Chapter 28: Little

October 18, 2014

In all their years together, Winter and Summer had assassinated presidents, liberated mob bosses from prison, and launched full on assaults on small governments. But nothing, nothing, compared to wrangling unruly, scared children through the streets of Thessaloniki.

Winter thought that it would be better for them to split up; it would be easier for each of them to protect a few kids, rather than all of them trying to move as one big group. But Cero didn't trust them with the kids, and they didn't trust her not to betray them around the next corner, so they were stuck trying to direct them to whatever safe place she had lined up. Cero led the pack, encouraging the kids in Greek and repeatedly turning back to count them and make sure they were all there. Summer quickly picked up the words she was saying, parroting them so that the children would trust her too. Winter brought up the rear, sweeping the area with sharp eyes and waiting for the enemies to find them. He could feel the hum just under the surface, another sense that told him that they were being pursued, and that the enemies were coming quick. It was one thing to protect Summer - it was another to protect all these little ones.

Seeing the kids brought up emotions (both positive and negative) in them that they couldn't name, so instead they just focused on the mission and planned to sort through the feelings afterwards. Feelings had no place in missions. Feelings is what got you shot. That was a lesson that Summer had been very acutely reminded of that evening. She could feel her body knitting together the bullet wound in her side, but much of its attention was going towards keeping her legs moving and her eyes on the targets. The kids were huddled close to one another and close to her and Cero, and somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered if she was accidentally getting blood on any of them. At first her hand had been slick on her rifle, but now the blood was starting to dry, making her grip sticky and her skin feel tight. Blood did not bother her. But altered sensation in one of her more important appendages did.

"Incoming." Winter said harshly in Russian. The mission had pushed him back to how he used to be, less man and more machine. Cero kicked down a doorway and ushered the kids through while Summer whirled around, her sight already at her eye as she took in the situation. Men in black spilled out from a dark building, red lights flicking across the street as they aimed in their direction. Winter readied his stance, bringing his gun to his eye and preparing for the onslaught. There were too many gunmen, too many enemies to take out at once. Summer grabbed him by the back of his shirt, throwing him behind a dumpster and diving behind it herself as their combatants opened fire. A ricochet caught her in the leg, making her grunt and grit her teeth as she gained another bullet wound. But at least Winter was safe.

"Stupid." she said to him. Before, she would have kept that to herself. The men at Hydra made it clear that he was the one in charge; Winter made it clear that they were equals. He gave her a harsh glare that said he was missing the times he was the primary, cocking his gun and readying himself.

"I'm faster." he replied. If they weren't in the middle of a mission, she would roll her eyes. Instead she just glared back.

"You're not bulletproof." she said. She had a feeling she'd said the same thing to him before. The gunshots stopped, and they heard the men discussing in Greek. Boots moved on the ground and guns clicked as they repositioned, giving away exactly where they were. Behind them it was quiet, so they assumed Cero had gotten the children to safety. "Give me a hand."

His glare intensified. "I hate when you say that." he muttered, but switched his gun to his right hand. The left one he held up above the dumpster, fingers held just right so that bullets couldn't pass through. Summer rested the barrel of her rifle on the edge of the dumpster, right under his hand, and started returning the fire with his palm shielding her face. The metal plates clicked into place as he held the position, leaning to the right himself so that he could shoot from the side. The men sent fire back towards them, but every shot hit either the metal of the dumpster or the metal of Winter's hand, perfectly positioned to protect her. It was like shooting fish in a barrel after that - the men had neither the protective mechanisms nor the training that they did, and one by one they met their deaths.

The steady quiet of victory settled in, but Summer and Winter didn't have time to bask in it. "All clear?" Cero's voice came from behind them, startling them and leading to two guns pointed at her. Out of habit, she raised a pistol back towards them, though no one had any intention of shooting. "Is it all clear?" she asked again, this time a bit more insistantly.

Summer lowered her weapon, and after a moment Winter followed her lead. Only then did Cero drop hers, her eyes still looking earnest. "Clear." Winter said lowly, his metal arm clicking quietly as he adjusted his grip. Cero nodded, gesturing to the kids in the room to get them to follow her again. They must have had a conversation because now they were remarkably quiet despite their age. The youngest appeared to be about four years old, and the oldest boy, who was likely around ten, carried her most of the time so that she wouldn't get lost in the fray. Cero didn't hesitate, taking off down the street again and assuming the rest would follow. She took them a roundabout way back to where she'd set up her remote gun, her gaze never once wavering from the road in front of her. She placed a lot of trust in them to watch her six, and they didn't know if that was a good thing or a mistake.

Something changed in the way she moved when they turned onto a different street, and Summer knew that meant they were in the home stretch. It also meant that they were at their most vulnerable. She glanced back at Winter, and he held two fingers towards his eyes before sweeping them to the area around them. Watch. She had been about to make the same sign to him, but he'd beat her to it. She nodded, subconsciously moving towards the right, to Winter's weak side.

Headlights suddenly flooded the area in front of them, making their shadows long and menacing in the night. Cero's face, pale in the bright light, went through a series of emotions before settling on one: resolution. The truck rumbled to life, but because the lights were so bright, they couldn't tell its exact size. All they could tell was that it was big. They didn't know if it carried men or guns or explosives, but regardless, it was coming for them.

"Go! We'll take care of this." Summer called over her shoulder, once again moving to Winter's right. Cero thought about protesting for a moment, but seeing the shadowy faces of the scared and confused children led her to only nod before taking off again. Gears groaned as the truck shifted, the engine kicking once before it started moving.

"We don't know what's there." Winter murmured, reaching into his pocket to pull out their last magnetic grenade.

"Do we ever?" she replied. He tilted his head to the side slightly, acknowledging the comment. Sometimes Hydra gave them all the information they needed, and sometimes they were sent in blind. It never ended up mattering.

"We don't know where they're going." he said, pulling the pin and launching the grenade at the space between the two headlights. Over the sound of the engine they could hear the squeaks of windows being rolled down, and the clicking of guns getting ready.

"I'm a good tracker." she said, casually stepping away from him and into the darkness. For a brief moment the lights shone on the distant line of children running, Cero a dark shadow at the front of them. Then fire took the place of the headlights as the engine block exploded, launching the truck up and over onto its back. There was a brief rain of bullets as panicked fingers squeezed triggers, but none of them reached their mark. The truck landed with lightning and thunder; this time there was no silence after the battle, instead there was a soundtrack of fire and melting metal.

Doors whined as someone pushed them open, trying to escape the wreckage. Whether or not they were planning to go forward with their mission didn't matter - one by one they got picked off by Winter and Summer, hiding in the dark wings and aiming at the exposure of neck just below the helmets. When soldiers stopped exiting the back of the truck, Winter holstered his weapon and pulled out a hunting knife, going and swinging into the back despite the fire and potential enemies. Summer kept her eye on the exit, the area between her shoulder blades tense as she heard the sounds of fighting and shots. But those soon stopped too, and she held her breath until a man jumped from the wreck, his metal arm glinting in the firelight. She felt herself sag, just slightly, in relief, getting up from her spot and going to meet him. The corner of his mouth was barely lifted in a grin, telling her that he'd seen her reaction.

"Worried about me?" he asked with just the slightest inflection in his voice. She gave him an unamused glance before walking in the direction Cero had taken the kids earlier.

"Worried I was going to have to save your ass." she said, her voice actually holding a bit of the bite that it used to. But the tone did not frighten him. In fact, it made him give her almost a real smile. "Let's go." she growled, infuriated by his mirth. He jogged to catch up to her then matched her pace, following her lead as she found the trail Cero took.

She'd moved remarkably fast for someone wrangling children. They tracked her through the town, past the point where she'd set up her gun (which was gone), and into the outskirts. The trail went cold at the end of a street, leaving Winter and Summer standing there wondering how in the hell they got cheated.

"You two are kinda slow, you know that?" a voice came from behind them. Once again, they raised weapons at Cero, but this time she didn't bother holding her own against them. She stood with her arms crossed and her weight on one hip, not caring that she was almost shot.

"We got a little caught up." Winter said through gritted teeth. Ungrateful was the word that came to mind. It was something that the scientists had said about them a lot, and it never felt right to him. Now he understood why. Almost as if she could read his mind, Cero's face softened, her arms dropping to her sides.

"Right. Thank you. For back there." she said, gesturing towards the town. They could hear sirens now in the distance going towards the fire, a billow of smoke making a dark smudge on the horizon. "Come on, safehouse is this way."

They glanced at each other before hesitantly following. She showed them to the back of an abandoned house, but they didn't go inside. Instead, she pulled what looked like an attached portion of the wall away from the house, revealing a narrow staircase into the ground. She moved confidently for someone who wasn't enhanced, steadily moving down into the basement. "I had this built over the past six months. It blocks any form of recon, has protective measures set up for the surrounding twenty kilometers, and a spare exit - oh, and I have three backup locations if we need to run."

"Impressive." Summer said. Cero wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or sincere, but decided on the latter, if only to help maintain her ego. The narrow staircase opened into a wide basement, dimly lit from small lights around the edges. The children sat huddled in one corner, the older ones trying to be brave and the others too young to know they were supposed to be scared. Cero had a whole stash of food and water piled up, and had been in the middle of handing it out when they arrived.

"Here, you finish this." she said, handing a crate of food to Winter. She looked to Summer and nodded towards another corner of the room, partitioned with a curtain. "Let's get your bullet wound patched up."

"I can tend to myself." Summer said. Winter looked as startled as she felt, eyeing all the kids as they came up to him. It took him a moment before he reached into the box, giving the food to eager hands.

"Yea? How're you gonna stitch up the exit wound?" she asked, actually putting her hands on Summer's shoulders and attempting to turn her. Summer, of course, did not move. Cero gave her an unamused look. "Dude. Come on, you took the bullet for me. Just let me stitch it up for you."

"You what?" Winter asked quietly, turning away from the kids to look at Summer. Summer allowed herself to turn then, following Cero's lead.

"Let's go." she said, as if the curtain would protect her from the glare that Winter was directing at the back of her head. They ducked behind the curtain and Summer pulled off her vest and her shirt, ignoring the look of surprise that Cero gave her. Summer sat on the stool and picked up the medical kit, handing it over to her. "Make it quick."

"Yea, right, yea." Cero said. After all the secrecy and standoffishness, Summer had whipped off her shirt like nothing. The difference between exposure and vulnerability, she supposed. Cero washed her hands then set to cleaning the wound. She knew it had to be painful, but Summer never moved, never flinched, never blinked. She just let Cero work in silence. Cero didn't like silence. "So, what was the final straw?"

"What?" Summer asked, as if she didn't understand the question. Cero paused her motions to look at her, pretending that her intense stare wasn't unnerving.

"What made you two walk away?" she said. She dropped her eyes, going back to cleaning the wound.

"Winter told me to." she said nonchalantly, as if that was all the explanation necessary. Cero furrowed her brows, but kept her focus on the needle in front of her as she tried to thread the string.

"Yea? Just woke up and decided enough was enough?" she asked. There was clearly more to the story, and this time she wanted to pry a little bit. Summer shrugged, not seeming to notice as the needle bit into the skin of her side.

"Yes." she said. She didn't understand the conversation. "It wasn't until later that the memories started coming back. That's when we realized we were never supposed to be there in the first place."

"World War II. Soviets got you." Cero supplied. She didn't know if they remembered that.

"Hydra. It doesn't matter where they were from. They were Hydra." she said. She didn't sound angry, or sad. It was just matter-of-fact. She realized that she probably should entertain the conversation both ways. "Did Nought take you?"

"They were the lesser evil at the time." she said. Now she realized why Summer and Winter were less than forthcoming with their answers: it wasn't comfortable, sharing information.

"Why walk away?" she said as Cero pulled the last stitch closed and tied it expertly. Summer took the needle from her and put another thread through, getting to work on the entrance wound. Cero carefully secured gauze over the back.

"They killed the woman I loved." she said, standing up and stepping away. Now she had confidence. "It wasn't worth it after that."

Summer gave her a long, unblinking look, and for once, Cero held it. "I understand." she finally said. She didn't remember what love felt like, but she remembered that she had felt it before. She remembered sacrificing everything for it.

"I'll take first watch. You and...Winter get some rest. You deserve it." she said, stepping back behind the barrier. Summer continued stitching the wound in steady motions, listening for any sounds of trouble. The kids seemed to be done eating, and were settling in for the night. She wondered how many times they'd been moved, if they could adjust to a new place so quickly. After all, how many times had she and Winter been taken to a strange place, and just accepted it as their new normal? And they hadn't even been kids when they were taken.

She finished with her wound and checked her thigh for good measure, but that one didn't need stitches. She pulled her shirt back on, her lip curling slightly as the sweaty fabric settled again on her skin. She'd gotten used to being clean over the past few months, and wished she had an extra shirt. Perhaps Winter had one in his bag.

Someone had found bedrolls, pillows, and blankets in one of the boxes, and the kids had fallen into a light, restless sleep. She looked for Winter and found him settled on the floor in a cross-legged position, his back against the wall with a clear view of both exits. On his lap was the smallest child, the only one deeply asleep. Her face was smushed against his chest, her tiny fingers loosely grasping his shirt. Summer settled next to them, just close enough that her leg was touching his.

"How did that happen?" she whispered. Winter wasn't holding the girl. In fact, he looked uncomfortable. But he wasn't moving.

"Made the mistake of sitting down." he replied. He lifted a hand, looking like he might rest it on her back, but he let it fall back to his side. He had memories of crying children, memories of calming them like this. But he didn't remember them being so small and so delicate. "I used to like kids."

"You still can." she said. The girl shifted, settling further into Winter's lap. He looked down at her, and all he could think of was how pure she was. He couldn't hold her, couldn't taint her with the blood on his hands. He hoped the hammering of his heart didn't wake her.

"We used to want them. Do you remember?" he asked. The conversation had taken place in a tent. She'd said she was there for warmth; they always had different excuses.

"I do." she said. "I said two. You said four."

"I didn't want a sibling to be left alone." he said. He wasn't sure he'd ever said that aloud before, he couldn't remember. She nodded, as if she knew.

"We would be terrible parents now." she said. Again, matter-of-fact. He let out a brief huff of a laugh then immediately stilled, afraid that he'd woken the child. But she slept on, unbothered.

"We would." he agreed. They had too much damage, too much emotional baggage. But they would make sure these kids got to live a real life, not just the shell of one they'd been forced into. He got himself comfortable, and Summer did as well. Slowly, very slowly, she reached over and rested her hand on his. He grasped it lightly, refusing to let go, even as he felt sleep steadily overcoming him.

They had to rest before tomorrow.

Hey y'all, sorry I didn't update last weekend. Unfortunately, I've been dealing with a recent tragedy. I'm going to try my best to keep to my regular schedule, but updates may or may not be a little spotty for a while. I say this not to garner sympathy, but just so y'all know what's going on. And if I'm able to update and the quality isn't there, please let me know (gently).

I hope everyone is safe. Tell your friends you love them.

-XM