High on Determination
SHIELD HQ
"Agent Rogers, accept it, he's gone." James heard Director Fury murmur under the door. She had already tried to getting to Mama, but it appeared that the keypad was locked.
"I will do NO such thing, Fury. He's my husband; I'm not giving up on him." Her voice sounded cold and icy. It made little James shiver. She didn't like it when Mama used that tone of voice.
"Anna, do you really want Elizabeth to grow up with a false idea that her father is still alive? Feed her a lie that is far from the truth and then watch her deal with the ultimate pain of bearing her father's death, when she really realizes he's gone." Fury sounded as if he was getting angry at Mama.
"No!" Mama had snapped. "He's not dead, don't you see, Nick? He saved me! We were both on that boat, and he ripped me from that sinking ship and pulled me to the surface. I know he's alive."
"Then if he is, why didn't he come with you?" James heard a sound like boots being thrown up on a table.
"Steve always had his reasons for doing what he did." She had hissed through her teeth. James could paint the picture of Mama in her head, her hands pulled onto her hips and her long, pretty red hair dangling in front of her face like strings of fire.
"Agent, if you keep up this absurd idea that Captain Rogers is not in fact dead, I will have to be forced, unfortunately, erase your memory… Of…everything." Fury said with a long sigh. To the little girl outside the big iron door, it sounded like a tea kettle whistle.
"You would not dare." Mama sounded like she was sad. Her voice caught on something like a bump or a lump in her throat. Sometimes James got those when she was really sad. Like when they said Daddy was missing, and wasn't coming home for a very long time.
"I'm afraid I have to, Ms. Rogers."
"Wait! No, I will leave SHIELD. I promise, you will never hear from me again or see me ever again, Nick. J-Just," her voice got jumpy like a scratched CD, "let me say good-bye to Elizabeth, please." She seemed to beg.
"If you swear, Agent Rogers, and never show your face in SHIELD again, I will allow for you to run." Fury sounded stern like Daddy did when James got into his weapons.
"I vow to my very last word, Fury…" Her voice now sounded caught and tangled.
"Then, go. And never show your face here again, or to your sister. You know Natasha will fight and kick until you are permitted to stay, and that is something I cannot allow."
"I understand, sir." There was the sound of thick footsteps. Mama's boots made that noise when she was taking her slow steps. When Mama really wanted to, she could make her boots sound really quiet, and no one could ever hear her. The doorknob started to twist to the right and little James jumped out of the way, her heart pounding really fast. She didn't want Mama's ice voice to turn on her. She looked up at her mother. She was so tall and towering like the skyscrapers outside, but she wasn't as tall as Daddy. Her green eyes looked down at James with a sad look. James had never seen Mama look like there were little tears in her eyes.
"My little James, come here." She said with a slight tone that made the little girl shiver lightly, but with fear of displeasing her mother, James took a step forward. "Elizabeth, you have to run when I tell you to, okay?" James nodded, but scrunched her nose when her mother used her long, fancy name. "You heard that whole conversation didn't you, little one?"
"Yes, Mama." James spoke in her surprisingly clear voice.
"Good. Now, listen to me very closely, sweetheart. Go out the front doors of Headquarters, run down First Avenue, and straight to this dead-end brick alley. Now this is a very special alley, one of the bricks leads to a secret place. Mama's friend lives there, but you have to find the brick that isn't the same, James. It's very crucial you press the right one, honey, or else it something very bad would happen. Now, once you find the brick, press really hard on it with all of your strength, sweetheart. The man there is really nice, and he'll take care of you. But, promise me something, Elizabeth."
"What?" She asked with an adorable tilt of her head.
"Don't ever lose hope in your father, my sweet. He's alive and well, but I'm going to find him. If I don't return to you, James, you make it your mission to find him. Promise me this."
"Yes, Mama." Tears welled in her eyes. They looked like two big oceans waving in a storm. James didn't know why her own eyes started to get wet and teary, but Mama had been sad. She felt her own tears drip from her eyes.
"Te amo, mi." Her mother spoke softly to her. James recognized the Latin tongue her mother used. She opened her mouth to return her love, but Mama pulled her into her strong arms. "Stay strong, little one. Now, run." She whispered into her petite, little ear. James pulled away looked at Mama for one last moment, and then ran. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her across the building. She reached the front doors of headquarters and pushed them open with her tiny arms, but they wouldn't budge.
"James, what are you doing?" The voice behind her made her jump. She twisted around to see her cousin, Kendra, looking at her. Her hair looked exactly like Aunt Natasha's, like it was caught on fire.
"Nothing, Kendra, Mama wanted me to get the paper for her." She lied through her teeth.
"Oh. Well, I'll help you!" She ran over to help James. Together the two little girls pulled the doors open. Once they were open enough for little James to slip through, she rolled out onto the sidewalk. She blinked away the sunlight from her eyes, but it was really bright.
"Thanks, Ken!" James called to her cousin and Kendra waved at her from inside with a smile. The little girl turned and saw that the city was filled with all sorts of people. She had walked the streets with Mama and Daddy, but little James had never been outside SHIELD without one of her loving parents. She was a little scared, all these people kept walking past her, but no one looked down at the little girl. She swallowed and rushed down the avenue, just like Mama had said.
Eventually James came upon the dead-ended alley that her mother had spoken of. But all too soon, little James realized that the wall was made up of hundreds of crumbling bricks. They all were different, not one was the same as the other. The little girl slouched hopelessly on the sidewalk and looked around for her mother, praying that she might be there, but she realized she was alone. The fall air was chilly on her bare arms, but James managed to look up again at the bricks. Though it seemed to be too much for her, little James got up and walked over to the brick wall. She ran her little hand over the hard and broken bricks.
Each one had a little notch broken into it, like it was purposely built into it. James traced the intricate pattern that had been traced into it. It looked like a sun with interlocking chains and lines circling around it. She pressed hard onto the brick, but nothing happened. She sighed and stepped back again. Maybe, she thought to herself, the brick is really plain. She began looking all around for an unbroken brick, but none of them seemed to be untouched. She picked up a little rock that had been lying on the ground, and then threw it against the wall. Like a wave the wall moved up and over, but a single brick stayed in place while the others moved in waves. She took a small step towards it and placed her palm onto the brick. It seemed to warm at her touch, to James' surprise. She smiled triumphantly and pushed down onto the brick.
The wall began to shake and quiver. Two vertical halves split and the door emerged from beneath it. It was a big, glass door not unlike the doors that marked the entrance of SHIELD. James reached and touched the doors, pulling with all of her might to open them. A big hand pulled open the doors and allowed the little girl to come in. The man who had helped her in was really tall, but not as tall as Mama. He had dark hair and big black eyes that looked like they could see straight through James.
"Now, who are you, little child?" The man asked in a deep voice.
"My name is James Rogers, sir. My mama, Anna, sent me." The man's face twisted into a frown and he looked down at the little girl with a look of distaste.
"You're Elizabeth?" He asked with a funny accent that made James giggle.
"That's my first name." She stuck her tongue out. "But I like James better."
"And why is that?" He snapped at her angrily. James looked away from his scary look.
"Because my Daddy's best friend was named James, I'm named after him…" The little girl said slightly crestfallen.
"You will earn that name, for now, you are Elizabeth. That is the name in which your parents gave to you, and that is the name I will call you. Now, young lady, what is your name?" He asked with a raise of an eyebrow. James didn't like him. He was making her mad, just like how Mama got mad when James didn't clean up her toys when she was done playing with them.
"My name is James, sir!" She chirped. The man stepped forward and slapped the little girl across her cheek. She cried out and sank to the floor.
"Lesson number one, little child, never disobey your teacher. I'm Martin Buren, I taught your mother and aunt the ways that they know, and now I shall teach you. And you will be Elizabeth." Martin said with a harsh tone. James hid her face from him and cowered against the wall.
"Yes, sir." She whimpered quietly.
"Now, get up." He pulled her up by the scruff of her T-shirt. "There is much too still be learned today, Elizabeth."
Four brutal years of training had passed since James had first come to Buren. He was beyond cruel and merciful, but he taught her well. Mornings began with a vigorous five-mile run on an icy track, literally an ice track, built inside the training building. It was a large domed room where the ice was slick and cold, but James had been taught to run on it barefoot without slipping or falling, and running around it several hundred times. Her feet had rough calluses on them from the daily morning run, which was usually followed with a quick yoga stretch, and then the real pain began.
Buren would give her an assignment that had to be done in a certain amount of time. One could have been being shoved into a room with a dozen rabid dogs. The challenge would have been for James to kill every single one, without receiving a single nip or scratch. If she failed, her punishment would be the very injury she earned from failing the challenge. Buren had already made her walk across a cavern of hot lava without flinching, escaped an entire hoard of killer bees, and managed to earn a black belt in karate. And even with all of this, the old trainer still refused to call her by her name. He called her absurd, vulgar, and disturbing names that could make her do a double take just to make sure he was just calling her that to get her attention.
After the assignment of the morning would be finished, she would have a relaxing break and receive a very filling mouthful of bread with water. Then be forced to do a hundred push-ups with her right arm and then once completing that task, switch and do the other. Then after that lovely exercise she would begin her dreaded leg-lifts, where James had to lift her legs twelve inches off the ground and hold them above the ground as she quivered from the pain of the work out.
Next, she would face the opponent of the day and fight with hand-to-hand combat until she her face was raw from being beaten so much. Most days it would be Buren's son, Raj, who could take James down within ten minutes, or it would Buren himself. They were both fierce and crazy, but James was slowly learning how to deflect their attacks and hold herself without showing an ounce of pain when, truly, it was all she felt. Soon after the combat fighting, dinner would be served and all of Buren's family would flock to the big, marble kitchen.
Chelsea, Buren's wife, and himself could easily make James wish her parents were still with her. They had five sons who all had the characteristic angular, square face as Buren. At the dinner table they ate like pigs should, laughed, joked and made their mother so irritated she practically went on a rampage after them every night. Their family was strict and strong, but they were a family. Chelsea was a handsome woman with strong cheekbones and thick black hair, but her blue eyes were warm. And although she was often disappointed with her sons' behaviors at the dinner table, she loved them dearly and that was obvious. Buren even became…warm at dinner. He would enter with his graceful, fluid-like movements and plant a kiss on Chelsea's head, and then take his seat at the head of the table.
One night that James remembered was perhaps the hardest day she had ever been through. It had been a long training day, and she was tired and felt truly worn. Buren had told her to wash up in the bathroom that was by the kitchen. James had splashed the cold water over her hot, sweaty face and felt her skin scream with relief. She had wanted to savor that sensation forever, but instead, dried off her face and changed her clothes as fast as she could, before hurrying downstairs. Raj was seated at the right of Buren, Samuel across from him, Marcus, Luke, and William all sat in their appropriate areas, while James slid in next to young Will. She turned her face down to the white plate that sat on the clean, white table cloth. Chelsea scolded her to sit up and so she adjusted her back and straightened her form.
"Well, looks like Raj beat the crap out of you." Marcus said to William as he studied his brother's black eye. Raj was the most mature out of all the brothers, at least, most of the time, but he was usually good-natured and kind. Though his brothers liked to push him to his limits, the oldest brother could usually still maintain his anger and keep a good temperament. But, there was one thing that made Raj's blood boil, going into his sock drawer. No body ever really knew why, but it was the way he was.
"Don't go into my sock drawer, little brother." Raj said with his good-natured tone. He looked at James and winked, she knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Elizabeth, eat your beef. Chelsea cooked that all day." Buren said with a slight snap of his tongue. James bobbed her head once and sliced through the tender meat with one swipe of her knife.
"Look at her, Dad's got her wrapped around his finger like ring." Luke whispered to Marcus, who started to laugh in hysterics. James looked between the two of them, her wide blue eyes looking between the two of them with disgust. Her anger rising above its normal point and her eyebrows coming together into a frown. She brought the knife up through her fingers using the method that Buren had taught her, and tossed the knife through the air and straight through a lock of Luke's hair. The table fell silent as the knife flung itself into the wall.
"Your father is my trainer. He is not my master and I his slave, nor is he my father. So, please do not disregard me as a little girl who cannot hear or care to hear. I still may be young, gentlemen, but I have had more training than both of you." James said through clenched teeth. She tossed her napkin on the table and got up excusing herself from the dinner table.
James hadn't meant to get so angry at both of them, but they had pushed her anger too far. She wasn't Raj who could hold himself together even if it was the worst day ever for him. She was Captain America's daughter and injustice would not be taken lightly. A small tear slipped from her eye as she ran down the wooden hallways and into the training sector of the colonial mansion. She sprinted into the room where Raj and Buren would teach her to fight with everything she had.
The room was squared off and had a single piece of furniture which was a bench to place water bottles, towels, and various other weapons. In the middle of the room was a large, black glossy circle that shined in the dull light of the room. It was built the way it was for the challenge of an ungraspable surface. The floor was slippery, but it was always smooth and easy to mess up on. James could not count the many times she had been beaten to her knees on this floor, only to be kicked in the ribs and snapped at to get up.
Footsteps echoed above her coming from the house, probably Buren coming down to scold James for insulting his family. But at that moment, James didn't care. She only wanted to lie down on that glossy floor and remember. Remember her father…
She is five. The sun was bright and warm on her face, and her father had her upon his strong shoulders. His hands clasped her little knee-caps as they walked down the pier together. Those same hands could pick her up without the slightest effort and make her laugh with delight as he swung her around. The pier had been crystal blue that day, and the fall winds had nipped at her cheeks, but her father had brought her down from his shoulders and held her against him, sheltering her from the bitter winds. It had been the best feeling in the whole world. Daddy would always be there. Always.
"Elizabeth." The voice awoke her from her reverie. She saw Buren standing in the darker part of the room. His face half hidden from her by the shadows of the corner.
"Yes, sir?" James said through clenched teeth.
"You are beginning to realize the pain of defeat, aren't you?"
"What are you talking about, Mr. Buren?"
"This feeling. This nostalgic feeling that you have about your father, you're starting to believe like everyone else he's dead, aren't you?"
James heart caught in her throat and she couldn't speak. Is that what she was beginning to think? Her father was not coming back to her. This made her world start to spin to a dizzying speed, it made bile begin to rise in her throat and fear began to twist inside of her. It seemed to strangle her innards and suffocate her breath. Her worst fear was the death of him.
"No." She said softly, hopelessly.
"That is a lie, Elizabeth. Defeat is the worst enemy, once you begin to plant that seed of doubt into your mind it has already won. You see, defeat is like a virus. It roots itself into your mind from the very beginning, but until something unpredictable happens you do not realize it's there. That unpredictable thing has already happened; you hoped your father would have returned to you by now, haven't you? It has been four years."
"Four years is a long time."
"In the blink of the ninety-something years your father has lived? You forget that he survived a devastating plane crash, my girl. He was frozen in time for seventy years and brought back to life, Elizabeth. Your father is indestructible, almost like time itself, little one. I met him once, and he gave me these." Buren pulled from his pocket a shiny, tick chain with two tags hanging on the end in round shapes.
"What are they?" James asked as she got closer to look. They were two metal sheets about the size of her palm.
"Their called dog tags, the men when they go off to war get these to hang around their necks. If one of them goes down, they know who they are. These were the exact ones your father wore in his days in the military." James snatched the shiny chain away from Buren holding them to her heart dearly. They still carried the faint smell of him, his cologne and sweat.
"Thank you, sir. I-I don't know how to thank you." James spoke almost speechless.
"Don't give up on your father; he didn't go down in battle. He gave these to me because of that reason; he said these exact words to me: 'I'm not going to die on the battle field. Take good care of these for me.' Do you think your father has fulfilled every word he has ever said?"
"Yes." James said quietly.
"Then don't give up, my child." He said with a slight touch on her hair. Buren got to his feet and walked out of the room leaving her alone with her father's dog tags. She lifted the silver chain to her face to see it better. Sketched gently into the metal were three things:
Captain Steve Rogers
July 4th, 1920
United States of America
She let a small tear slip from her eye. "I love you, Daddy." She whispered to the empty air, but, as expected, there was no response.