*Here's another chapter. Finally! I revised it ad nauseum, so I hope it was worth the wait! Scenes from Captain America: Winter Soldier with my slight changes to incorporate Melanie in. Nothing drastic. Also, I know I promised some Buckanie. I'm getting there! ;) That's all I'm saying. Enjoy!*
Traveling on foot without many opportunities to rest was exhausting, especially on an empty stomach. On the way out of the hospital, Steve suggested they should take a bus on route to the nearest shopping mall. Melanie could have kissed him, but figured that would just make things awkward.
The wait wasn't terribly long before a city bus arrived and the three allies boarded. It was relatively crowded but people were minding their business, most not even bothering to look up from the screens of their electronic devices. Spying an empty seat near the back, Melanie moved to claim in. Only a few paces behind, Steve paused to catch her eye. He was actually waiting for her permission to sit. His gentlemanly hesitation gave Natasha an opportunity to lithely slip past him. She sat right beside Melanie and folded her arms and legs firmly.
Somewhat annoyed, Steve gave her a critical look. Barely trying to hide her smirk, Natasha tilted her head and eyed him smugly, daring him to protest and make a scene. Tucked into the corner of the seat, Melanie didn't bother saying a word. She just shrugged her shoulder weakly when Steve looked at her. She didn't need him to babysit.
Ultimately, Steve gave up. With one last "you kids play nice" look, he turned and sought out a seat elsewhere. He ended up sitting close to the front, far enough where he wouldn't hear a word between them but no doubt would be watching to make sure they didn't kill each other.
As the bus pulled away from the hospital, Melanie sighed quietly and couldn't help sulking. None of this had been part of her plan. If it weren't for the Winter Soldier, she would have been out of the country by now.
"You don't look so hot," Natasha finally spoke, nothing about her tone suggesting hostility. But Melanie wasn't naïve; she knew the woman didn't really give a damn.
"Don't pretend to be my friend," she said. Her voice lacked venom; she was on the verge of an energy crisis. She needed something to eat, and a long sleep that wasn't induced by any drugs. Glancing over at Natasha, she added, "Just say whatever you need to say."
Natasha raised her eyebrows a bit, not offended but almost impressed. "Okay. Straight to the point. Last I heard you were under the radar; no leads, no bodies, nothing to go on. Now, here you are, with Steve."
Melanie rolled her eyes at the implication. "I'm not being paid to kill him. If that's what you mean."
Natasha glanced around and directed a look at Steve, before nodding slowly. "Okay," she said quietly, seeming to believe her if her expression was anything to go on. "Then tell me why you came out of hiding. S.H.I.E.L.D. has been compromised, Fury is dead," she paused after that last, as her indifferent mask cracked a bit. She blinked quickly, as if holding back tears. Clearing her throat lightly, she composed herself. "You didn't kill Fury. But you're involved. So tell me what you know, and I'll get off your back. Fair?"
"I didn't come out of hiding," Melanie corrected, digging her fingers into her arms as she folded them, containing her anger. "I was dragged out. You think I wanted to be caught up in this fucking mess? No. I wanted my freedom. That's too much to ask for, apparently."
Something she said made an impact on Natasha. Her neutral expression softened and she regarded Melanie sympathetically. She was silent for a moment, before furrowing her brows and looking hard at Melanie. "Dragged out by who?"
Melanie hesitated to answer, chewing the inside of her cheek as she warred with her conscience and her assassin instinct to protect her secrets. It was apparent she was the only one who knew Hydra was behind Fury's death. She should tell them, but then what? They would think she's a spy. There was no way they would trust her if they knew she had killed for Hydra. Eventually she would have to admit the whole truth, but for now, she would leave that part out.
"They called him the Asset," she began, suppressing a shudder at the thought of him. As she reflected back on the moment in the elevator, when he had that dead look in his eyes, a different feeling came over her. She felt sorry for him. How could she not have realized before? Hydra was brainwashing him.
Natasha was leaning closer, peering at her. Melanie glimpsed her own reflection on the glass of the window, her face had gone pale. "The Asset?" she repeated, trying to get her to continue.
Reigning herself in, Melanie wet her lips and explained, "He kidnapped me. Stuck me with a sedative. Then I woke up at the Triskelion. Pierce…he wanted me to kill Fury," she admitted, meeting Natasha's eyes. She saw it again; the sadness and anger over his death. "I refused. He had me locked up. Then I escaped and saw Steve. My memories are a bit…foggy. But I recognized him. So I followed him."
"Pierce ordered the hit on Fury?" Natasha asked in disbelief.
Melanie nodded, and closed her eyes for a moment while Natasha processed what she told her.
"They were friends…why would he?" Natasha muttered, shaking her head in disgust.
"Because he's a bastard," Melanie answered simply.
They were both quiet for a minute, exchanging glances as they reached a new understanding. Natasha seemed less suspicious of her, and Melanie let go of her previous hostility. It was a relief not to have to be on guard at all times, with two other people to watch her back.
"So," Natasha said with a little smirk. "You're all about the greater good now, huh?"
Thoughtfully, Melanie looked toward Steve. He was sitting between two elderly women, who were smitten by him. He wore glasses to make himself less recognizable as Captain America, but his good looks didn't help him be invisible. One of the ladies actually pinched his cheek, causing him to blush. He smiled while gently grasping her hand to remove it from his face, politely placing it onto the purse rested on her lap. Melanie bit her lip to hold back a laugh, shaking her head. Glancing over at Natasha, she replied, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"The first rule of being on the run: don't run, walk," Natasha advised. She strolled through the mall with the composure and confidence of an experienced fugitive. Steve, on the other hand, was noticeably anxious. The way he compulsively looked over his shoulder and surveyed his surroundings, it was like he expected to be ambushed at any second. All things considered, that was understandable.
"If I try to run in these shoes, they're gonna fall off," he joked.
Several paces behind, Melanie smirked but said nothing. Despite the heart-to-heart she had with Natasha on the bus, she couldn't stop thinking about what she said back at the hospital. Her targets were never selected by clients who paid her through the Contractor. They were all contacts, allies, and agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. that were threats to Hydra. Pierce pulled the strings, but she was the one who held the sword and she had been the one to clean the blood from the blade. A cynical voice in her head mocked her for trying to pretend to be a fighter for the greater good. There was a time she would have cut down both Steve and Natasha, if the Contractor handed her their pictures.
"Melanie?"
Hearing her name, Melanie looked up from the floor to see Steve approaching with a frown. She had fallen behind without realizing it. Her guilt weighed her down like an anchor. Rumlow was right. She was in over her head.
"You still with us?" Steve asked her with a troubled expression, as if he knew she was drowning but had to ask anyway.
"I'm still trying to figure out why you want me here at all," she admitted, eyes downcast. "You heard Natasha. I've killed people. Good people. The worst part is, I can't remember most of them..." she wanted to say more, to come clean, but she was on the verge of tears.
Steve mulled over her confession for a moment, then shrugged lightly as if it wasn't a big deal. "Well, I believe in second chances."
For a second, she wondered if he was being a smart ass, but there was nothing disingenuous or mocking about his demeanor. He smiled warmly, a comforting sort of smile that was heartfelt. He was being serious, but she couldn't help her dry laugh. "Oh, so this is an intervention?" she asked sarcastically, but she sensed it wasn't far from the truth.
Steve chuckled a little and shrugged again. "Yeah, I guess it is," he agreed, smiling, but for a fleeting moment that strange, faraway look clouded his eyes. No doubt, he was thinking about whatever happened between them decades ago, back in a time when she had been a completely different person. Or maybe she had been exactly the same.
It was odd the way he looked at her. Melanie couldn't understand how he was so quick to trust her, and he still hadn't really explained that. Sure, he was friendly and generous, but he wasn't daft or naïve. There was a motive for his eagerness to help her, something he was keeping to himself for whatever reason; likely because she had a lot of explaining to do, herself. It all came down to who spilled first, and Melanie kept all her secrets locked up tight. A skill that helped her as an assassin and allowed her to remain under the radar the past thirteen months, but it wasn't so good at helping her keep friends.
In any case, Steve knew they had no time to braid each other's hair and dish out the dirt. "Let's forget about that for now," he said, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. "I need you with me on this. Like you said. Too many enemies..."
When he trailed off, Melanie smiled and finished, "Not enough friends."
Eight minutes. They had eight minutes before the cavalry showed up. While Steve and Natasha attempted to access the files stored on the USB, Melanie resisted the urge to pace back and forth like a caged animal. Her guts were writhing like snakes and she felt almost nauseous as she resisted her instinct to run while she had time to spare. Nothing was physically stopping her, but she already made her choice to stick by Steve no matter what.
Wrapped up in her anxious thoughts, she barely heard the conversation going on until Steve said, "Wait. Go back."
He was leaning closer to the screen of the laptop with a disturbed, confused look on his face.
"You know it?" Natasha asked, speaking of the location shown on the map.
"I used to," he replied curtly, leaving out the details as their time was almost up. "Let's go. Melanie," he said over his shoulder as he and Natasha pulled away from the laptop. Natasha remembered to grab the USB before following Steve, with Melanie close at their heels. Her heart was pounding and she had to fight her irrational impulse to sprint for the exit. She knew running like that would only attract unwanted attention. Instead, she tugged the black hood up over her head and let her long raven hair partially curtain her face.
Reaching the escalator that lead down to the ground level, Natasha stepped on and was followed closely by Steve. Melanie would have been right behind Steve if she hadn't frozen on the platform. Her eyes widened as she spotted the pack prowling straight for the escalator parallel to them. Rumlow, flanked of course by two large men. Her mouth opened to shout, but she couldn't warn her friends without alerting Rumlow and giving them away. She could only watch helplessly, hoping they could somehow pass right under his nose without his notice. At the last minute, Natasha turned and kissed Steve on the lips. Astonishingly, it worked. Rumlow looked directly at them before quickly averting his eyes, smirking uncomfortably to himself. He hadn't recognized them!
Melanie had no time to celebrate, because she was stranded there in plain sight with Rumlow heading right toward her. Time seemed to slow as her brain went into survival mode, trying to formulate a plan. At the bottom, Steve had realized she fell behind. He turned and saw her standing there at the top, then his eyes shot toward Rumlow. His brow furrowed and he stepped toward the escalator, throwing caution to the wind as he planned to take on Rumlow to help Melanie. Before he could take another step, Natasha caught his arm and swiftly moved into his path, holding him back. She glanced over her shoulder to meet Melanie's eyes; even she looked conflicted over leaving her behind.
Yeah. I've definitely gone soft, she thought to herself. After the sleepless nights and months of being eaten alive by guilt, she prided herself on that fact.
Nodding to Natasha, she let her know it was alright for them to go. Steve refused to budge, though. He looked distraught and his eyes were pleading for her to reconsider her decision. He should know that she was too stubborn to be swayed, even if his puppy dog routine pulled at her heartstrings.
The moment Rumlow stepped off the escalator, Melanie pulled her hood back and revealed herself. He didn't spot her immediately. He looked to his right before finally turning his head in her direction, locking his eyes on to her as she stood only a few feet away. He raised his brows and laughed coldly, pleasantly surprised to see her; as smug as she remembered.
That smirk of his vanished real quick as she aimed her gun right at his chest. He held his hands out, as if to assure her he wasn't a threat when she knew exactly what he was capable of.
"Easy," he said coolly, smiling again, trying to reason with her. "We can still work things out. Help us take down Cap, and Romanoff, then you can keep your head straight. How does that sound?"
Eyes narrowed, Melanie met his bronze eyes and knew that he was making promises he couldn't keep. Even if he really would put in a good word with Pierce on her behalf, there was no way that snake would let her defiance go unpunished. And even if he was capable of swallowing his pride, Melanie wasn't about to betray the only person who believed she was good.
Bystanders ran screaming as she emptied her clip on Rumlow and the other two men. They all collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain, but there was no blood. As expected, they wore bullet proof vests to protect themselves. When the clip was empty, Melanie tossed the useless gun away and watched as Rumlow propped himself up on one elbow, clutching at his bruised chest. He grimaced in pain and turned a furious glare on her that promised a painful death.
Returning his glare with equal contempt, she raised both hands and flipped up her middle fingers. Then she took off running in the opposite direction of the escalators, heading for the other end of the mall and hoping that Steve and Natasha would leave while they could. She had already taken advantage of the chaos Steve caused while escaping the Triskelion. It was time she returned the favor.
A searing pain in her leg slowed her escape to a staggering halt as she fell to her hands and knees. Biting back a whimper, she shifted to sit on the floor and clutched her wounded leg. She hadn't heard the gunshot, too focused on running, but the bullet had buried itself in the back of her calf. The blood was barely visible as it seeped into her maroon sweatpants.
"Stay down!" Rumlow ordered harshly as he closed in, gun aimed to shoot her again if she disobeyed his warning. "You chose the wrong side, Mel. Don't say I never tried to be nice."
"Fuck you," she hissed through clenched teeth as she tried to put pressure on her wound. She could have put a bullet between his eyes if she wanted; now she was sort of regretting she hadn't.
"Where are they? Cap and Romanoff."
Melanie refused to answer, looking away. No matter what torture Hydra would subject her to for that information, she would never betray Steve.
"Where!" Rumlow demanded harshly, moving closer so the gun was only an inch from her forehead.
"They went to get Taco Bell," she told him with a smirk, unimpressed by his threat. So what if he shot her in the head? It beat the hell out of the alternative.
Shaking his head, Rumlow looked far from amused. He was running out of reasons not to shoot her in the face. "The truth. Spit it out, now. Or I'll just take you back to Pierce. Trust me, he's not the patient type like I am."
The thought of facing Pierce again chilled her blood. She knew what would happen; it was inevitable, even if she did cooperate and tell Rumlow where the other two were headed. After Pierce had the information he needed, he would have her mind wiped and—being the cruel, cold hearted bastard he was—he would probably have her kill Steve anyway. Melanie knew when she had been defeated, but she wouldn't beg. Not at the feet of Rumlow. Instead, she spat at his boots in pure defiance.
"Wrong answer," he said gruffly. Lowering his gun, he drew his fist back to punch her instead, but someone stepped up behind him to grab his arm. Before he could react, the good samaritan jabbed him in the ribs with a stun baton and the painful shock brought the man to his knees. He had dropped his gun when he collapsed; it landed close enough for Melanie to kick it away with her good leg. Disarmed but not quite defeated, Rumlow reached for the knife at his belt. Seeing this, the unlikely hero drove his elbow down hard on the sensitive area at the base of his neck and shoulder. It was enough to force Rumlow face down to the floor.
Groaning, he managed to push himself up enough to look over his shoulder at the man standing over him. "You," he said in disbelief, recognizing him as the man who had feigned cowardice when he bumped into him earlier.
Warren had a forest green knit cap on, but a few strands of curly auburn hair peeked out near his ears and the scarf he had been using to conceal his face had slipped down during their scuffle. He frowned as he looked down at Rumlow, troubled by something and not amused even a little despite what an ass Rumlow had been to him. He had nothing to say, so Melanie stole the opportunity to kick Rumlow in the head with her good leg. The blow knocked him out cold. With the leader of S.T.R.I.K.E. down, Warren tucked the stun baton back into his bag before bending down next to Melanie.
"How did you find me?" she asked while allowing him to sling her arm over his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her side and hauled her up, supporting most of her weight so she didn't have to put any pressure on her wounded leg. Most of the blood was being soaked up by the thick fabric of her sweatpants, but crimson droplets left a trail across the floor as Warren guided her toward the nearby elevator.
"I told you, I'm a hacker," he replied, his tone clipped and a lot less friendly than he had spoken back at the Triskelion. He was angry. "You know, when I said not to get involved with Captain America, I had a feeling you would do the opposite. Do you want to end up like Barnes?"
"Barnes?" she repeated, puzzled.
He shook his head. "Nevermind. My point is: I had to blow my cover. Do you know what I had to go through to keep a low profile in that place? I wasn't there because it's my dream to fetch coffee, file paperwork, and get pushed around," he told her irritably. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead stressfully with his free hand. "Now, that Rumlow guy knows I was a spy. It's all over. They'll be looking for me too. Who's going to stop Project insight now, huh?"
Pierce had told her about Project Insight. It was Hydra's plan to destroy all current government and bring about the new world order; achieving peace, by robbing everyone of their freedom. If Warren knew about that, then he was an impressive spy. They were both quiet as the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors opened. With Warren practically dragging her toward the nearest exit, Melanie tried her best to hop alongside him without knocking them both over. The adrenaline was wearing off and the sting of her wounded leg was becoming an intense ache like someone was branding her with white hot steel.
They made it across the lot to a car that must have belonged to Warren. No one had pursued them. Melanie leaned against the side of the car while Warren opened the rear passenger door. He helped her sit down before saying, "Hold on a second."
Moving quickly, he opened the trunk and retrieved a first aid kit. Returning, he knelt down and opened it. "This is just temporary, to stop the bleeding; no time to dig the bullet out," he explained, green eyes glancing around for any Hydra agents who might have spotted them before he got to work.
Melanie rolled over to lay on her stomach on the seat, so he could get a proper view of the injury. He still had an aggravated look on his face, but he was careful as he rolled up the leg of her sweatpants. Melanie hissed through her teeth and pressed her lips together as the fabric irritated the inflamed flesh around the wound. Warren kept undivided attention on what he was doing, unscrewing the bottle of disinfectant. He poured some on a wad of gauze, dabbing around the wound to clean away some of the blood, but it was still trickling down her leg.
"This might sting," he warned her before pouring some of the disinfectant on the wound.
Melanie might have accidentally kicked him in the face if he didn't hold her leg down. She bit her knuckles and squeezed her eyes shut. "Fucking hell," she hissed under her breath when the stinging subsided enough for it to bearable. When the worst part was over, Warren gently pressed the soaked gauze over it and began unrolling some to wrap around her leg.
Hoping conversation would distract her, she asked, "How long have you known?"
"About what? Hydra? Their plot for world domination?" Warren laughed bitterly, before ripping the gauze with his teeth. "That's old news. A better question would be how long did it take me to actually snag a job with S.H.I.E.L.D? That was the tricky part. They do their homework, but I do too. I could have snuggled up with Hydra directly, but that would mean getting my hands dirty."
"Like me, you mean," Melanie said quietly.
Warren paused to look at her. "No. They used you. Why do you think I got you out?"
"So that was just an impulse decision?"
He hesitated. "Not exactly."
Great; more secrets."What does that mean?"
Sighing, Warren began to wrap her leg. "None of this was supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to find you. Look, I'm sorry you had to get caught up in all this. Really…"
"Stop," Melanie told him sharply. "I'm not some poor innocent girl. So don't talk to me like I am. If anything, I made all of this possible. Just cut the bullshit and tell me why you even care what happens to me. And who the hell is Barnes?"
He finished wrapping her leg before leaning back on his heels, grabbing onto the open door for balance. "Everything will make sense once you get your memories back," he assured her.
Frustrated by all the mind games, Melanie asked, "How?"
Warren stood up with the first aid kit in his hands. "I was going to wait to give you this," he told her as he moved to the trunk again. He dug around for a moment before finding what he was looking for, closing the trunk and returning to stand near the open door.
"If you don't believe anyone else, at least you can trust your own word, right?" he asked with a little smile, eyes sparkling while he presented her with some kind of book.
Lifting a brow at him, she slowly reached out and grabbed the book. Studying it, she realized it wasn't a book at all; it was a journal. The old fashioned leather binding and lovely gold trimming, along with the worn but in-tact pages, told her it was certainly several decades old. Flipping the cover to see the inside, she observed the words, "Property of: Melanie Dampier."
