The six headed HYDRA

by Malcolm Merlyn

SANDVICH

Grinding on her teeth to stop herself from crying out in anguish, it took all of Trude's willpower not to release her hold onto her own teeth, in fear that the moment she opened her mouth, she'd scream loud enough for the world to hear.

"You got messed up badly kid." Slade commented as he examined the broken arm that hung in the makeshift sling before taking out a syringe and injecting the witch with the numbing medicine. "Maybe you shouldn't be taking on world class assassins when all they taught you was basics CQC."

"I only lost because I wasn't strong... enough." Barkhorn muttered as she sat down in the library, waiting for Medic to finish up with whatever he was doing. "I'll be ready next time..."

Slade was about to say something, but lost the oppurtunity when the door to the basement swung open, and the doctor came out, with...

A sandwich?

"Doc?" Slade asked quizzically as he looked at the shiny plate with what would appear more to be Medic's lunch than some form of way he would heal a broken arm. "The patient here has a broken arm... shouldn't you be using that healing beam of yours?"

"Just eat." Medic replied as he sat down and pulled out his notebook. "Eat."

"In case you haven't noticed... we got a problem with someone's bones... not their stomach..." Slade sighed. "What the hell is that thing for?"

"Just eat ze damn thing!" Medic ordered, growing somewhat impatient.

"Why can't she eat after, it's not like..."

He was about to say something, until he saw Trude pick up the rather tasty looking meal, and take a bite. Her eyes light up for a moment, most likely not at the taste, as delicious as the sandwich may have been, but rather at teh fact that the moment she finished taking her first bite, her other arm began to twitch and move slightly, before removing itself out of the arm-sling. Broken arm evidently healed, by eating a sandwich.

"Did I say you were the best doctor I've ever met?" Slade commented as his one eye grew to the size of a dinner plate. The only other person who was watching, happened to be Erica, who in an instant, went from her usual bored look to as though someone had magically healed a broken arm with two slices of bread, a slice of ham, bologna, lettuce, tomato and cheese. In short... WHAT WAS THIS SORCERY?

"Next time... do not question my genius!" Medic practically announced to the world. "Frau, you are gud now... but take better care of yourself."

"Danke herr doctor." Barkhorn said as she examined her now healed arm, which functioned good as new. Her mind smoked of the man in the skull mask who had done this to her, and mentally, she plotted exactly what she was about to do about this. \as much as the girl would love to play herself as a disciplined soldier, she was not immune to the many bouts of senseless rage at times which she went through. Right now, being a good example.

Slade studied this intently before smiling a bit. That looked in her eyes said it all. Revenge. What a fickle gambit it was, either ending with total satisfaction or complete disaster. Slade would have his own questions, as to whether or not CQC in the 1940s really was comparable to apex fighting skills of the modern day and age. Sure... she had superhuman strength at her side, but the guy in the bat costume had long proved that it didn't take superpowers to take down some of the biggest and baddest boys on the block. Slade had proved it too when he jacked the plane, only thing was, it is less impressive when your body is physically capable of brushing off knives to the chest or tearing apart plane doors with only one arm.

"You thinking something kid?" Slade smirked. The rage in the young woman's eyes was clear to even a novice in trying to figure someone's emotion out by looking at them.

"Yes..." Barkhorn snapped. "I'll find him... and he's going to pay."

"Revenge huh?" Erica commented. "I am out."

"What are you looking at?" Trude snapped at Slade who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Admit it kid... you never really fought for real with your hands have you?"

"And how do you know?"

"The fact that you can turn an ordinary man, or even metahumans into toothpaste by hitting them just once or twice spells out you can easily get fights done... only thing was... you lost. You know how kid? Let me answer for you. I watched you fight and even fished your unconscious body out of there. You have strength but... no skill... no discipline. To say you fight like a girl would be a complement... oh wait."

He grinned inwardly despite putting up a "I am disappoint" expression. He could almost taste her fury at this point. Also quite the thin skin he might add, for someone who prided themselves on "discipline". He still got a few more nerves to get on.

"And you know what? It's going to happen again and again until you learn what discipline REALLY means." Slade grinned. "I learned all those things when I was younger than you were and didn't exactly have things like magic at my side."

"If you're so disciplined, skilled, and if your half as smart as your mouth... why don't you teach me then?" Barkhorn half asked, half taunted. "Or are you just all talk?"

He was talk alright... but certainly not all talk and no bite...

"You sure about this?" Slade asked, a bit taken back. Normally... when someone told him he was "all talk" it usually ended with an impossible feat and maybe an unconscious body but this time... she was goddamn serious about this. She wanted to learn from him?!

"Yes." Barkhorn spat out.

"Then you better prepare yourself... I am not afraid to hit a girl... and that's going to be happening... a lot." Slade said, his voice dripping with menace, but a bit feeling an ounce of respect for the witch. She really was serious about this. "Tomorrow, I got to Canterlot to get Princess Sunbutt's warhorses into proper shape so they don't have the tactical ingenious of a potato. You are going to come with me so you do not have the fighting skills of one of these overgrown child toys."

"Very well." Barkhorn said as she went out back to do pull-ups.

"Well... she's going to be in for it." Steve said as he sat down outside of Twilight's new home with Applejack, Fluttershy and Twilight. Bucky sat with them. Even after being in Equestria for over a week, the soldier still had no clue to how to react with to the miniature and rainbow colored horses, except for comment occasionally on how their names vaguely sounded like ice cream flavors.

"Ah just hope she'll be okay. Poor gal fighting those dirty varmints and getting one of her arms broken!" Applejack commented. "She sure is a real stubborn one... that one..."

"And that Slade is such a big meanie!" Pinkie commented, not forgetting all the times Slade had described her with less than pleasant adjectives and the countless number of times that he had pulled a Deathstroke, which for the first few moments, Pinkie sense was unable to detect. A DELAY IN PINKIE SENSE... "Why isn't he nice like you Steve?"

"Slade's got his reasons for being a cold bastard... his wife shot him for christ's sake... and it's his children all hate him... but he's not all that of a bad guy despite how much I want to knock his teeth out. He saved Sanya's life last time, and something tells me it wasn't for no reason."

"Well... that's awfully nice of him." Fluttershy commented.

"Oh he sure as hell wasn't doing that out of the goodness of his heart." Steve continued. "He probably has a lot to atone for... gotta start somewhere eh?"

"Part of the reason he's probably even here." Bucky commented.

"We both know that we're only here because we have unfinished business." Steve shot back.

"What? You mean that..."

"Whoa... hold your horses for a moment... just because I have some unfinished business with HYDRA doesn't mean I wouldn't come here if you REALLY needed me... it just gives me an extra reason to be here."

Let's be honest... the star spangled man REALLY wasn't too into talking horses...

"Same goes for me... though I honestly doubted something like this existed... then again, you told me you doubt we existed... I always wanted to meet a talking horse..." Bucky began but stopped talking as he watched Trude in a training bra and her "pants" do pullups outside. He considered his comment about "prancing showgirls" again... only to realize that when dealing with horses... they probably didn't give a wooden nickle. That... and the fact she NEVER wore pants...

Was it him... or no matter how hard he tried to turn away from Trude... he always kept looking back?

"Speaking of Trude... what does she and Erica get in all of this?" Steve asked.

"They never asked for anything... Medic and Slade both asked for money at the end, but she and Erica both said nothing..."

"Damn... now that's..." Bucky began to say SOMETHING.... only to remember that goddamn SS uniform that left a bad taste in his mouth.

He wondered for a moment how much a uniform truly meant about someone... or how much someone meant for the uniform they were wearing.

He took a glance at his best friend for this question.

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[Malcolm Merlyn]

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