A/N: Oh my god, is it really? Yes, yes it is. It's Emily, back with an update (after a million years, tbh) of Inferno. Lately I've been in such a crossover mood for many reasons that you'll soon understand, and I finally couldn't stand the thought of letting this grow dust. It makes me too happy. So here I am, finally updating this little gift. And this time around I'm not going to be distracted, I'm going to stay true to what happened to the characters in Lights Out (reread that sucker a lot, yes I did) and make sure that they're going in the direction I first intended, not derailing like I did last time I wrote it just for the sake of an update, if that makes any sense at all. I totally get it if you have no idea what's going on right now, more of a reason to go back and read. Thank you for those of you who have stuck by this story even in it's unexpected hiatus, reviewing and favoriting and following, it just makes my heart swell. To see you guys didn't give up on it really gives me faith we'll see this through to the actual end! I hope that you enjoy this—I'm doing my best to make it worth that horribly long wait. ;)
Chapter Fourteen: Gilded
The entire ride back to the safe house, Katniss' lips were tingling. Or so they felt like they were, anyways; Steve's incredibly effective method of shutting her up had done more than that, it had stripped her from her voice completely. He still wasn't in any rush to resume conversation with her. If anything, their little fighting match in the convenience store had given him even more of a reason to ignore her very existence. Fortunately, this time around she was grateful for the silence, what with her ears ringing and her mind tangling herself up in thought.
It had been years since either of them had been in that close of proximity, save for the times they were attempting to kill the other, and it had brought an entire flood of feelings that she'd suppressed a long time ago crashing back to the surface. She hated Steve. That was what she knew, that was what was safest, that was what ensured the least amount of crushed feelings and didn't require effort. Sure, she had been warming up to his company thanks to the ridiculous contingency plan in place, but it hadn't changed her feelings on him any. It was easier if she was indifferent towards him; if she'd learned anything during her time living with Tony, it was that being alone took away the pressure of disappointing people or letting them down. Granted, she'd royally fucked up back at the Triskelion, but she didn't owe anything to Steve. At least, that's what she thought. Now that he'd gone and kissed her, she didn't know much of anything, except for the fact that she was confused.
Glancing over at him and seeing the stoic expression on his face, it was all too easy for Katniss to conclude that it didn't mean anything beyond an efficient tactic of getting her to quit causing a scene.
She had been eternally grateful when the truck began to stir up dust from the driveway that lead to the safe house, not realizing just how eager she was to get out of the truck and escape Steve's presence. The longer she sat within feet of him, the more twisting and turning her mind did around the kiss and Steve, and Katniss was suffocating underneath it all.
The minute he put the truck in park, she all but kicked the door open and sprang out of her seat, beelining towards the front door. Fresh air filling her lungs and the evening sun hitting her skin, Katniss was in no hurry to admire her surroundings. She wanted to get inside, hole up in her room and not emerge unless the house had caught fire.
Once inside, she slammed the door shut behind her casually, kicking her shoes off by the couch and starting the journey upstairs. She could feel the weariness coursing through her veins as she made her way up the stairs, especially in her legs. Running up and down several stories of stairwells, jumping from elevators at astronomical heights, and acting like the fugitive she felt like was enough to tire anyone, and the fact that her legs worked about as well as an elderly woman's only contributed to the steadily spreading soreness. Katniss felt like the Tin-Man walking up the stairs, moving rigidly and awkwardly up the stairs and praying to every god she could think of that Steve was still outside or far, far out of sight, unable to see this. She didn't need to appear helpless, or that she was in more and more pain with every step she climbed, legs locking up.
She'd never been so happy to see the twin-sized bed and flat bed-pillow on the other side of the door as she opened it, that joy fading almost instantly when her eyes fell upon the small box sitting on her bed. A variety of things rushed through her head, but the only thing that she could think of was that they'd been found. Paralyzed with fear, her mind went straight to worst case scenario. Inside that box had to be a bomb, or some sort of deadly weapon meant to kill her, courtesy of SHIELD and Pierce himself.
"St…S-Steve," she choked out, her mouth moving faster than her brain had time to catch up. She didn't want to call for Steve's help, truthfully, she didn't want his assistance or his opinion on the matter, but the mind her tongue had seemed to have drawn the conclusion that god forbid she not call for him and then blow the entire house up. Swallowing, she tried to call for him again, a little louder. "Steve…"
He was behind her in a few moments, peering over her shoulder. "What is it?" he inquired, a sharp edge in his voice. He didn't know why he was there, but judging by the way he spoke, he wasn't too keen on the idea itself. Katniss didn't reply, instead gestured in the direction of the box on her bed with the slight nod of her head.
Steve pushed past her, leaving Katniss standing in the doorway with her eyes trained steadily on the box. Panic was moving through her already rigid body, and it wasn't hard to fight the urge to push him out of the way, as she couldn't move at all. Instead, she watched on, holding her breath and hoping that her paranoia was all in her head.
It almost pained her to watch as Steve leant over the bed, examining the box. The scream building up in her throat met the knot that had been forming at the mere thought of SHIELD finding them, unable to find a way out as he picked it up. Well, at least it doesn't explode upon touch. He slowly lifted the lid off of the box, no explosions there either. Not wanting to move from her place by the door, she tried to look around him and see what he was looking at inside of it. "Well?" she asked tentatively.
Steve was still for a moment, adding more questions to her ever growing list, before turning around and thrusting the box into her hands as he stormed past. "Try not to need me," he grumbled underneath his breath. Confused, she twisted around only to see him disappear down the hall and down the stairs. Looks like we're back to the whole silent treatment thing, she thought.
Pushing the door shut behind her, Katniss padded across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. The small little box in her hands was lightweight, the lid thrown back on top of it in a lazy manner, courtesy of Steve. She gently pulled the top back off, setting it down beside her as she peered inside. It didn't appear to be much, just a folded up sheet of paper at the top. Katniss picked it up, placing the box in her lap as she unfolded the sheet of paper. An all too familiar chicken scratch glared back up at her, and the shaky exhale she finally let out sounded as though she was on the verge of a sob. One of her hands instinctively moved up to her mouth, fingers trembling over her lips as she read the note even amidst the shaking.
Kit-Kat,
First things first, if you tell anyone I call you Kit-Kat and they get the bright idea to do the same thing or worse, taunt me about it, I'll kill you.
I'm not sure what's happened with you since the house took a graceful dive into the Pacific Ocean; I mean, I've seen some news footage here and there saying you're missing and some reports saying you're dead–suppose we can thank Red Riding Hood for those attempts, she's good at what she does–but I don't really know what happened to you. I just want to make sure you're alright–or, well, just ask you via this letter. And not get a response. Shit, why do I even try…
Point is, I know you've probably heard all kinds of rumors about me (or not, maybe everyone's glad I vanished off the face of the earth) but I wanted to let you know that I'm alright. That sounded better. I've made headway in this Mandarin case—Natasha was right about it being a ploy, and please don't tell her I said she was right, she gets off on it—and I'm putting together the pieces of what's going on as best I can to figure out who's behind it. Pierce is at the top of my list, but I'm rounding all my bases before I go there. I'm not in any one place, I'm trying to keep on the move so these SHIELD goons can't pinpoint me. I've been in Tennessee for the past few days (and no, Cinderella's magical little singing birds didn't bring this up to your bedroom, I had an old friend do it for me but don't worry, they're long gone by now and have no plan to report your whereabouts, I don't have a death wish for the Flaming Chariot to slit my throat) and I'll probably be on the move again once I know you got this. Just in case, you know, this is Alexander Pierce reading it. In which case, I'm actually dead at the bottom of the ocean.
I don't know what you and ol' Stars 'n Stripes are up to; probably nothing because you're too busy despising him or vice versa, but seriously, Katniss, he's trying. He's doing what the rest of us can't and keeping you safe–and don't roll your eyes, saying you don't need protection or work better alone. Everyone needs someone, Katniss, including you. And as much as you hate to admit it, right now he's the only someone you've got. He cares about you a lot, baby bird, whether you see it or not. Not sure in what context, but I pay attention to the two of you, and he cares more about you than any of us. And for the love of god, don't let Clint read that. He'd kill me with a spoon.
Bottom line is, please be careful. I know you hear it a million times from everyone's favorite assassins–trust no one, look ways before you cross the street, but they're right. We've got targets on our backs and I just…you know, can't lose you. One of the two things I've ever cared about in this world, and I'd like to keep you and Pep both alive. So do me a favor, listen to Steve even if it pains you, and stay alive. I'll come find you soon, I promise. Just remember who you're fighting. And Katniss, your contingency plan isn't named Inferno because it's a cute name that Pierce can't crack. It's Inferno because you are.
—Tony
PS: Try using your peripheral vision and focus on what you see next time you have an anxiety attack. You're a hunter, I read some stuff and I figured you'd know about that. That might help. Also, Trazodone.
PPS: You left these on the coffee table.
Glancing back down in the box with the tears blurring her vision, she noticed that it hadn't been just the note. She reached inside, pulling out the small little notebook that she recognized almost immediately–it was her adjustment notebook. She'd started it shortly after moving in with Tony and he realized just how culturally deprived she was, only to be met with laughter from Bruce, who had experienced her lack of such firsthand. Every time there was something she didn't quite understand or someone gave her a reference, she would jot it down in her little notebook, making it a habit to look it up on her own time or venture on with Pepper's assistance. Eventually, the list had grown to the point where there were more entries than neatly crossed out lines. It grew legs on its own and had run far away from Katniss; she tried to do them, really, but by now it was too complicate it to reign it in.
She caught sight of something glinting in the light, a small silver chain peeking out from the corner of the box. It looked as though it was tucked under the bottom—or rather, the fake bottom, and she set her notebook on the side of the bed, no longer interested in it. Taking her fingernail, she moved it against the edges of the inside of the box and finally snagged a part where the sealing no longer stuck, where she could grab the fake bottom and peel it back. Lying at the real bottom was a necklace she couldn't remember when she'd worn in the past year. For the most part, she kept it in her pocket or close to her, but didn't wear it.
A small smile spread over her face as she thought about the day Natasha had given it to her, how it had been awkward all around because sentiment wasn't exactly her mother's forte but how the gesture had spoken volumes. She'd never seen Natasha so frantic and nervous to get something right, like she'd wanted for it to be perfect, and if she thought something wasn't perfect about it, she was scrambling to back track and make it that way. With steady fingers, she opened the locket slowly.
That's when she realized the photos had changed.
When she'd been given the necklace, Natasha had only put a photo of an arrow and the red hour glass that matched her belt buckle, to symbolize both her and Clint. All three panels were filled this time around; a photo of Clint and Natasha in one panel, looking more…jovial than she'd ever seen them, the both of them beaming at the other so hard that she felt the lump begin to reform in her throat, swallowing hard. The far right panel held a picture of Tony, Pepper, Bruce, and Katniss that had been taken during one of Tony's godforsaken family game nights, all of them lying on the couch and scrunched up together, appearing to be more like best friends than anything. And then, in the middle panel that had never been filled prior, was a photo of Katniss and Steve, back when they'd actually been able to tolerate one another and more, all of Steve's usually stiff mannerisms melted away as he draped one arm over her shoulder and kissed her cheek, Katniss blushing. She blinked a few times, the knot in her throat so large she felt as though she couldn't speak even if she'd been able to find words.
Katniss flashed back to what Natasha had said that day when she'd given her the necklace. I'm sorry it's not actual pictures of us, it's just not safe. Did it mean that she was finally safe? Or did it mean that things were so beyond hopeless that it no longer mattered?
She didn't know.
. . .
It had been a peaceful day.
Katniss had gotten Steve's message of not being bothered with her, so she was left to do whatever she wanted. Most of the day she'd spent down by the lake, walking around, sitting on the dock and letting her feet brush over the top of the water, watching it ripple around any small movement. Living in New York for so long meant she hadn't been this close to actual nature, and not just what Central Park had to offer. It was the type of solace she'd been accustomed to when she'd lived in Twelve, the serenity of the woods and no distraction or civilization for miles. Sitting there in the silence would have usually meant her mind would be racing faster than she could keep up, but there was just a certain peace that fell over her. She wasn't worrying, or panicking, or stressing, like she had been for god only knew how long. Instead, it was just her, the lake, and silence.
Steve had come to retrieve her for dinner, the trek back up to the house seeming more and more like a hike the way her legs were working. She didn't understand how all of a sudden they had been working fine, and now she could barely stay on them for too long without feeling like someone had replaced her legs with those of a robot. Steve had shown a little compassion when he noticed, slowing down and waiting on her, and he kept glancing back over his shoulder to make sure she was still standing. It never took long for Steve to thaw out in a fight, but she'd fucked him over just as much as she had everyone else.
Dinner was a silent affair; nothing grand on the table in front of them, just sandwiches, something the two of them could manage without having to communicate or would result in them burning the house to the ground. Nothing to talk about either, unless of course they had the strong urge to discuss what had happened at the Triskelion, which would eventually rabbit hole down into almost two years of stacked up problems. Frankly, Katniss was too tired to open that many wounds and so she resorted to quietly chewing away at what had to be the worst sandwich she'd ever eaten, and she'd eaten food cooked by Tony Stark before.
Katniss was perfectly content on the couch, reading through a book she'd found one on of the shelves. It wasn't the most interesting thing she'd ever read, but she'd yet to see a television and at least with reading, she was occupied. There was no way she was going to get away with sneaking back outside, it was dark and she knew that with her legs being more irritating than usual, it probably wasn't the wisest decision. She'd resigned herself to a night on the couch, until Steve came whirling through.
"Come on," Steve said, voice clipped as he brushed past her. Katniss' train of sight followed him, twisting around to watch him storm towards the door.
"Where are we going?" she asked carefully.
Slipping his jacket on, Steve went about adjusting the collar as he spoke. "We're going to where the tracer found a hit; Natasha's coordinates have it rounding off about a half hour from here and I have a good idea of where we're going."
Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, slowly rising from her place on the couch. She glanced over at the analog clock sitting on the night table, frowning. "It's almost eight," she pointed out, gesturing in the direction of the clock. Her face then twisted into a grimace, eyebrows falling. "Isn't that your bedtime?"
If looks could have killed, Steve would have seriously injured Katniss with the steely glare he sent in her direction. "Sitting and waiting around isn't up to your speed, or so I've learned."
It was near impossible for Katniss to fight the scowl forming on her face as she moved around the couch and falling in line behind Steve. I invented this game, Steve, she thought bitterly as she pulled the grey jacket hanging on the hook around her, flipping her hair out of the collar. I'll beat you ten times out of ten at it, too.
Another silent car ride followed; of course, Katniss didn't expect any sort of conversation between them. There wasn't much to say—well, there was, but if she'd thought dinner was a bad time to talk, this was even worse. She stayed low in the seat of the truck, curling into the jacket since clearly Steve enjoyed frigid temperatures. Maybe being on ice for seventy years had done a lot more for him than he knew, both physically and personality wise.
The truck stopped somewhere in between the endless expanses of highway and expanses of trees, leading them to what closely resembled an abandoned camp. She climbed out of the truck first, eager for the fresh air and to stretch her legs. "This is it?" she asked, hearing his door shut and the sound of his feet walking around to the front of the vehicle.
He was looking around, taking it all in. She could see it, registering there in his head just by his expression. "These were the coordinates that the file came from," he explained, pausing for a second. "So did I."
Katniss didn't question it; if she knew Steve as well as she thought she did, he'd explain himself in time. She kept her mouth shut as the two of them found a way past the fence and inside the camp, the sun already disappearing behind the clouds and the sky a shade of navy. Steve handed her his phone, where the trace signal had been recorded and gave her the task of trying to pinpoint a match while he looked for anything he deemed suspicious. It was clear in her mind who had the real job, and who was taking a stroll down memory lane, but she didn't comment on it.
It was a little while before Katniss spoke back up, her pacing around near a building with the phone held up over her head in hopes she'd catch something. "You said you know this place?" she implored, glancing over at Steve. His eyes were elsewhere, looking around at the changes time had made to the base.
"Yeah, this camp was where I was trained." Katniss remembered some of the stories that Steve had told her about before, before everything—the serum, all of it, and how he'd come to boot camp and been the scrawniest living thing for a ten mile radius. She knew that this was where it had started for him, or at least, where it had all changed.
She gave him a soft smile. "Changed much?"
Steve stared straight ahead, most of his back to her. "A little."
She didn't want to push any further, so she continued to pace around, waving the phone around in any direction she possibly could and pray that something would come up. It had all proved to be a dead end, another wild goose chase orchestrated by none other than Alexander Pierce. Mentally, she shuddered at the thought. Pierce had been so far in the back of her mind that she'd almost forgotten about the reality of the situation, but isolation did that. God, she thought to herself, teeth gritting down. Glad I'm over being an absolute idiot; maybe some good came out of the rug being swept out from underneath all of us.
"This is a dead end," she finally huffed, letting her arm drop to her side. "There's absolutely nothing here. It's a graveyard; no kind of heat signature, no kind of communication leaving this place—my guess is it left when the troops did." Steve turned back around to face her, looking slightly discouraged. They'd come all this way for nothing. She sighed. "My guess is the person who wrote that file just threw in these coordinates to throw whoever saw it off."
Katniss had fallen quiet for only a few moments before realizing that Steve's attention was elsewhere, studying one of the buildings ahead of them. She took a few steps forward, taking a quick glimpse at the building before looking back at Steve. "What is it?"
"Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards from the barracks," he muttered, rambling off the fact like it was the weather report. One of Katniss' eyebrows arched in response. "This building is in the wrong place."
She blinked a few times, no responses formulating. "Come on," he said, stalking off in the direction of the building, Katniss right on his heels. They made their way to the door, which had a massive lock on it. She got the feeling that whatever was inside that building, someone really wanted others to get the message to keep out.
"Here, stand back," Steve interrupted her train of thoughts, pushing her back a little bit before pulling the shield off of his back. She hadn't even realized how close to him she'd been standing, staring down at her feet as Steve took the shield and rammed it into the lock. It snapped right open, falling to the ground with a dull clank.
"Don't suppose you'd remember the army's regulations for where they keep the light switches," she mumbled as she walked inside the building first, the darkness blinding. Hell, the lights hadn't been used in years and there was no telling if they would even turn on if they found them. Apparently, Steve still knew his way around, because no sooner had she started blindly tiptoeing through the darkness did a wash of light flood the room,
The giant SHIELD emblem on the far wall told them exactly where they were. They were both looking around the room, trying to figure out what this base had been used for; if it was just there to be a secret location, or if it was more than that. "This is where SHIELD started?" Katniss breathed out, walking along a wall with several framed photos hung.
"Maybe."
She recognized Howard Stark's portrait, mainly because Tony resembled him so much. She didn't recognize the two other faces, one a man and the other a woman. "Were these your friends?" she asked softly, but Steve made no show of acting like he'd heard her.
Instead, he walked down the length of a room where a giant bookshelf stood, Steve studying it for a moment. "Tell me, if you're already working in a secret office…" he trailed off. Katniss took a step forward, watching as he leaned forward and pushed the bookshelf out of the way. To her surprise, there was another door, one that looked like it led to an elevator. Steve really did know the ins and outs of this place.
"Why do you need to hide an elevator?"
They boarded it without asking the other if it seemed like a good idea, they'd come too far for some sort of answer and Katniss knew she wasn't about to turn around and leave if they were on the verge of something, Steve probably right along there with her for once. The ride down to wherever was quiet, the air awkward around the two of them. When the doors peeled back, it revealed a room filled with computers, ancient computers. Katniss knew that for most her life she'd been completely out of touch with technology and walking into a world where Tony Stark existed and was family had been a culture shock, but so was this. The equipment was outdated, and she didn't even realize she'd verbalized her thoughts until she caught Steve giving her a puzzled look. "What?" she protested. "Modern SHIELD data, old, old computers. Something doesn't add up, don't you think?"
"Katniss, it's a miracle I can even use my phone, but I have one."
She tilted her head to the side in contemplation, one of her shoulders rising and falling in a half-hearted shrug. Eyes scanning over the room, she began to walk along the desk where most of the monitors sat. A fine layer of dust had covered over them, running her fingers tracing over some of the equipment to see if she could find anything. Her hand bumped into a small little box, and when she looked down, she saw what looked like a flash drive port. Running her fingers over the small openings, she called over her shoulder, "Hey Steve, you still have that flash drive? Let me see it."
Steve was behind her in a few seconds, extending the flash drive out in her direction. She took it from him, going on her whim and plugging it into the port. All of a sudden, the computers around them lurched to life. Both of them took a few steps back, one of the monitors prompting the question, INITIATE SYSTEM?
Katniss and Steve exchanged looks for a moment, before Katniss stepped forward and leant down to where the keyboard was. "Y-E-S spells yes," she mused to herself.
It was silent for a moment; Katniss backing up to where Steve was as they watched one of the systems start to turn itself on. The image on the screen went from black to a sort of grainy image, like it was scanning the face of someone but didn't quite capture all the features, leaving the outline of prominent features in green. "Rogers, Steven," a heavily accented voice rang out into the room, startling Katniss. "Born 1918."
A camera that neither of them had taken into account turned, as if it were observing the two of them. It stopped when it had landed on Katniss, doing a quick analysis over her, she suspected. "Romanoff-Barton, Katniss Delia. Born 1995."
Katniss stared at the camera, glancing back over at the computer screen. "It's…some kind of recording," she observed.
"I am not a recording, Fräulein," the voice snapped. "I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am very much alive." A picture then appeared on the screen where the 'face' had been, a black-and-white, poor quality photo of a short man with thick-lens glasses standing next to a filing cabinet.
Her head snapped over in Steve's direction, to see that he was staring at it just as confoundedly as she had. "Wait, you know this thing?" she asked.
"Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull," he explained, almost hollowly. "He's been dead for years."
The picture disappeared on the screen as the voice started talking yet again. "First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive." The look on Steve's face was a combination of many things, Katniss had just yet to pinpoint which emotion was currently the most prominent as Zola continued telling his story. "In 1972, I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, my mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain."
Katniss' eyes swept over the room, tailing in a small circle. "How did you get here?" Steve said, his voice sharp.
"Invited," Zola replied smugly. "Operation Paperclip after World War II, SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic values. They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own."
"HYDRA died with the Red Skull," Steve insisted, and Katniss wasn't sure who he was trying to convince with that statement. She also wasn't sure what he meant by HYDRA; he'd briefly talked about who and what he'd fought during the war, but he had never gone into detail. She'd never pried either; she had been grateful he'd shared what he had. The name was familiar, but she hadn't exactly had a history lesson on what HYDRA really was.
Zola's response came in the form of a sneer. "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place."
"Prove it."
"Accessing archive." On another one of the monitors, pictures and footage of whom Katniss assumed was the Red Skull and HYDRA itself from during the war flashed across the screen, while Zola talked. "HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed."
Katniss shook her head in disbelief. "That's…impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you. Someone would have." She felt just as desperate as she sounded.
"Accidents will happen." Zola's voice was cold, as pictures of news headlines began to appear on the monitor of the car crash that had killed Tony's parents, revealing that it hadn't been a car, but HYDRA. Katniss felt her blood simmer inside her veins, fists clenching by her sides. Sometimes, when she and Tony both couldn't sleep, he'd tell her stories from his childhood, talk about what he'd gone through, and she'd do the same. It was why she and Tony were so close, because they'd shared so much with each other, and to know that he'd spent nights so choked up and angry as he tried to retell the stories of what life was like after the car accident were all based on a false foundation infuriated her. Fury's picture appeared on the screen, with a giant 'deceased' sign next to it.
"You…you…" Katniss stammered out, unable to formulate any other coherent thoughts she was so enraged. Zola steamrolled right over her with his talking, something that was really starting to get on her nerves.
"HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your life: a zero sum."
Steve had turned his back to the computer, but it was like something had snapped inside of him. His fist collided with the computer screen, it shattering underneath the force. Katniss stared at him, eyes wide. He was breathing heavy—still obviously angry but had found some relief knowing Zola was silenced, as had Katniss.
And right when they thought the storm was over, Zola appeared on the adjacent monitor. Katniss rolled her eyes, one of her balled up fists itching to pull the same move Steve had. "As I was saying..." he drawled out, but Katniss wasn't hearing anything else he had to say.
"What's on this drive?" she demanded.
"Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm," Zola explained nonchalantly.
"Algorithm? What kind of algorithm, what does it do?"
Zola gave a small laugh. "The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it."
Katniss and Steve's eyes met the moment he said it, both of their eyes wide with horror. From behind them, the door they'd come in had started to close, and as if it were an instinct, Steve's arm snapped and the shield went flying. His phone was still in her jacket pocket and began to beep like crazy, Katniss fumbling to pull it out. The sound of the shield ricocheting off the walls was discouraging, but she didn't have time to see what she already knew was happening. Her eyes flitted over the details, calling out to him, "Steve, I got a missile coming in, says it's short-range ballistic. Thirty seconds, tops." She glanced back up, to see his eyes trained on her, wild.
"Who fired it?"
She took a shaky breath. "SHIELD."
Zola, being the persistent bastard, spoke back up. "I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain." Katniss looked around frantically, grabbing the drive and yanking it out of the port before shoving it in her pocket. The missile was so close that she could hear it approaching; they only had seconds before it hit.
"Steve!"
He had noticed a small opening there in the ground, and he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. She followed in compliance, Steve throwing the metal grate aside to make way for them. Zola was still behind them, rambling on, almost inaudible as the missile was right on top of them. "Admit it, it's better this way. We're both of us...out of time."
Steve grabbed Katniss by the waist, hoisting the shield over both their heads and jumping down with her inside the small opening right as the building exploded. It was deafening, so forceful that it shook the very bones inside her body as she landed roughly inside the bottom of the hole. Steve was right on top of her, holding the shield above her, and she instinctively tucked into him. She felt like she could hear him calling out her name, but she wasn't sure. Smoke was filling their small little cove, filling her lungs, and the heat was intense. Ears ringing, she wasn't able to distinguish this from reality.
And then, black.
A/N: Ah, what wonders this chapter was. I'd say we're about halfway through the story at this point; there is so much that's yet to happen not just in terms of both Iron Man 3 and Winter Soldier plot lines but as well with Katniss and her whole integration to the world. Next chapter should pick up in an interesting place, which none of you will be expecting, so I guess you could say that, in a way, I'm leaving you on a cliffhanger, since you have no idea what's to come. I missed writing Clint and Natasha so much this chapter, but I hope that little Tony letter made up for it, definitely one of the most fun parts to write. And her legs acting up again, wonder if they're getting worse...wink. Anyways, please, if you read this, type up a real quick review for me on your way out? It would mean the world to me; now that summer is here my schedule is freed up (which I think is what this story really needed, it's why I got through Lights Out, because I was able to update almost every other day) and I have nothing else to do on my hands but just write away...OH! ALSO! If you go to my YouTube, which, my username is ScarlettLetters, I uploaded a fanvideo for Steveniss to my all time otp pain song, so if you need a little something to tide you over, there's that. ;)