Duality

Summary: His misery was the gasoline poised to set the world ablaze. Her love was the only thing that could suffocate the embers of his rage. They are both light and darkness and when put together they are balance. Double SI-OC.

Chapter One

James Carter

New York

December 21st 2007

IMMEDIATE TRIGGER WARNING FOR VAGUE MENTIONS OF PEDOPHILA AND MENTIONS OF WAR

James Carter rubbed the dark bags under his eyes and checked the time on his alarm, it read 4:00 AM, five more hours to go before his meeting with Fury. He sighed, sleep was unlikely because at this point the nightmares were far from gone. It seemed like what he wanted to leave back in Afghanistan was parasitic, crawling under his skin and draining all of his energy. The faces of the children...what his men did to those children...it ate at a part of himself that had been numb for years. The shield he wore proudly now made him sick when he looked at it and remembered all the things he did with it.

Sometimes James wondered why him, why was he the one reborn as the grandchild of Captain America? He was broken, he had been violated in all the worst ways by some sick fuck and then...dead. That was until about nine years old when he apparently hit his head and then everything flooded back. He was in a new world with a new family but it wasn't his poor alcoholic mother, no it was a man that bore a striking resemblance to Chris Evans and later he would find out that was because he was the grandchild of one of the heroes he had once seen in the movies that defined his childhood dreams of being someone important. He wanted to be better, create a happier ending for everyone by using what he knew to make the world a better place.

He was naïve. He took the mantle and even took the shield Howard Stark had once offered his father when it was found out he had the power of the serum in his genes. The U.S government then sent him thousands of miles away to be the face of America in the war against terror. The things he did...it made him hate his father for giving him the burden of these powers. But most of all James hated himself for thinking that he could make a difference in war.

He wondered what his men were thinking right now...that their Captain had left them because of some fucking mental breakdown. Westrich was probably sitting around a fire making his entire team fucking crazy with the non-stop banter and making fun of the situation. He had failed them, hadn't he? James wondered if they would forget about him or speak his name only with hushed curses because of his own incompetence?

They would move on to the next battle and he would still be here as mentally fucked up as ever, alone with the memories of the betrayal of two of his friends and then of what happened before this life...he could still smell their blood and sin when it came back to him.

Why did this all phase him? James was a soldier for fucks sake, killing was the job but that was never what he wanted, was it? This mission was supposed to be his way to make this mistake of a second life matter even though every single time he saw the disgustingly perfect face that looked almost exactly like Chris Evans barring the brown eyes and slightly toned down nose, he wanted to punch his mirror out of disgust for the lie that it reflected.

For a moment the gun in his side drawer came into mind before that thought almost immediately fled into the dark corner of his mind. Though for a second his brain imagined what his funeral would look like with the thousands of people he didn't know packing the crowds crying for a symbol that he stole. Would his father in this world attend? How many fake Purple Hearts and medals would they burry him with? Would ending this life just end in another reincarnation?

James didn't want to dwell any more, he was afraid of he might do if he did. So he went to the gym. It was something to tire himself out and push his memories to the back of his mind for even just a little while.

9:00 AM

James had underestimated his own sleep deprivation as his eyes hung heavily giving him an exhausted demeanor that looked out of place on this body and it's ideal features nary a scar on his face or even a tan line. It had been nearly two weeks since James had more than three hours sleep in a night and he hadn't slept for consecutive nights since after...it happened. The flashing of cameras as he left the gym triggered a part of his brain with his combat logic deeply ingrained in his mind and his flight or flight system was firing on all cylinders. He came closer than he was comfortable to admit to attacking the stupid fucking groupies looking to sell pictures to TMZ but that would only make things worse. James might have to see a therapist if he did that. Having another person step into the fucked up place that was his head was the last thing he wanted and if they made a connection then he didn't want to vanish in the night to a mental institution for his old memories.

The next thing James knew he was sitting in a chair in Nick Fury's office by himself with his memory of the drive over being obscured by his sleep deprived mind. He found it kind of funny in a weird way, his body taking control and getting him where he needed to be almost entirely on it's own. For a moment he wondered if he didn't sleep how long would it take for his body to take over permanently.

It was then that James was broken from his tired musings as the door to the office opened and a man he had not expected to meet circled around the desk and took a seat. The man siting in Nick Fury's chair was none other than Alexander Pierce, known to the world as the Secretary to the World Security Council, but to James he could only see the shadow leader of HYDRA before him with his deceitful façade as a peace loving old man. It was well hidden behind Pierce's practiced smile and the warm way he extended his hand to grip James' hand. James gripped back and shook hands with the leader of a thought to be defunct Nazi secret society. Part of himself wanted to will a false image of cordiality with this man and protect the secrets that could do immeasurable harm if HYDRA got to them, but he was tired...far too god damn tired.

"Captain Carter, it's good to meet you. Nick wanted to be here to talk to you about the...incident back in Afghanistan and your future as Captain America. But apparently they might be on the verge of a breakthrough in finding your grandfather's body in the Artic and Nick wanted to stick around for a couple more days to see if they could find him so he told me that you two were supposed to meet you here and I said I would speak to you on behalf of the council."

James faked a look of surprise. "My grandfather? They found traces of the wreckage?"

"Only a couple pieces of debris consistent with the composition of the Valkyrie and the rust patterns confirm that they probably did find traces of the plane. It's good, a soldier...a man like Steve Rogers deserves a better place to rest than some watery grave in the Artic Circle."

James nodded his head. Pierce would be very disappointed when they would find more than a corpse frozen in the ice. For a moment he wondered why Pierce never used a planted operative to prevent his grandfather from awaking from the ice. Maybe they were similar in at least the fact that they both had the power to change history with only a couple words, part of him wanted to know why, how this man who knew many of the most classified secrets in the history of the world chose to use that information for HYDRA. A dark part of James wanted to be advised on how to handle the burden of secrets they shared. Another part of him lashed out in his head, "He reaps war, I want to prevent it." his conscience weakly rebuked.

Pierce seemed to catch on to his inner musings and spoke up. "Alright, now it's time to get down to business. The council wants to know your end of the incident in Afghanistan, now the forensics work done gives us a pretty good clue of those other soldier's...misconduct, but we need to know why the man that is the face of America and the sole reason why the president's approval rating is above twenty percent was found in a house with a dead Afghan family and two dead American soldiers shot by their Captain's weapon."

James grit his teeth. "Like you said the forensics can tell you what those sick fucks were doing! We were doing a sweep looking for bombs or bomb making supplies and Walker and Ramirez were taking too long so I went to check in at the residence they were supposed to be searching and caught them...My mind went blank and by the time I regained control I had emptied a full clip into them. That's all that I can remember. I should have known better than to work with those scumbags! You should be investigating the leadership of 274 because I've heard the reputation they've begun to build up over there and if that comes out this war effort is fucked beyond repair."

Pierce gave a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry son, war is hell. I'd like to say that it gets easier to deal with the...messiness of it all, but that would be a lie. The things we see over there become just as much a part of us like mother's famous apple pie. The only thing we can do is prevent people from making the same mistakes that the people who sent us to war did. You have a real chance to be the same kind of figure that your grandfather was for this generation and be part of that change but you can't do it if you end up court martialed for the murders of fellow American soldiers, regardless of their conduct. We will be sure to look into those soldiers and the men around them."

James wanted to sneer at Pierce and his fake pity, but instead he kept a leveled expression. "Thank you, Secretary Pierce, did you have anything else you wanted to talk about?"

The older man took the hint and nodded, "Well the Council has deemed that you are too big of a risk to be operating on foreign soil for the time being, but you are too important to the people of this country as Captain America to be seen lying around in an apartment in New York City, and I know that you wouldn't be content with that either." his glance met James' before he continued on. "Men like us know what sacrifices have to be made for the rest of the world to find peace in their beds at night. It isn't in my nature to quit and I'm guessing it isn't in yours either."

"He knows nothing." James' conscience whispered, "If he did then he would never be able to live with himself." and perhaps if it had been a few years ago when he began his journey as the new Captain America right after 9/11 he might have had the heart to disagree and disavow Pierce but watching children being used as bombs, soldiers massacring civilians while the government hid their misdeeds made him wonder who exactly were the good guys. Ignoring his fragile conscience, James spoke. "It depends what my options are Secretary."

Pierce smiled and James found himself somewhat unsettled by the glint in the other man's eyes. "I was hoping you would ask: your first choice is to retire and we'll give you a whole bunch of purple hearts and you live the rest of your days sipping cocktails on a beach somewhere nice, or you could come and work counter terror. You'll rarely have to leave the country and you can help the people around here sleep better now that they have Captain America operating on U.S soil and protecting them from terrorists. I know you've been overseas for most of the war but things around here have been...tense, people are unhappy and they don't even feel comfortable in their own homes. If you come run STRIKE with SHIELD, it would help make people feel safe and restore order to their lives. Then gradually once we make sure the incident in Afghanistan is behind you then we can see about putting you back in the army."

Going back? James didn't know if he wanted to go back but at the same time life back here was quiet, far too quiet. There was nobody waiting here for him and each day the quietness slipped into his brain and made all sorts of painful memories and thoughts spring to the surface. Immediately part of himself wanted to take the offer and work his way back to the field but was he really going to work for and run ops for the boogie man of the modern world? A cynical part of himself scoffed, it was hardly different than before as the armed forces were in all likelihood already full of HYDRA plants and operatives. There wasn't a single general in the American chain of command that he could see above taking a check from HYDRA in return for allegiance. Maybe even Pierce ordered the weapons search that led both of them to Nick Fury's office for this meeting.

So James gave the only response he could think of at the moment. "I'll think about it."

Pierce nodded and extended his hand and James gripped it back and they shook hands once more. Pierce reached into his jacket pocket and handed him a card with and address and phone number. "This is to a nice Italian joint a couple of miles from here and they have the best pasta west of Rome. I'll be there at three on Sunday just before my flight back to Washington. If you decide to take me up on my offer ask the hostess to bring you to the Pierce table. I'll be eating with a couple members of STRIKE and they will tell you about the job and help take care of the paper work and such after I leave."

Then Pierce left James in Fury's office with far more questions than answers.

Saturday 3:12 AM

James laid in his bed with his phone in hand blankly starring at his almost empty contact list. His finger hovered over the 'enter' button for what felt like a decade on his father's contact.

After James decided against calling he threw his phone across the room and turned within his bed to face the opposite wall. He lay motionless for a few minutes before realizing that sleep was still evasive as ever.

There was a time where James could remember being able to take sleep inducing drugs but this damned body and it's enhanced waste disposal made such drugs little more than placebos at this point. He had a feeling this would be yet another night of restlessness which made this a third night in a row without sleep. James just wanted everything to stop...he wanted the darkness but at the same time he feared that what would find him in his nightmares would be far far worse than anything that happened during the war.

Needing another distraction from his own inner demons, James gripped the TV remote from the small dresser next to his bed and turned on the TV. He came across some comedies and sports recap channels before settling on the news.

"-and so ends another troubling day as this down turn in the economy seems like it's here to stay for the foreseeable future. Now a story fresh from Afghanistan a group of soldiers from the 107, known to most as the Howling Commandos lead by none other than Captain America, James Carter, were ambushed by the Taliban twenty miles west of Kabul. Twelve soldiers are dead and one remains in critical condition. The platoon were attacked and killed in an armored vehicle when both tires were shot out and the vehicle rolled several times before going up in flames. At this time names of the dead and the survivor are not known. When we asked for a comment on the status of Captain America, the army only told Fox-5 that the Captain was unharmed and not at the site of the battle when it happened. As a nation mourns these lost heroes we can only hope that this war ends before we lose too many more lives-"

James felt a cold dread envelope his body. No, it had to be a lie...why the fuck hadn't he been called! His men and the bond they held were some of the only relationships with people that he had in this life that meant something and some how they were murdered en mass in broad daylight and the fucking military were sending people to voice mail for him? Did they ever expect him to find out?

His phone at that moment began to ring from the other side of the room. James decided against picking it up. He wasn't ready to stomach false condolences for his dead friends after they were just turned into another publicity stunt by the news. He also didn't want to hear the accusatory voices of his dead friends family members when they called him asking why he wasn't in that burning car saving their sons and brothers. The answer? He was too weak, always too weak.

This war was bleeding him dry like a stuck pig with a spear through the gut slowly bleeding him of all life that he had left. It needed to end, it needed to end now. James knew what he had to do, what offer he had to accept because there was no more room in his heart for failure. No more room to quit until this fucking war stopped taking anymore from him. He would get back to the desert and punish the people responsible for his friends murders.

Maybe once they were dead he could finally sleep at night.

He wiped the silent tears from his face and to stood up and started to pace back and forth while thinking of a plan of action.

Sunday, 2:50 PM

James found himself standing in front of the restaurant with a fancy sign with the title, "Antonio Margheriti"s Italian Restaurant." written with the most exaggerated cursive font he had ever seen-it burned the fuck out of his sleep deprived eyes- along with the fine brick exterior that wrapped around to an outdoor dining area. It looked like an art piece that utilized both marble and wooden exterior that clashed modern styling versus the classical wooden look that appealed to someone from Pierce's age group.

Within James body he could feel his stomach churn as he numbly stood for a few minutes more as he decided whether or not he should back out now before remembering his friends...he took a step forwards and then another until he found himself standing at the front desk.

"I'm here as part of the Pierce party."

"Name?"

"James Carter."

A glimmer of recognition flickered behind the young woman behind the desk's glasses and the woman smiled up at him, breaking the reserved professional image she was projecting.

"Mister Alexander Pierce has already checked in. John," she gestured to one of the servers passing by, "please take Mister Carter to private booth five? He's with the Pierce party." the server gave a nod and smiled at James, "Of course sir, follow me," he lead him past rows of wide fancy glass tables to a door in which opened to reveal a very large table at which sat Alexander Pierce, Brock Rumlow, and Jack Rollins.

Pierce smiled at him before gesturing to the seat next to him which was conveniently empty, "Captain Carter, thank you for coming. I had a feeling that you would decide to join us so we decided to hold off on ordering until you got here." his gaze drifted to the waiter. " Spaghetti alla Botarga for my friend sitting across from me Mister Rumlow, Garganelli al Ragu Bolognese for Mister Carter, and for Mister Rollins he will take the Corzetti con Vagole. I'll do the same as Mister Carter."

The waiter nodded and left with the orders in tow and Pierce's smile quickly shifted into a calculated sad expression, "I'm sorry about what happened to the Commandos. They were good soldiers and their families didn't deserve to find out what happened to them on the news." James knew he was lying, if anything Pierce was glad for it. It would be one less group that Hydra would have to deal with later on during their plans, but there was no calling him out on it so he mumbled, "thank you." and was prepared to but Pierce had said something that got his attention.

"I actually wanted to be a Howling Commando when I grew up. My father was actually amongst the soldiers that Captain Rogers rescued from HYDRA experimentation. I heard the story over and over again and grew up loving anything I could get my hands on about Captain America and the Howling Commandos. It was because of their heroism that I learned that every person on the planet had a responsibility to fight and struggle for a better world. I think that is a feeling you can reciprocate, Captain?"

James had a feeling that he was hearing a speech that Pierce had rehearsed for hours. But he gave a leveled expression and asked.

"What do you mean, Secretary Pierce?"

"You picked up that shield just after becoming a man in the eyes of a government but still viewed as a child by most. A symbol that your father ran from his entire life. You brought back the Howling Commandoes and inspired a nation that was reeling from the realization that they were not safe on their own soil. If that doesn't speak to your desire to create a better world then I have no idea what would."

"And that's what working for you would do? Build a better world?"

Pierce sharply stared back at James before slipping back behind his wall of politeness. "Like I said the other day; men like us know what sacrifices and blood is shed so that these people can sleep easier. STRIKE team preemptively handles threats before they can become problems. Then America can sleep easier at night knowing that they are safe. That is what we can offer to them and it's something that you can do because you know it's the right thing to do."

"So you kill people before they act."

"It's important in today's society that we recognize that when dealing with extremists that waiting until they act before putting a bullet in them has only proven to spread the message of their cause and with one act of terrorism one dead terrorist has become an entire cell of extremists ready to brutalize civilians for their cause. It's like culling a sick cow to save the rest of the herd from infection. It's a hard call to make but the right one, just like how your actions towards those two diseased animals that claimed to serve our country were the right call."

Rumlow chimed in, "Yeah, I heard what those sick fucks did. I'd have taken them out behind the house and shot them in the streets." before turning to Rollins and striking up a conversation, seemingly bored of their boss' philosophical outlook.

James felt something inside of him crack, if only a little before he spoke up, "I don't know if it felt like the right call..." Pierce honest to god chuckled, "That's bullshit. You know what you did was the only solution. You think that the government would do anything but send those two home with medals of honor in order to keep this already unpopular war going? If you hadn't done what you did that family would have died for nothing and two pedophiles would be made heroes. You only feel the guilt because you because only the executioner understands how heavy his axe really is."

"Is that your statement as the Secretary of the World Security Council?"

"It's my statement as a friend who might have had a glass of wine when out for dinner with some colleagues."

James knew it was a lie but he couldn't call it such. Pierce was in control and part of him fed off his confirmation that he did the right thing. It felt right in the moment and maybe that was what the guilt came from, that it didn't feel wrong...

It was at that point when the waiter brought the food in and set the food down. Pierce immediately asked for the check and then everyone began to eat other than Pierce. James took a couple bites noticing the freshness of the pasta combined with the tender veal and the sauce that tasted the just right ratio of sweetness and acidity. It truly was just as good as Pierce advised.

"You were right about the pasta, it's amazing."

"I know, that's why I ordered it. So about my offer, have you decided you wanted to join STRIKE?"

"If I did then how would I run foreign ops? The council wants me localized, right?"

"I explained to them the circumstances of the situation in Afghanistan and they are willing to relent so long as you are willing to work with my squad. So the only question left is if you are willing to because once I walk out that door the offer is tabled. If you say yes I can get you a flight and pay off an apartment for a year in a nice part of D.C."

"Fuck no! "His conscience spoke, but his mouth remained silent before murmuring the word, "yes" aloud. Pierce smiled and stood up from the table, "well it's about time I get going. My flight is in two hours and I don't want to leave the plane waiting on the air mat. Carter you can have my food, I know your body needs more calories because of the serum so I ordered it for you anyways, Rumlow and Rollins you can spend some time getting to know your new Captain and get the paperwork and such sorted. Oh and one last thing Captain," Pierce pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket, "these are the dates and times for the funerals. I'm also working on where they'll send Westrich once they return him to the states." he gripped the paper.

"Westrich made it?"

"Just barely, his body has third degree burns all over. Combine that with an awful concussion he's barley hanging in there. The good news is that apparently Stephen Strange is jockeying to take him as a patient like he does for all high profile emergencies. He should be in good hands and it will probably help his spirits if you could stop by to see him."

With that Pierce left him with Rumlow and Rollins and while part of himself felt dirty for taking a deal from the devil, another part was eager to get to work so that maybe everything wouldn't be for nothing.

This is the end of Chapter One. The Next Chapter will introduce my other Reincarnated OC to the fic and I hope that all of you enjoy her as a character.

For this Chapter I hope that I did a good job at communicating the complicated feelings of someone who's realizing that while he might be in a comic book universe that this world is as far from happy and healthy while dealing with his own demons from his past and lack of emotional attachments.

As I asked last time reviews would be very helpful as it lets me know what the feel is or if I made a mistake somewhere and makes future content more enjoyable.

Thanks for all the Support! Hopefully I have time to get Chapter Two out by next Weekend. But be sure to follow so you can be the first to know.

Italics/Inner Thoughts/ Emphasis