"Ah, no, no, no," I beg, pleading, crying once I see the body lying on the ground. I don't want to go towards her. I don't want to but my body has other plans, forcing me to face up to my consequences. The emotions running through me were like a typhoon but compared to the tears it was a slight shower of rain. This…This isn't possible. No, I cry. I am beginning to choke up, my pain flooding throughout me. This is my fault. This is my fucking fault. I drop to my knees. That empty void is swallowing me from the inside out. Maybe if I was faster, stronger, smarter, I would've known beforehand and could've prevented it. Fuck this. I grab her lifeless body and bring her towards me, tears pooling down my eyes like rain drops. There was no need to yell for help. Everyone here was dead. Including her. Damn this. I was feeling that emptiness again. I was feeling so much that emptiness just outweighed it all. Outweighed my love, my pain, my sadness, my happiness, jealousy, anger. Nothing but empty.
She was dead…
…and there was nothing I could do about it.
. . . . .
48 hours prior…
"You ready, Rogers?"
"Nope, but I have no other choice."
"That's the spirit. Get ready to drop in…3…2…1."
The cargo hold opened and I dropped. All the way down I was whispering a silent prayer that I wouldn't die. My mission? Clear the ship of any and every hostile enemy while getting intel on a secure facility that SHIELD needed coordinates on. It sounded easy while I was flying through the air at a speed of about a 100 MPH. Unfortunately, for me I wasn't going right, left, or up. I was going down. No parachute. No bouncy house on the ground. Just straight up water. The Langen Gang, a German freight ship, held information on a hidden facility in the Rocky's. To me this was a mission, first of many I assumed. To SHIELD, this was training. I looked at the deck full of armed agents. Training, my ass. This was a full blown going in guns blazing. And that's another thing. They hadn't given me a weapon. Fury had talked with one of the SHIELD scientist and they said it would be better if I relied on my super soldier abilities in order to improve my skills and strength. I called bullshit and demanded I see this scientist's credentials. Apparently he had gone to Harvard, graduated a year early, and spent two years studying the human anatomy. I'll be damned I said. Natasha had a laugh and said I needed to lighten up. Screw that, I needed to load up. I actually wanted to use the gun Peggy had given me and as soon as I had gotten on the SHIELD jet some agent tried to confiscate it. I knocked his teeth in and before I could kill the guy Natasha took it and said she would take care of it. I trusted her. Sadly, the same couldn't be said about the dickwad in the medical wing. Yeah, now he needs braces. At the time when I punched him I didn't know how much strength I actually put in the punch. It didn't feel like a lot. But every time when I try to open a door the handle breaks. Natasha has gotten a couple of quips in about that every time. Says I need to tone down on the steroids or lay off the milk. I saw screw you and she responds with a wink. And I can't help but feel the blush that creeps across my face every time she does it.
Incoming ocean, buddy.
Quickly, I position myself into a dive, placing my arms on the side of my head, and locking my feet together. When I landed in the water only my chest hurt. Even though it had been nearly twenty-four hours since Tony and I had fought my chest was still sore from his blast. It had felt slightly irritated but I would look at it later. Right now I had a mission that I had to complete before sun rise.
I had may my way to the freighter and pulled myself up using the chains on the outside.
"F-190 to American Eagle," My com rang in my ear with the sound of Natasha's voice.
"Will you stop calling me that?" I grunted and pulled myself over the hull of the ship, ocean water dripping off my black SHIELD issued suit.
"F-190 to American Eagle, do you copy?" Natasha persisted. She had been calling me American Eagle ever since we got on the damned jet. And ever since then she wouldn't respond to me if I didn't respond back as American Eagle.
I sighed," American Eagle to F-190, I copy."
"You know your mission stats?" She asked and I could hear the smile on her face.
"Nope, even though you repeated them to me twenty times, detailed, and thoroughly on the cargo hold," I hid behind a crate and using the mirror adjacent to me I analyzed how many soldiers were onboard.
"Ok, well let me go over them thoroughly one more time," She stated and I groaned before grabbing a disc looking object and throwing at the nearest soldier. He fell down like a bag of rocks and the disk flew back towards. This would work. "Clear the deck of any hostile enemies and make your way to the hull of the ship. There you will find a big computer, can't miss it. Find the coordinates to a secret base in the Rocky's. Once done, get out unseen."
I wasn't paying attention to a damned thing she was saying. I was in a choke hold and some other soldier had my feet locked down. Using the disk I bounced it on the ground only for it to knock out the guy holding me in a choke hold. I landed on my head but that didn't deter me from sitting up in the soldier's arms and head butting him.
"Holy shit, Rogers, you just went Terminator on his ass with the head-butting."
Grabbing the disk from the ground I took off, throwing the disk off one soldier for it to bounce off another guy. Knocking out two birds with one disk. Nice.
"I am glad you approve of my fighting techniques," I grunt, punching one guy in the face. I jump off the railing and land on another soldier. And for a moment while I stood there I realized my subconscious was a little too quiet. Hey, where are you?
As your skill set grows stronger so do you. This is your opportune chance to prove to yourself that you don't need me, that your mind grows stronger with the knowledge I have given you.
Oh, I was kind of sad at the thought of my instinctive subconscious leaving me.
Don't worry, we have a couple more weeks together but for right now pay fucking attention.
I smiled a little.
"Rogers, why the hell are you just standing there? You got a mission to finish," Natasha's demanding voice brought me out of my thoughts.
"Yes, ma'am," I respond and take off running towards the hull.
. . . . .
SHIELD Jet…
Natasha turned off the com for a minute and turned her attention towards the screen ahead of her.
"Stats," Fury demanded.
"He is doing great, fastest I have ever seen anyone move," Natasha commented," He just cleared a whole deck of HYDRA soldiers in less than five minutes, survived jumping from a jet five hundred feet in the air, and went Terminator on a guy holding his feet together."
"He head-butted the guy?" Fury asked, astonished. She nodded," Well, I'll be damned."
"And he moves so effortlessly too," She stated," He has no history or record in training in parkour yet he moves like he has done it all his life."
"Fighting?"
"It is like his body naturally accommodates to the task at hand, whether it is fighting or running. His fighting skills are superb. He is a natural, reflexes, instincts, combat, and endurance are exceedingly outstanding."
"Can he take you?" Fury asked, smug smile appearing across his lips.
"Hell no," Natasha stated flatly.
. . . . .
Meanwhile…
"How is he doing?" Johann Schmidt asked in a thick German accent.
"Like we expected, sir, but even better. Instincts, reflexes, endurance, speed, strength, and flexibility are beyond our expectations. Exceeding the level actually. But he shows much restraint in combat, he hasn't made a kill yet."
"Don't worry, it is going to happen soon and when it does I want you to prep for his arrival."
"Yes, sir. And what are we going to do when he gets here?"
"…Welcome him home, of course."
. . . . .
The Langen Gang…
I had made my way to the hull, finally, and when I saw the computer Natasha was talking about my mouth dropped. She wasn't kidding about the size. This thing was fucking humongous but also ancient technology. Hundreds of screens but only one keyboard.
"I see the computer, F-190," I state after getting over my shock," This thing is ancient though. Like Dinosaur Age technology."
She chuckled a little bit," Get that thumb drive I gave you and insert it in the base of the computer."
"Got it," I said and did as told," What do I do know?"
"Something is going to pop up on the screen and when you see it, click download all," She answered and I did just that. I watched as all the files began to download on the thumb drive. It was going at a slow rate but I had the patience. I had knocked out almost all of the soldiers and I wasn't particularly worried. For a first mission I was doing pretty well until something caught my eye.
ERROR-System Attack-ERROR
20 minutes till detonation.
"Deto-? No, no, no," I mutter and type furiously across the computer," Natasha I tripped some kind of fail safe. There is a 20 minute detonation on this thing."
"No way," She said and paused for a moment," Holy shit, the entire bottom of that freighter is rigged to blow. "
"I thought you said usually first missions don't have to do with explosives."
"This is bigger than we thought it was…I need to contact Fury. Um, is it still downloading?" She asked and I looked back at the screen.
"Yeah," I say slowly, my eyes catching something.
. . . . .
SHIELD Jet…
Natasha turned the com off before returning to the screen broadcasting Fury.
"Sir, we got a shitload of explosives in the hull, 20 minutes till detonation," Natasha said, never taking her eyes off the screen which had Steve in it.
"Is the file still downloading?" He asked and her eyes shot to him.
"Nick-," She tried to warn.
"Keep downloading until we get all the info," He stated and Natasha nearly broke the computer.
"Fury…he is in there," In her mind she was pleading," Please, don't make this call."
"Sorry, Romanoff, but this information is vital if we wish to take down HYDRA one day."
The Langen Gang…
59% Downloaded…Rogers, Steven Grant
60% Downloaded…Attack Coordinates
"Wait, wait, wait," I bent back down towards the computer to clarify what I had seen," Why does this file have my name on it?"
Natasha went silent for a moment," What?"
"Why does this fucking file have my name on it?" I slam my hand against the desk, demanding a damn answer but before she could breathe a syllable I hear a gun click behind me. I whip around to see an old man, lab coat, receding gray hairline, and cracked glasses.
Absolutely no training in combat whatsoever, aim for his knees, and then knock out. Disarm him first.
I throw the disk towards him and immediately it disarms him. I pick the gun up. It feels weird in my hands but my body adjust to it immediately.
"Oh ist mein, es Sie," He says and for a moment I don't know what he is saying but that moment is short-lived.
"Worüber sprichst du?" I ask and I cover my mouth. Did I just speak German?
"Rogers, did you just speak German?" Natasha asks but I pay her no mind. I am focused on the jittery scientist in front of me and the fact that I know German.
"Who are you?" I ask, gratefully turning back to English.
"It doesn't matter who I am," He says, his voice rich with German heritage," You're the one who matters more than anyone on this ship…Aw, man, when they said you were beautiful I didn't expect you to be this glorious."
"What-What are you talking about?" I stutter and look back at the file downloading.
15 minutes till detonation.
"After all these years you are more than I expected," The jittery doctor murmured and brought himself closer to me. I backed up instinctively and he stopped. "Don't be frightened…Don't you remember me?"
"I don't know you," I mutter. I don't know this guy. Do I?
"It has been ages since I had last seen you," He marveled, he had gotten closer to me, hands in the air, trying to shape around my face," Arnim Zola? Don't you remember? That trip you took to the doctor ten years ago?"
I shake my head, frantically, only making the confusion worse. Between the file I was downloading, this guy who supposedly knew me, this bomb, and the fact that he was so entranced by me. Natasha remained silent.
"You, my boy, had visited the doctor ten years ago for a checkup only to find out you had developed a rare disease that causes all of your organs to shut down during strenuous activities. If shut down too many times it would cause extreme amounts of pain before death. There was no cure known to the medical world but the hospital you visited…St. Joseph, was funded by the organization I worked for…HYDRA. Once we got your results for something we working on we had to have you. My brother and I, Dr. Abraham Erskine, had been working on the serum for HYDRA. I had been working on a pre-meditated serum for the serum coursing through your veins now. You were the right age, right size, right blood type and had a clear minded brain. You weren't naïve like the other subjects and you had a certain fire to you that I couldn't help but admire. I injected the pre-serum into you. Mr. Schmidt wanted something to use. Using my brother's degree as a doctor and my profession as a scientist we made the serum but somehow you were the only subject who lived to survive the procedure. Unfortunately, our research was burned when something went terribly wrong…You must understand, boy, you were the only surviving subject. So when Schmidt came to your home, he had good intention-," Zola was interrupted.
"Wait…Schmidt," Was he-? No. It wasn't possible,"Umbringen er meine Eltern…?"
"Bitte-."
"Did he kill my parents?!" I raised the gun up to his head, anger fueling my sadistic desires. The scar on my abdomen began to itch and voices began to echo in my head. I could hear Natasha's voice in the background, telling me to leave, but the voices drowned her out.
Kill him.
"Schmidt needed you to be prepared for what he wanted from you, what he expected from you," Zola explained," He needed you. You were the only who could survive the Super-Soldat-Verfahren. Your parents were just going to get in the way and besides…we needed an excuse to take you."
10 minutes.
I couldn't believe what he was telling me. This guy named Schmidt killed my parents because he needed me, cause I was the only surviving subject of this pre-serum bullshit but…
"Wozu?" I ask but he doesn't respond and I pull back the slide of the gun before repeating. "For what?!"
"A weapon to win the war with America…and destroy SHIELD," Zola answered and took a more confident position," I must be honest with you…I can't blame him…I mean look at you, your parents would have gotten in the way of your greatness…"
The voices echoing through my head rang loud.
Kill him.
I cocked my head, tilting my ear down as to pour the voices out.
"…He told me of his great feat when he had gotten back all bloody. How your parents screamed…"
The voices grew all around.
Kill. Him.
"…He told me you watched him do it too, your own parent's blood splattering across your pajamas…"
I cocked my head to the side and closed my eyes, voices growing louder.
Pull the trigger.
"…He also told me you didn't run. At first I thought shock? But no, it must have been admiration…"
Kill him!
There is a beep, a shout, a bang, and a snap.
The computer was almost done downloading, he had grabbed the gun from me and shot, Natasha shouted, and I? I had dodged the shot, took a step forward, and snapped his neck. His body fell uselessly on the ground. Lifeless. I don't know what had gotten over me but I had picked up the gun and just kept shooting over and over again until the tip of the barrel was smoking. The feelings washing over me didn't compare to the emptiness I felt. I just killed him. My first kill. And when I did it I didn't stop shooting. Why didn't I stop? It was like my bare hands weren't enough. I just had to have the satisfaction that he was dead. And I had to admit, part of it felt good. Adrenaline pumping, blood rushing, heart racing experience. It felt good. No, it didn't. It did, absolutely. Quietly and slowly I sat down on a crate of explosives, both my head and gun hanging uselessly in the air. My elbows were against my knees and I slouched with defeat. Is this what power felt like? Is this what men had desired for thousands of ages? What they had gone to war for? I don't know why they killed for it. It was overwhelming sensation of empty, darkness. A dark void of eternal suffering…What the hell am I talking about? I just realized some ignorant, power whore, fucker killed my parents because I was the only one could survive the Super Soldier Serum without dying and here, I sit, being poetic. I really need a voice of reason here but no, I am growing stronger by the minute that he can't even speak to me or telepathically do what he does.
Fuck me.
"Rogers?" A voice asks and I realize Natasha is speaking through the com, softly, not bothering to break the void. "Rogers, you need to leave. That bomb is about to go off."
"Yeah?" I ask, in a bored manner.
"Yeah," She confirms, softly.
"No," I can't hear but Fury says it directly talking to Natasha through the com," The file hasn't finished downloading. Tell Rogers to stay put. That's an order."
A moment of silence passes. I don't move. Natasha fumes.
"Yeah, I am so done with your bullshit, sir," Natasha says and I can hear an engine start," Rogers you got exactly two minutes. Get your ass out of there alive or I will haunt your ass in the afterlife."
"Romanoff," Fury warns.
"Come on, Rogers," Natasha ignores Fury all together and I can't help but laugh at her defiance. I look up at the downloading file.
90% Downloaded…Coordinates
1 minute and 30 seconds till detonation.
Should I? Or should I not? My decisions are weighed here.
…
Screw it.
I stand by the computer, whistling a tune familiar only to my own.
95% Downloaded…Super Soldier Project
1 minute
"Rogers, what are you doing?" Natasha asks, I can hear the jet outside the hull, ready for my departure.
"I need to know, Natasha," I answer.
97% Downloaded…SHIELD Attack Plans
30 seconds
I am bouncing on the balls of my feet.
99% Downloaded…All Files
15 seconds
My hand hovers over the thumb drive and my body is ready to take off.
100% Downloaded…Complete
10 seconds
"Rogers! Get your ass on this jet now!"
I take off, grabbing the thumb drive before jumping over crates of explosives. I see a hole at the end of the opening and I see a jet. A SHIELD issued jet. My heart races with the adrenaline pumping my body to go faster. Wishing I would go faster. Willing it to go faster.
5 seconds
"Come on, come on," I hear Natasha mutter. I focus on moving faster. Once the explosion goes off the pilot will have to get away so to not risk the jet blowing up as well. I know I can go faster. Looking up I see Natasha standing on the jet, hands out, pushing me to hurry. I don't know what it was but just the sight of her pushed my body harder, my legs began to move faster without my own control. I reach the edge of the freighter and jump.
2…1
…
Boom!
…
The jet goes to the left, trying to avoid the flames.
…
My momentum carries me but the explosion sends me flying.
…
The jet continuing to go farther away doesn't help me.
…
Nothing but flames.
…
I grab onto the edge of the jet, smile appearing across my lips. Natasha smiles at me but both of our smiles fades when I begin to slip off the edge of the jet, my grip doing nothing. My weight tips the jet slightly and I begin to fall until my hand catches the bridge.
"This is not fucking working," My body hangs over the flames of the ship.
Swing your body.
My voice of reason reawakens and I do as I am told, swinging my body back and forth.
Propel yourself forward.
I swing for a little bit and push myself upward, pain coursing through my back. Natasha helps me up, grabbing my bicep and practically pulling me into her arms. The tension in my body releases automatically as I make contact with her, bringing me to a sort of peace. Damn, it feels good to be in her arms. Behind me there is a raging fire and in front of me a glorious snowstorm. Relief washes over me like a flood. I did it. I fucking did it. The smile on my face is soon going to break my face if I don't stop. I step out of her embrace and look at her but she isn't smiling. She is staring at her hand, lips parted, and worry written across her face. Sniffing the air I realize it is blood, the metallic smell resonating through my nostrils.
She looks at me questioningly, eyebrow raised. I look behind me and I almost faint.
My back is charred, the flames had completely engulfed my suit and now burned at my skin. Now realizing it is there the pain came crashing down like a bitch and I turned towards Natasha with clenched teeth.
. . . . .
SHIELD Headquarters…
"They work well together," Coulson stated," You should be glad there on our side-."
"I am glad," Fury stated, arms crossed," But rebelling, together, makes me want to treat them as if they are on the other side. Natasha is defiant and rebellious, he is ignorant and tenacious, together they would make the perfect combination but working with them…I am going to be honest with you…it is a bitch."
"This is his first mission and he just learned a shitload about his past that he didn't even know about. You can't blame him and she, being madly in love with the idiot, can't blame her either. You sent him to his death for fuck's sakes and she was protecting him. You. Can't. Do. That. Nick without repercussions. Your greed clouding your judgement and now he has second degree burns on his back," Coulson huffed and plopped in his chair.
"…Rough day?" Fury asked.
"Yeah," Coulson sighed," My cat died."
"I offer my condolences."
. . . . .
Meanwhile…
"Ah-ha! Prep for his arrival! I want this place in tip-top-shape when he gets here!" Schmidt yelled and ordered his agents. "Did you see that?! If that wasn't beautiful I don't know what is. He just kept shooting Zola, shot after shot after shot. His death won't go in vain but- as the Americans say- hot damn that amazing."
"What about the red head, sir?"
"Ah, what the hell? Bring her in too…This is a celebration, of course! A homecoming!"
. . . . .
The Jet…
"AHHH!" The pain coursing through my back was excruciating. They had stripped me down to my bare chest and had gripped my biceps for dear life. I was questioning their motives until they began to pour some liquid substance against my back that had me screaming. Natasha's soothing words didn't help, her hand running wildly through my hair didn't either. Both of the agents holding me down, hard by my arms tried offering little words of encouragement but it was all bullshit. For some reason I was raging and wanted to get out of their grip. Natasha was the one pouring this mysterious substance on my back and it didn't help my rage. My teeth were locked together, my back arched with the scoring pain, and my grip on the seat was turning deadly.
"Just a little bit more, love," She muttered to me but I could barely hear her over my own cries of pain. Her voice was pained, pleading compared to my own. She didn't want to do this," Come on, I know you can handle it."
"AHH!" I roared, arching my back, trying to get further away from this toxic motherfucker pouring down my back. Tears clouded my eyes and sweat was building up on my skin. Wrenching my arms away from the agents holding me down, I shoot up, and push both those idiots away from me. Natasha places whatever she was pouring on my back on the ground before I shove her against the wall. I make my way towards her in a threatening manner but she doesn't seem frightened.
"Stop," She demands when I get a breaths length away from her. My body betrays me and I do exactly as I am told. We lock eyes. My rage meeting her peace and my fire meeting her ice. It is a toxic combination but we balance each other out. Odd as it is, I accept. And the look on her face she accepts it too. Our fellow agents retreat to the cockpit and we stand there, looking into each other's eyes for the answers to all the world's questions. My hands are clenched into tight fists, the pain still radiating off my back like the sun radiates heat. Wordlessly and without her taking her eyes away from my own, she places her hand on my bare shoulder. Her hands are cold and bloody. I enjoy the cool sensation as long as I can before she slides her hand down my biceps, next my elbow, then my forearm, and finally making its way to my hand. Quietly, she slid her small fingers into my clenched fist, relaxing my hands, before intertwining our fingers. My hands relax and I tighten our intertwined fingers. My jaw is tight and she sees that. Much like before, she brings her hand up to my jaw, but her eyes roam over it like it is such beauty. She runs her hand numbly over my jaw and the sensation is enough to bring me to my knees. But I stay strong. She can feel my resistance and brings her thumb to my bottom lip, coaxing it out of its tension. She pulls at it, the pad of her thumb bringing it down. I believe she is done but I was so wrong. Her hand rises from my lips to the plump beneath my eyes. She traces it like she is reading braille and a moment I question whether she seeks something she can't see.
"Thank you," I tell her, breathlessly, before leaning my forehead against her own, anger washing away. And suddenly I can feel my skin beginning to mend, it is an awkward sensation but it heals me fully.
"Hey, next time you have an episode count on me," She smiles and I snort amusingly.
"I wouldn't necessarily call it an episode…," I sniff and the hand that traced the plump under my eyes went to the top of my mouth. She traced the curves of my lips and me being more daring than ever I give her middle finger a little peck. The response if nothing but glorious as she smiles brightly, teeth luminescent against her red lips.
"How about a fugue state?" One of the agents suggested from the cockpit.
She smiled and I laughed.
"Well, at least, that doesn't make me sound insane," I stated
"Trust me, you are insane," She mutters to me.
"…And why is that?" My brows furrow with curiosity.
"Cause you're with me," She says and I love the way she smirks up at me, her hand falling from my lips to my chin, next my neck, then outlining my collar bone, before dipping to my bare chest, and carving the outlines of my bare muscles. I watch her, eyebrow raised. "Now, you're beginning to look like me."
I laughed, eyebrow still raised.
"Hey, Romanoff!" One of the agents from the cockpit shouted. "ETA Ten minutes."
I look up at her confusingly," Wait, where are we going?"
"You think you're done? That was just the tip of the iceberg," She winked at me before walking away.
"Hey, can I, uh, get a shirt?" I ask and lean against the cool interior of the jet.
She gave me a once over before saying," No."
. . . . .
Later…
Germany…
"We not only need to test your combat capabilities but how you handle in the field with just your wits," I heard Natasha over the comm. I nod, adjusting the three piece suit against my body. The mission? Kill some illustrious woman who committed fraud, homicides, trafficking, and has knowledge of something that she shouldn't even dream about. I was posing as a newly hired bodyguard. She was to be escorted from one place to her hotel suite where she would converse with her equally rich friends, there when she done she would excuse herself to her room for the night. The only order I was given was to kill her discreetly. They didn't tell me how, where, or why. Only that I was the one that would do the deed. And as I stood outside a door, waiting on a Miss Jennifer Lance I stood pondering what SHIELD was really all about. They wanted me to kill someone. And a question arose? What did they really do? Their motives and conspiracies have me quiet suspicious. First they wanted to cage me like an animal, second they wanted to put me down, third they ask me to join them, and lastly the use me to kill a woman I know absolutely nothing about other than the fact that she there are multiple charges against her. These was one of those moments I miss my second sub-conscious. I teeter, shoving my hands into my pockets, and look around at the other body guards.
"Nervous, newbie?" One of them asks and my attention shoots towards him.
"Um, no, sir," I shrug my shoulders, playing the role of an amateur body guard," Just a big fan."
"We were all big fans once upon a time…Isn't that right boys?" All of the other men nodded. "But don't let it dull your senses, newbie."
"Yes, sir," I fake a gulp. This dude is fucking ridiculous. Next thing I know someone is signaling that my target is exiting the facility. I jump, all thoughts gone and the need to fulfill my mission floods through me. I take position and walk through the crowd of photographers and interviewers. I open the door and wait for my target to come out and once she does things get hectic. The guards try to escort her through the crowd of persistent photographers and into the limousine. I hold out my hand for her and she grabs it with a great amount of force. Once she is in the car I get in the driver seat.
She huffs as I begin to pull the limousine out.
"Mrs. Lance, where to?" I already know the answer but it's part of the routine.
"My hotel," She answered, as expected, and I nod," Hey, are you the new body guard?"
"Yes, ma'am," I answer, one hand on the wheel the other running through my hair.
"What's your name?" She asks.
"Michael," I lie. I don't want any of this tying back to me," Michael Laurence."
"Well, Mikey, since we are going to be knowing other for quite some time why don't you tell me about yourself," She says and I breathe out a sigh. This is going to be one long drive. I tell her about my fake like as an ex-football star. Quarterback for my old college in Tennessee. Go Blue Dolphins. I tell her about my expertise in marksmanship and I how I used to pick up chicks with it. How I fished, how my parents weren't rich or poor but just in the middle, how I climbed Mount Everest, and how I survived a bear attack. I told her about the American Dream, my American Dream. If the world wasn't at constant war and if we didn't have power whores that maybe I would've gotten to live that dream. She smiled and laughed and told me how her parents had gotten their fortune. Her ancestors were miners who struck gold when they transferred to California during the Gold Rush. And how when she was a child she would have guards on her non-stop including when she went to birthday parties and school. I laughed occasionally here and there about some of the stories and for one fleeting moment I actually thought I wasn't on a mission.
"Here we are, Mrs. Lance," I say and get out of the car. I toss the keys towards the valet before escorting Jennifer Lance into the building. She makes a move to trip and accidentally falls onto me. She apologizes but lingers on me a little too long. Soon we make it towards a table with her friends. They chat for a minute and I am too busy looking out the window to notice they began to look at me. But when my nose closes in on something other than there perfume I shoot around.
"Hey, Mr. Bodyguard, sir," One of them shouts," My friend, the one you're protecting, has the hots for you."
My target blushes insanely and I nod, my lips upturning the slightest. In another world I would've flirted back. It begins to grow dark and finally my target says farewell. I was getting tired of them. I walk my target to her penthouse apartment and I can tell by the way she walks and the way she slurs my fake name that she is drunk.
"Tonight is a beautiful night," She practically shouts as we enter her apartment," Don't you agree Mikey?"
I nod slowly, softly," Yes, ma'am."
"I am going to take a shower," She slurs and begins to strip.
I pause and before I know what I am doing I say," Yes ma'am.
She smiles proudly and walks towards her bathroom, still stripping. I tear my gaze away. I have to make it look like an accident. I make my way towards her bathroom. She already started the shower and was letting the water run down her back. I chant in my head, it has to look like it was an accident. But to be honest, I didn't want to do this. I was holding back tears of killing this woman. I had been calling her a target in my mind only to forgo the fact that she was a human being. A person. I don't want to do this I practically plead in my head. For a moment I think about just leaving. This wasn't like earlier when my reflexes acted on its own, or when it was kill or be killed. No, this was straight up murder. I bit my knuckle to hold back my cries of anguish. Killing someone wasn't easy. But then something reminded me that this woman, this target, was a bad person. She had killed people herself and she, herself, thinks of only getting whatever she wants. Soon enough she turns around and sees my silhouette but it's too late. I already made my decision.
"Hey, Mike-," My hand slips into the shower before yanking her ankle back. She falls. I hear a thud then a snap.
"I am so sorry," I plead and tears burst through like a damn. I just killed someone. My bare hands. And the fact that she said my name, my fake name before she fell just kills something inside you. Like, literally, something inside me just died and now there is a hole in me. And in this moment it feels as if nothing can fill its place.
. . . . .
Five minutes later…
After I had gotten myself together I had walked out of the building but before I could go to the extract point someone stopped me.
"Hey, newbie, you're supposed to be protecting Mrs. Lance," It's the same dude from earlier and I fight so hardly not to knock his ass to the ground.
"Yeah," I choke out and rock back and forth on the balls of my feet," She didn't want me there anymore and some other guard named, Michael Laurence, said he had it taken care of."
The man before me nodded and shook me on the shoulder. "Good…It is good to obey their orders."
I nod and excuse myself, making my way towards the extract point.
Once I was in the car, I sat there and placed my elbows on my knees. We were on our way towards our hotel for the night. The two agents, Frank and Tripp, were sitting in the front while Natasha and I sat in the back of the spacious car. But I didn't care. A million thoughts, voices, memories, were shooting through my head like bullets. Kill them. It's fun isn't? Seeing the light, the life ease from their eyes? I know you like it. No…You love it. The sadist son of a bitch you are, you probably enjoyed it. Didn't you? Huh…? DIDN'T YOU?
My hand finds the armrest.
The sound of smacking as his fist kept beating them resounded throughout the room. Nothing but the thud of my heart beats and the smack of his fist. My cries were probably heard all over the neighborhood as this red-faced man kept beating on my family but no one came. No. One. Came. And my cries were nothing compared to the screams when he was finally making his way towards me.
My hand tightens and it rips the armrest from the interior of the car.
The voices, the memories, the thoughts cease. All three of them are looking at me with concern, fear, and a tad of worry written across their expressions. I could expect that too. I am sweating and my eyes are slightly blood-shot.
"You are so quiet," Tripp says softly," I sometimes forget that you are suffering."
"Tell us what's bothering you, mate," Frank says and I run my hands through my hair.
"I don't want to talk," But I need to.
"Come on, Rogers, tell us what's up," Natasha says and my eyes meet hers. Green and blue meet yet again.
I sigh," You ever kill someone-?"
I ask all three of them, even though Tripp is driving he is listening intently. Frank nods, not ashamed of his out comings, Natasha hesitates before doing so, clearly ashamed of her own, and Tripp he shakes his head vigorously. He reminds me of T'Challa, who has a noble and kind heart.
"-And when you kill them you can't help but feel power and emptiness at the time same time and it tears you apart. It, like, swallows you whole. And in that moment you feel as if nothing can make you whole again. Just the memory…the feeling…of taking their life overwhelms you, body and mind. It takes a toll on your humanity and your spirit. It drives you crazy and for one fleeting opportunity you want to do it again. It awakens your inner killer, your inner sadist and you tell yourself just one more. But every time you do it, a part of yourself dies in the process. Instead of a soul you just have an empty void waiting to be filled with grief and angst at the fact that you just took someone's life. You keep telling yourself it is just a target -a motherfucking target- but you keep avoiding the fact that this target is an actual human being with a life, kids, family, and an actual non-fucked up future. And people kill for what? Money, power, women, men, love, the fuck-of-it, and hell, some of them are bat-shit crazy but the consequences of taking an actual fucking life…it is unquenchable guilt and for some fucked up reason I don't feel as bad as I should," I huff. I feel like the preacher on Sundays when I go to church. He is really into his sermon, knows about it, experienced it, and shares it with others and tells them about another one of God's miracles. But I am preaching something different. I have experienced it and the second time it happens I feel like I know every damn detail.
They stare at me all in different perspectives. Natasha looks at me with understanding and Frank just looks ashamed, like he was reviewing his own wrong-doings and thinking them over. Tripp is trying to understand and I can't blame him for that.
Frank sighs and turns away," Unfortunately, I know how you feel."
"Hey, you did it for a good cause. This woman knew too much and with information like that it couldn't get into the wrong hands. Steve, you can't feel bad for a woman who brought this upon herself," Tripp says from the driver seat and I take in his words.
I fall back against my seat in defeat and look over at Natasha. She stares at the floor, not blinking. I question whether or not to break her out of her haze but she looks pained, hurt, as if this memory induced haze brought something terrible that she was hoping to forget. Hesitantly, while looking out the window, I grabbed her hand and intertwined our fingers. Her teary eyed gaze shoots towards me.
"I see you too," I whisper to her and the words mean more than anything in the world. She saw me at the party, when I had nothing but a vendetta, and now, for the first time, I can finally see her.
. . . . .
Later That Night…
We had arrived at the hotel. Tripp and Frank had practically flew out of the car, got to their rooms, and fell fast asleep. Natasha was asleep, leant on the door. I sighed before getting out and walking towards her side of the car. Quickly I open the door and catch Natasha in my arms, her head lulling against the space between my neck and shoulder. Closing the door with my hip I carry her bridal style towards the hotel. The receptionist and concierge smile at me as I make my way towards the elevator. One of them actually calls the elevator beforehand so I don't have to wait and I smile at them in thanks. I walk in the elevator, teetering on the balls of my feet but my eyes never leave her face. She actually looks peaceful.
"Rogers?" She asks, hoarsely.
"Yes?" I still don't take my eyes off of her, even when her green meets my blue.
"What are you doing?" She asks.
"Being a gentleman," I answer and she snorts. A moment of silence passes over us and the elevator ride can't seem to get any longer. She shifts in my arms, adjusting her position.
A beat skipped before she asked," If for a night, you could just forget about it all, the memories, everything…Would you?"
It takes a minute for me to answer but I nod. Then the air shifts and as does she. She hops down from my arms and I already begin to miss her warmth. She walks about two feet away from me before turning around and looking me dead in my eye. I lean back against the railing.
"What do you want most in the world?" She asks.
"Natasha, how does this have to do-?"
"Trust me, Steve…What do you want most in this world?"
"You," I answer and she pauses.
I could practically see the gears in her head, working its way to an option or choice. I lick my lips and my head dips. The sleeves of my three piece are rolled up and the jacket, I left in the car. The vest and shirt are warm and wrinkled from a certain red head being in my arms. My pants and shoes are slightly wet from the late night dew from earlier. My red tie is worn and I tug at it a little. But what happened next…Well, my clothes might as well be damned.
She kisses me.
She tugged at my worn tie and brought my face closer to her own before bringing her lips up to mine. I freeze but the warm sensation of her lips on mine makes me melt. It's soft at first. She was testing the waters. And I hesitate. I hesitate and she backs up. I already begin to miss the feel of her.
The elevator dings and she starts to walk away but my hand is too fast by grabbing her wrist. I swing her back towards me and our lips meet together again. And that is where things get heated. She kisses me with a sort of fire, a hidden passion that's been hidden a little too long and she shoves me against the wall. Her hands roam through my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp. My hands are wound tightly around her small hips. Surprisingly, I am not half bad at this. Her tongue slides against my lips and I remember that as a sign to allow her tongue to clash with my own, the fight for dominance just beginning. My body is filled with fire and the sensation is purely intoxicating. But before I know it, it is over. Natasha places her hand on my chest before shoving herself away from me and walking out the elevator with more sway to her hips than necessary.
The elevator doors begin to close and I begin to contemplate. Either go to my room, a floor above this one, or stay with her and forget about the shit that is my life.
…
Fuck it.
I force myself in between the doors and practically race down the hallways towards her. She smiles when I slam her into a wall, my body pining her there in that spot. I kiss her with it all. My anger, my passion, my desire, my sadness, my pain. I pin her hands against the wall on the either side of her head and I take pride of the gasp that escapes her.
If you are wondering how I know to do this…Bucky and Darcy showed me a couple of videos before the date. Kind of hard to forget.
I bring my attention towards the smoothness of her neck. Biting and kissing. Her hands run down my back and I try to lean down more to get a better angle. I tease her here and there but she doesn't tolerate it before shoving me against the wall adjacent. She walks towards me, making me urgent for her touch. I pull her towards me when she is arm's length. She is about a foot shorter than me and it begins to become difficult. She notices and taking me by surprise, she uses her flexibility to wrap her legs around my waist. I bite my lip and she smiles evilly as she begins to roll her hips against my own, the friction awakening something in me.
That's where I kind of, how do you say…?
Embraced my more barbaric side.
I slam her back against the adjacent wall, her thighs still wrapped around my hips. She gasps at the pain beginning to shoot through her back but for some reason I don't pay any mind. My mind is going into another mode. I don't hold my strength back. The scene we are in just makes more of a strong aphrodisiac that takes over my senses and the only thing I can think about is her. She pulls my lips back up to her own and while doing so she began to strip me of my tie and practically ripping the buttons of my vest. I growl. I literally fucking growl. I have never heard such sound ever produce from my mouth but Natasha takes so much pride in it I must repay the favor. As my hands travels up the curve of her back I move to remove her shirt but the results are quite fascinating. The back of her shirt rips in half and I make a move to apologize but she pulls me back and shoves said garment off of her shoulders. Next thing to go is my shirt and once it is gone I shiver as the cold hits me but that is short lived when her nails rack down my bare back. I place my hands on her hips, trying to bring her impossibly closer to me. The heat radiating off her sparks a certain fire in me and when I try to pull away she bites my bottom lip. It sets me on edge. My hands begins to roam her body from her waist, up her sides, towards her neck where I tip her chin back for easier access towards her neck. My lips attack her neck with the determination to just please her and while my lips do that my hands begin to wander down the curvature of her bare back, the skin so smooth, and when I grab her ass she gasps slightly.
"Bedroom," She demands and I carry her towards her room, her lips and hands still roaming my body. She gives my lips a break and kisses down my column of my throat. Once I make it towards the door we have a standstill. It requires a keycard which she has in her pocket but her nails are racking down my chest and carving the dips and curves in my abdomen.
"Fuck this," I mutter before kicking down the door.
We make our way towards the bedroom where I sit on it bed only for her to push me down. She slides up slightly, adjusting her weight on me. We are too drunk with the feeling of each other, our skin contact, and I don't think I will be able to sober up. She bends down to kiss me all the while her hands are sliding down my neck, towards my chest, then my abs, then she reaches my belt buckle and my whole body tenses before flipping us both over, my mind switching to mission mode. This whole time, in and out, I was so focused on the situation that I didn't even think about the situation. I haven't had sex before and this is where I pause. I hover over her, hands on either side of her head, lips parted, chest heaving, eyes wide, never leaving her own.
I begin to shake my head slowly, trying to tell her implicitly that I can't do this. My eyes are filled so much doubt she would have to be blind not to see it. I try to get off of her but she tugs at my bicep and I look at her. She brings her hand up to my cheek and tugs at my lip.
"She was your first kiss…Let me be your first love," She says, her eyes flicking between my lips and my eyes. And for some reason I just can't deny her. I can't force myself to move away from her. It's like an invisible force that keeps me in her orbit. Slowly, she pulled me back down towards her and I end up back in between her legs. And like she promised, for six hours I totally forgot about reality.
. . . . .
The next day…
I had awaken and for the first time in many months I don't feel restless. I look around, lazily, my eyes adjusting to the brightness in the room. There is something on my lower abdomen. It's fleshy, soft, and warm. I look down to see a hand with red polished nails. The fingers are trailing absent-mindedly down my barely audible happy trail. I look over to see a pool of red, bed headed, curls. I can only see her bare back, her spine protruding. Not only that but I can see fading purple bruises. Shit, I sigh. I still need to learn to control my strength. I don't need to put as much effort as I used to. Quietly and softly sliding over towards her, I kiss the bridge between her neck and shoulder. She moves slightly but that is all the response I get.
Slowly I get out of bed as to not disturb her and pull on my black briefs and pants. I begin to walk around the apartment, my legs needing a stretch. I feel different, looser down there in my manhood. I try to pass it off as a morning wood thing. But soon after I realize and I almost smack myself in the face. Holy shit. Like seriously…Holy shit.
I just got deflowered.
I feel like a new man. Aw, man, when Bucky finds out he is going to freak and Jane might scold me. Darcy might say something like 'Atta boy'. Thor would pat me on the back so hard I would possibly fall. And the others would probably throw a party. Damn, I missed them. I might call them later today.
I look over at the clock.
7:30
The mission is later today so I could probably do something other than stand here like an idiot and think about the sexiest woman alive deflowering me. I shake my head and walk towards the door, intending to get some new clothes when something caught my eye. Two holes in the wall, my eyebrows furrow at the sight and I walk towards it, my hands tracing the holes.
I slammed her back against the wall, our bodies heavy with sweat. Her legs were wrapped around my waist and both of us were breathing heavily. Both of our eyes were closed, our foreheads together. The room was growing foggy with heat and our naked bodies were glistening with perspiration. She had one had on my shoulder, her teeth gritted, and her other hand gripping my hipbone. To my eyes she was gorgeous. My hands were on her hips but my grip was growing too tight and instead of her hips I placed my hands into the wall, the friction between us growing stronger. My lips parted to let out a slip of air. She was showing me these things that took me higher than a drug addict. And next thing I know my fist are baring into the wall when she does something with her hips.
The memory shot through me and I looked away, not necessarily ashamed but just trying to remember. But when I turn away I notice something else, a broken nightstand.
She was moaning my name, her hands roaming my chest to abs. Her nails scrapped down my back when I rolled my hips against her own. She bit my lip and both of our eyes met in a haze, the intensity of her gaze eliciting a slight growl from me. When her eyes meet my own I know she has something planned. She kisses me, lip, teeth, and tongue fight for dominance.
"Я хочу тебя," She mutters under her breath.
"Я уважением," I say back and she smiles, that bright, sexy, encouraging, sex-hazed smile. She wants me to go faster. She weaves her hands through her and brings her arms up like she was bound, giving her body to me. I stare at her, my more primal side coming out. Her bare, naked body, sits here before me and everything just becomes a blur. I have her against my body but as I try to get us on the bed I knock into it. I growl in her mouth before grabbing the nightstand and throwing against the wall before showing her how enhanced my stamina really is.
Well, damn.
I scratch the back of my head and continue to make my way towards the door only for me to find, yet again, another broken object. The door is practically busted in. I would've thought for a second someone busted in but the memory of me just wanting her so bad enough to break down the door washed over me. And I pause for a moment, looking back at the Goddess who lies in the sheets and the broken objects around the room.
…Was it really that good?
I walked towards the door which was tapped to the opening and when I went to open it, it collapsed and fell to the ground uselessly.
"Oh, not again!" Natasha's neighbors shouted and my eyebrows furrowed with confusion which prompts me to look at the front of the door which is plastered with posted notes and pieces of papers. Their words manly in German or Russian, barely any English.
Some say:
Next time you want to go screw each other go in the forest.
Give us a warning next time.
You motherfuckers, I swear if I hear that bed banging against my bedroom wall again I'm coming after you.
After you're done with her can you do me? You sound durable.
Fuck you, oh, never mind she already did that didn't she? I could tell.
I winced at the brutal comments and in the room adjacent to Natasha's an old lady came out, clothes in hand. She had ear plugs in and she was making her way to me. She handed me the clothes which reeked of sex and I recognized them to be our ripped clothing. The old lady then walked back into her own apartment.
"Danke," I said and she smiled with gratification.
I walk back into the apartment and place the door back in the doorway. I really hope they don't sue me for all this damage. I mean I didn't necessarily do this on purpose.
Well it wasn't necessarily an accident either.
I smile and shake my head. Asshole.
Eh, I am not an asshole. Just similar to one. By the way, we need to keep your body growing stronger than it is now. Grab an apple and hit the floor, 200 pullups and 250 sit-ups.
Fuck that. I wonder if they have a Dunkin Donuts or a McDonalds in Germany.
No, motherfucker, this is why I came. You can't eat all that when you got a workout like that. Fruit and vegetables and hit the floor. Alright?
Yes, sir, Mr. Asshole, sir.
That's the spirit.
. . . . .
Meanwhile, back in America…
"Maybe I should call him," Peggy mutters as she begins to pack for her trip with the rest of her team," You know? Check up on him."
"He's fine, Peg," Pepper said," He is probably killing Nazis as we speak."
"Tots," Bobbi agreed and flipped through her magazine.
"Yeah, Fury checked up on them earlier, they are fine," Maria confirmed, reassuring Peggy.
"Ok," Peggy sighed, somewhat still skeptical.
. . . . .
Back in Germany…
I was doing pullups like my dipshit second Super Soldier subconscious told me. I had gotten some shorts from my room to put on and a black tank top so I wouldn't be walking around naked, came back and checked on Natasha who was still asleep, got something to eat from the bar downstairs, and got to work. First it was just regular pullups then it turned into hardcore one handed pullups. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would to be honest. My body was working with me, easing my movements while also growing stronger. When you were me it was like your body and brain were two different things. Your body the weapon and the brain knew what to do to get the job done. But both worked together in sync. It was beautiful if you thought about it.
Besides my heavy breathing the only thing I could hear was Natasha's heartbeat. But that soon turned into the soft pitter-patter of her feet against the carpet. In the corner of my eye the only thing I can see her wearing are the torn sheets. Her bedhead makes her look natural and turns me on a little more than it should. Her green eyes aluminate against her pale skin as the morning light reflects across them. She stares at me for a minute, watching my muscles flex and my body move the way it does.
"Like what you see, gorgeous?" I breathe out, not stopping, switching from left hand to right hand. She laughs, red curls bouncing on her head as she does so. She walks towards the kitchen, gets something, and puts on a black lace bra and panties.
"You're working out after what happened last night?" She asks and as I go up and down on the bar her hands slip onto my chest, sliding down to my abs, her nails carving the indent of my muscles.
"I don't get tired," I say and something ignites in her wicked green eyes.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" She asks, her index finger trailing down my barely audible happy trail.
"I knew you deserved the extra sleep after last night," I huffed," By the way you're moving I would say you are still sore. And your accelerated heart rate and sore limbs tell me you are still tired but your aroma says you are willing to go one more round."
"Well you did give me quite the workout. I mean, I have never met anyone quite as big as you," She murmurs and my eyes darken involuntarily," I must admit, your endurance is…longer than I anticipated. After, practically, the umpteenth round I was a little tired but you? You looked like you were just beginning."
"Yeah?" I grunted. She nodded and grabbed onto the pull up bar. I raised my eyebrow before she wrapped her deliciously curvy legs around my waist and sat herself on me," Your neighbors thought the exact same thing."
She smiled and grounded her hips against my own," Well, you did kind of break half the apartment, Rogers."
"I did not," I state, hanging us both by one hand," Things just got out of hand."
"Really?" I could sense that questioning eyebrow. "You call that 'out of hand'?"
She motioned towards the broken headboard which had hand prints in it for days.
"Oh," I say and she smiles.
When I said it was my first time, I meant it. The experience of it was weird at first but I slightly got the hang of it. She had laid her perfect, naked body beneath mine. I was on top, questioning, doubtful looks crossing my face before guiding me to what I needed to do. I was holding on to her hips at first but she said 'No, no, no. You are not about break my hips during sex, grab the head board.' I didn't exactly know what she meant by that but when she showed me 'how to insert the pickle' I had accidentally crushed the headboard underneath my grip, the wood beginning to snap and crumble to pieces because holy shit that felt…Well shit.
"I didn't know you were the rough type," She says and kisses a trail down my neck," Everyone's first time is messy…Yours was just messier than normal. I can't say that I didn't enjoy it."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" I ask and pause my movements.
"Take it as one," She demands and begins to slip her cool hands underneath my tank top. I shiver at her cool hands. She traces the muscles that flex under her touch. Damn, I breathe. Her touch does something to me. Not only does it melt me like a block of ice but it brings me to my knees. I jump up and she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist tightly. I drop down from the pull up bar, grab her legs and support her against me.
"Give a girl a warning next time, Rogers," Natasha says.
"Like what? I am going down," I walk her towards the bed.
"You sure as hell did last night," She says and I laugh lightly before grabbing her and tossing her on the bed. Before she can make a move I climb on top of her, draping my lips on hers. She moans in my mouth and unlike last time I actually feel controlled. I slide my tongue against her lip before she allows me to enter. My hand slides down to her waist to pull her closer to me. She tugs my tank top off, throwing it half way across the room. Her hands and perfectly manicured nails begin to trace over my abdomen, outlining the muscle that seeks out her touch. She arches her back when I thread my fingers into her hair, pulling her impossibly closer to my lips. I drag my lips from hers to trail down the column of her neck, to her collarbone, biting and nipping, then I travel down to her cleavage, covering almost every inch of purple I left on her.
"You owe me…for all of these," She breathes out and motions towards the numerous hickeys.
"Don't worry, I am in the process of repaying my debt," I say between kisses as she runs her hand through my hair. I am kissing my way down her toned stomach when she stops me.
"Mission in twenty," She breathes out.
"…We could make it a quickie."
She slaps me on the ass before slipping away from me and towards the bathroom. I stare after her, hope in my eyes that she will turn around but the only thing that turns is the shower dial.
"Get your ass in here."
I had never run faster in my life.
A/C This wasn't how this chapter was supposed to end but this file was beginning to take up to much storage and I didn't want to deal with all that. I apologize for the wait and I hope this chapter is worth it. Thank you all for sticking with me. I don't feel strong about this chapter as I do the others but I hope it beats your expectations.
This is Part 1 of 2
So...Who do you think died? Jane? Darcy? Peggy? Bobbi? Maria? WHO?
Or...Could it be Natasha?