wasn't.
Hawke glanced toward the VIPs crowding the command center doorway—neither in nor out—and said flatly, "Same deal: one minute. Either you bring me Abomination, or in sixty seconds, I come take him."
The words had barely fallen before the VIPs broke into a panic.
"Where the hell is he?"
"In the lower cells!"
"Release him—get him out!"
"Move, move!"
"We don't have time—thirty seconds!"
"…"
Listening to their tear-edged voices, Hawke snorted and looked back at Hill, shaking his head. "I'll bet these are the ones who backed Ross's attack—puffed up, saw me as an ant. Now I'm at their door, and they're terrified I'll treat them like ants."
Hill studied him. "Are you going to kill them?"
"It depends."
"For example…"
"If they don't touch me, I don't touch them. If they do, I strike back."
Hawke smiled. "See, Ms. Hill? You're standing right here, perfectly fine."
As he spoke—
Thoom!
The ground shuddered. The earth split, and a towering brute—uglier even than the Hulk—forced its way up from below with a grinding roar.
Abomination.
But—
As the locks on the cell failed and he smashed free, ready to roar his return, he froze. Everywhere he looked: burning APCs, exploding tanks, shattered fighters, endless rubble and corpses.
What…?
Apocalypse already?
He blinked, baffled—then his gaze caught on a small, human "ant" with his back turned.
A cruel smile crept across his face.
If Hulk fought on a "counterpunch in self-defense" pattern, Abomination's was "rage and ruin without restraint."
Hulk's host was a scientist.
Abomination's host was a soldier who wanted one thing—to get stronger, then stronger still.
So—
Abomination, attack!
He roared, charged a few steps, then launched himself high, shadow blotting out the sky. He meant to end that little ant in the most brutal way—under his heel. Slowly. Messily.
Hawke didn't move, eyes still on Hill.
Hill saw the leap in the corner of her eye—the looming weight like a stormfront rolling in. As the monster descended, the already-cracked ground shattered in a drumbeat of fractures.
She felt the pressure crush down and forced herself not to buckle.
And still—
She didn't flinch, watching Hawke.
Their eyes held.
The wind howled.
Hawke felt the gust of killing intent at his back, and the corner of his mouth lifted.
The next second—
He turned.
He punched.
BOOM!
Abomination's chest detonated, and the creature shot backward like a fired shell, slammed into a burning tank, and, tangled with it, tumbled and crashed away in a roaring avalanche.
Until—
CRASH!
He landed among ruins—and three blazing tanks he'd dragged in his wake came down from the sky.
In the face of fire, all are equal.
The hulking body vanished under the sheets of flame. Sizzling filled the air.
Abomination.
Dead.
He died the moment he appeared.
No banter—one punch, and gone.
Hawke had killed Hulk; a creature who couldn't even beat Hulk—if Hawke took him seriously, if he traded three hundred blows—what would that say?
That he didn't respect the Hulk?
Or didn't respect his own Cosmo?
Unlike Hulk,
even as Abomination burned, he didn't change back.
After all—
Bruce Banner was overexposed to gamma radiation and thus birthed the Hulk.
But Abomination? Emil Blonsky shoved gamma serum straight into his major artery.
In short, Abomination and Blonsky had long since fused into one.
Abomination was Emil Blonsky.
Emil Blonsky was Abomination.
Hawke, having thrown his punch, didn't spare the corpse a glance. He looked back to Hill.
Between the two, she interested him more.
Hill replayed the effortless kill in her mind, but kept her face composed. "And now?"
"What do you think?"
Hawke slid his hands into his pockets again and met her gaze, calm.
Hill held his eyes, gears spinning. "Hulk is dead. Abomination is dead. Ross is dead. The three men tied to your sister's death are all gone."
"Yes."
"Then go home."
Hawke burst out laughing.
It was a cutting laugh.
Hill's heart lurched.
The clump of dignitaries at the doorway—stuck between in and out—shivered at the sound.
…
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]