- CHAPTER 4: LEDGER -
The Winter Soldier and I were going on too many missions lately. One after the other in relentless succession.
Over the past three months, I'd killed more people than I had in the past six years combined. And it wasn't just wearing on me physically. Every time I closed my eyes for the night, my dreams were filled with the terror and blood of the lives I'd ended.
Exhaustion had become my best friend as sleep began to evade me completely. And despite how much I screamed and begged, no one would sedate me so I could just rest.
But I learned that someone was in my corner.
Each morning, I would leave my cell-like bedroom and the Winter Soldier was waiting outside like always. At first, it was business as usual. We would head to spar or be briefed on another mission.
Round and round in an endless cycle of horror. Slowly, I started to become weak, my body having trouble functioning as it should.
One morning, I trudged out of my room and when the Winter Soldier went to close it, I saw something fly out of his hand and into the darkness of my room. He slammed the door shut without a word and led me towards the sparring room. Along the way, he ignored my inquisitive looks. I was roughed up all day, limping by the time I was allowed to tuck in for the night.
When I heard the lock of my bedroom click into place, I searched around. My bed and desk were void of anything unusual. I bent to my knees to look under both, but there was nothing. I gave out a long sigh, perhaps the fatigue wearing me down so much that I was imagining things.
My back hit my bedframe as I sat on the floor, hugging my knees. I leaned my chin atop my legs, my body hunching awkwardly as I stared at the wall.
The concrete morphed, and I began to see red. A groan escaped my lips as I witnessed our most recent mission play out like a movie in my subconscious. The images didn't stop despite how much I tried to push them away.
We were stationed high above in the rafters of an extravagant hotel in Prague. Murals lined the walls as bellhops dressed in pristine maroon uniforms flitted about with luggage. I'd probably consider it beautiful under normal circumstances.
But there was nothing beautiful about what we were here to do.
I was on my stomach, leaning my head on an opening in the stained glass roof. My eyes were heavy but aware as I watched the patrons walk around the crowded lobby. No one looked up, the thought that an assassin was hovering just above them probably not even crossing their minds.
My senses had deteriorated so much that I didn't even recognize as the Winter Soldier crept up behind me. He gave me a start as his long hair came into my peripheral.
"Jesus," I grumbled, rubbing my temples. "Give a girl a warning."
He gave me what I thought was an apologetic gaze. One plus side to all this shit was that he hadn't been wiped in months. Therefore, he'd been less of a vegetable and more of a human on our past couple of missions. Especially on ones like these, where it was just us two sent out.
"How do we look?" he asked flatly.
"Haven't seen him yet." I leaned my head in my hands, scanning the lobby of the hotel again.
We were sent here to take out a French kingpin playing double agent, acting like he was working for Hydra while also colluding with those we considered enemies. He would buy weapons from one organization to sell to another at a higher price, as well as glean information from one to feed to others for compensation. It didn't matter what went on after he sealed his deals. If we all killed one another, it was no skin off of his back. Until today.
"I found a way in," he said with a nod somewhere to our right, "gets us right into the fifth floor." I just nodded, my eyes closing for too long before I popped them open with a slap to the face. "Are you..." He hesitated.
"Am I...?" I asked, eyes not leaving the lobby floor. When he remained quiet, I shifted my eyes to him. His face contorted in slight discomfort, cogs clearly whirring in his brain. It was like his mind was fighting with his words. "Are you okay?" I whispered sincerely.
He gulped hard. "I was going to ask you that," he said just as quietly.
"Oh." My mouth formed a small circle. He met my eyes, their slate blue irises alight from the warm lights below us. Up close, it was so easy to think about how attractive he was under his murderous facade. "I'm fine." I gave him a weak smile. "Just... really tired is all." He nodded but didn't look away. "I asked as well... You good?"
He considered the question for a moment. "Also tired." It was about as much as I usually got from him.
"We could wait it out another night. They gave us a few days—"
"I have them too," he said suddenly, lips twitching downward as his brows scrunched. Sadness clouded his eyes. "The nightmares."
I shifted, a little uncomfortable. They always told us not to be vulnerable, not to give away anything that someone could use against us. But here we were, prepping to kill, and he chose to divulge this part of him.
"Yeah?" He only nodded at my question. My throat went dry as I finally looked away. Flashes of our past few months slid in and out of my vision. A neverending slideshow of bodies. I laid my head on my hands once more, my eyes no longer focusing as I watched a group of tourists split up for the night. "How do I stop them?" My voice was laced with misery despite my attempts to keep it from faltering.
I heard as he cleared his throat, felt his eyes still on me. But I couldn't look up for fear that exhaustion would finally catch up with my emotions.
I was here to kill, not commiserate.
"You can't." He finally said, voice barely floating on the wind.
"I just want to be able to fall asleep." My frown deepened. "Eight hours of on and off nightmares is better than one hour—two if I'm lucky—of nothing but torture."
He didn't respond right away, his eyes finally off of my face with a whirl of his long hair. We were left in silence, the only sounds being the commotion of conversation wafting up and just into earshot. I couldn't help it as my eyes drooped, closing for extended periods of time before whipping open.
My title of 'assassin' was washing away with each passing day.
"There they are," the Winter Soldier's words rang clearly in my ears, perking me up.
I got into a crouching position as he did the same, looking down at the targets. The Frenchman was escorted by no less than a dozen bodyguards as he sauntered down the fourth-floor balcony. I whipped my head a few times, allowing the cool air to bring me back to full focus.
"You..." he began, hesitating once more. "You could just run snipe up here."
I sent him a bewildered look. "Don't trust my ability to stab a guy in the neck anymore?"
"It's not that." His eyebrows scrunched. "I just think..."
"Oh, please," I said jokingly. "We know you don't think about anything."
His lips twitched upwards as he placed his mask over his mouth and neck. My fingers fumbled with my own, my braid getting in the way. I felt a metal hand graze the back of my neck before the intrusive hair was lifted, allowing me access to zip it up at the nape.
"Thanks," I muttered, a little perturbed by the sudden assistance. I stood, making sure the safety of my guns were off. "Ready?"
With a stern look in my eyes, I watched the Winter Soldier part of him return—ruthless and calculating.
He led me over to a ledge, jumping on a balcony before helping me land. With a quick slide of a knife through the locks, he opened a regal window. I crept in first, gun raised as I checked if anyone was around. It looked like we entered through a ballroom of some sorts that was, thankfully, deserted.
We made our way towards large wooden doors that led to a large mural-filled hallway. With quick movements, we headed towards a marble staircase, guns always ready in case we ran into anyone.
The stairs led us to a hallway that seemed to parallel to the balcony hallway. It was lined with doors to hotel rooms on one side. On the opposite side, at both ends were a set of doors that would lead us out and to our target.
"I can take this side," I pointed a gun at the ones right in front of us. "They'll probably try to run downstairs. I'll cut them off if you cover me from the back."
He nodded. "Good luck."
"Like we need it." I sent him a smirk he couldn't see.
As he stalked down the hallway without a second look, I aligned myself just out of sight from the kingpin and his minions. They began to slip down the stairs, and I took one last deep breath, stifled by my mask.
Just as I turned my head to give the signal to the Winter Soldier, he punched an arm through the wall, pulling back one of the bodyguards and killing him on impact. I rolled my eyes as he walked a few more feet, kicking the wall before jumping through the hole he'd made in the process.
With my own kick, I propelled the doors outward. From my peripheral, I watched as he embedded knives in about three more bodyguards.
Sure enough, the Frenchmen and his goons began to rush down the large marble staircase in an attempt to escape. I rolled over the bannister with ease, falling gracefully onto the landing that led to the next staircase. I shot down two of the bodyguards in the head before becoming bored and pulling out a knife.
My blade went up and through the chin of one, while I whipped another bodyguard over my shoulder before stabbing him right in the jugular. I applauded the bravery, but as another tried to creep up behind me, I turned with a swift slice across his neck.
On the steps behind me, a couple of bodies fell. The Winter Soldier used them as a cushion as he pushed himself over the bannister.
I gave him an impatient look at his dramatic entrance. He didn't acknowledge me as he stalked forward, walking under one of the intricately moulded marble arches that led to another balcony. He grabbed the kingpin firmly by the neck as I leaned on a pillar and watched on with boredom. The Frenchman wiggled for a few long minutes before finally relenting, falling onto the floor with a thud.
He wasn't able to die completely before the Winter Soldier muttered, "Hail Hydra."
Finally, the Winter Soldier turned to look at me as I approached to stand beside him. His shoulders were tense, eyes no longer bright but shaded with malice.
"I said through the door," I spoke as I kicked the body to make sure he was really dead, "not the wall."
He gave me a jaded look before looking over my shoulder intently. I heard the faint sound of keys clinking against something and turned slowly. At the end of the hallway was a young Asian man, tan skin matching bright but terrified brown eyes, trying desperately to unlock his door. With each failed attempt, he looked back at us with fear laced across his features.
The Winter Soldier began to walk forward with a determined look in his eyes and a set jaw. I placed a hand on his metal bicep.
"We did what we came here to do," I said lowly. "Let's just leave him."
"No witnesses," he said flatly.
His words combined with the venomous look he sent my way was enough for me to remove my hand. I don't even know why I bothered. When he was on his killing high, it was hard to bring him down.
So I watched as he slowly pushed his way down the hallway, pulling a gun. At least it would be an instant death, then. I heard the man plead for his life as he came face to face with the soldier. But his words were useless.
My eyes remained steady as I watched the Winter Soldier put a bullet through the man's head.
The shot that rang out brought my eyes back in focus, the concrete wall just as dim and dark as I had left it before jumping into the memory.
I felt sick, nausea bubbling in my stomach. I ran to the small trashcan in the corner of my room as bile threatened to pour from my mouth. But I stopped short as I hovered over it.
A hint of orange peeked out from the loose papers I had thrown away, and I dipped my hand in. Pulling the object out, it became clear that it was clearly a medicine bottle of some sort. 'Melatonin,' the label read. Not exactly a hardcore sedative, but something that would help me calm my nerves and get me to sleep.
My back hit my bedframe as I looked at the bottle once more, reading the label thoroughly. It was puzzling. This definitely had to be what the Winter Soldier threw in here.
Of course, it could always be a trick—poison or something. But I had a gut feeling it wasn't anything nefarious. So I opened the lid and swallowed a few of the white pills.
While still riddled with nightmares and horrific images, I was able to almost sleep through the night.
A month and three more missions after Prague, we found ourselves on our way to exterminate another threat.
My heart rocked in my chest with each bump of turbulence. To say the military plane we were aboard was sturdy would be an understatement, but the air was particularly brutal tonight. I leaned my head back, the straps around my chest feeling a little too suffocating.
"About five minutes out from drop," our commander yelled from the front. He opened the door, revealing the night sky in a gust of wind that instantly chilled me through my black uniform.
Other soldiers stood and readied up, checking their chutes to make sure they were operational. I remained sitting, opening the folder in front of me one last time.
A baron turned commander of EKO Scorpion, one of Hydra's biggest enemies based in Sokovia. They had tried to absorb the organization several times over, but EKO stood their ground. So, Hydra thought it was finally time to send a message.
I absorbed the picture of the target, pale with short brown hair as he stood in his military uniform and held up a gun. He sure seemed like a threat in terms of Hydra standards, much like any of the others we'd gone after. With a sigh, I threw the folder onto the empty seat beside me.
My palms met my eyes as I rubbed hard. I pulled away and saw black smeared all over my hands. Shit, forgot that was there. We always wore greasepaint at night, the goggles too dark to operate after the sun went down.
There was a pair of eyes on me, poking holes into my face as I rubbed the paint on my pants. Looking up, I saw the Winter Soldier sitting directly across the aisle. His cool blue eyes shone even in the dim lighting of the plane, his jaw set as we entered some sort of staring contest. His gaze wasn't cold or calculating, but almost seemed considerate.
I choked first and looked away.
Even he was starting to grow deep bags under his eyes. Soon enough, he'd look as rubbish as me.
Before we'd left headquarters, I had looked at myself in a mirror. My face had become so translucent, my eyes void of any life. Even my usually plump frame had thinned out a bit, to my chagrin.
I was wilting like a flower in the winter, destined to die out completely at this rate. The thought of what Hydra would do to me—how they would force me back into my usually adept self—pulled on a knot in my stomach.
I stood, legs wobbly from both the rough ride and general fatigue, as I went towards the chutes. The Winter Soldier was right behind me. We both masked up, and I made sure my braid was out of the way to avoid another too-personal touch from the soldier beside me. Not that I thought he would even try in front of our kill squad.
We strapped into our chutes soon after, the commander approaching us with a disinterested gaze. Just another day on the job.
"The mansion is heavily guarded," he began, pointing to a diagram on the makeshift table in front of us. "Lots of personnel wandering about, especially guards." He pointed a finger at the six soldiers that would come with us. "They'll cover your backs as you head for the primary targets. You are not to leave until every single person in that building has been eliminated."
We nodded, walking towards the rest of the squad.
"Gang's back together," a creep named Rumlow sent a hand down my bicep. I think he meant it to be seductive, but it just made me want to gag. "Happy to be working together again."
"Yeah, always a pleasure," I said flatly. Going on missions with him were always the worst. If my parachute didn't work on the way down, I wouldn't be upset.
"Too bad you have to hang out with Captain Bionic." He sent a nasty look in the direction of the Winter Soldier. "Would have been nice if went in together... Better conversation."
"Oh, yeah," I said, trying not to let my voice simmer as talons pecked the skin of my closed fist. Rumlow wasn't the type to piss off, especially when it came to his 'charming' advances. "Already missing the fun chit-chat we could've had."
"We'll take a raincheck." I didn't like the dark smile on his face.
And then he and the others took their cue to jump out of the plane. I walked up to the ledge, the wind whipping locks out of my braid. The Winter Soldier had his eyes on me, and I glanced at him one last time. With a nod, we both jumped out of the plane.
The air was frigid, my stealth suit doing nothing to prevent every part of my body from turning to ice. Thankfully, it was a short drop, and we were pulling out our parachutes in what felt like no time. They were black to match the night sky, and we drifted into the woods just outside of the gates of the mansion without detection.
My legs stumbled a little on impact but a metal hand reached out to grab onto my forearm before I tripped completely. With a nod of thanks, I led the Winter Soldier through the woods until we were about one hundred feet from the back gate to the mansion.
"We've got two hostiles on our side," I whispered into my earpiece.
"About half a dozen over here," Rumlow replied a few seconds later.
Piece of cake, then. "Alright, we're going in."
"Right behind you, sweetheart." My nose scrunched in disgust at his words. "We'll clear the front and go from the bottom up. You and brainfreeze can head straight up for the primary targets."
"Copy."
The walkway up to the back gate was bordered by manicured hedges. This must not be a baron that values safety. It would be all too easy to trail up the foliage under the cover of dark and incapacitate the two guards.
"You want left or right?" I looked over to the Winter Soldier. He gave me a disinterested look, veering right. "Okay, I guess I'll go left then."
I skirted around large trunks and dodged under low branches of luscious green leaves. As always, my feet were silent, barely a whisper as they treaded over the grass.
I reached the tree parallel to the standing guards, about six feet away. Peeking around, I saw a flash of metal in the moonlight as the Winter Soldier caught up with me. Either of us could take both of them down in a heartbeat, so I didn't waste my time giving him a signal.
Instead, I counted down from five, then pulled out two knives from my belt. One I sent flying from behind the tree, lodging itself through the right ear of the closest guard. Before the other one could even lift his gun, I was in his face, kneeing him in the stomach and shoving the knife into his forehead as he buckled. The Winter Soldier walked out from behind his tree, flipping his own knife in his hand.
"Enjoy your break?" I raised my eyebrows playfully.
His response was a kick to the gate, immediately breaking its lock so we could go in. We walked side-by-side now, crouching behind bushes as we inched along to the backdoors of the mansion. The home was dark, everyone clearly tucked in for what they thought was going to be a peaceful night. The soldier beside me tapped my shoulder and pointed with his head. I saw a couple more guards just inside the doorway.
We incapacitated them with ease, each of us taking one down. The Winter Soldier continued to flip his knife around as we made our way slowly up the stairs. Ever so faintly, I could hear the scuffle coming from the front of the house. We must have been winning if the noise was barely audible.
Without incident, we reached the third floor before a light suddenly went on around a corner. It's where the bed chambers of the baron were located, so most likely to be one of our targets, possibly a couple more guards. Both of us paused, dipping into a nearby alcove.
My stomach knotted ever so slightly as he pulled out his gun, clicking it silently to unlock the safety. His eyes set with the mission to ravage whoever was waiting for us.
My mind raced with the thoughts of Prague and the innocent bystander. How he'd been so unhinged and the most like the Winter Soldier. Mission after mission, he kept on putting himself in the mindset of unmitigated violence.
Now, I realized he could be humane—possibly even kind—if given the chance and benefit of the doubt. Helping me had been proof of that. So perhaps, I could alleviate some of that inhumanity. Even if it meant growing my own.
It was the twisted kind of logic that could only make sense in my hellhole of a life.
I put a hand on his own as he went to get into position. "I've got this one," I mumbled.
With a dry throat, I inched out of the alcove and along the wall, my gun lifted between my hands. The hallway was silent—whoever had turned on the light either staying put or being a quiet walker. I kept my gaze on the corner, ready for anything. About a foot away, I raised my gun to eye level and took some deep breaths. Then, without hesitation, I turned the corner.
A little boy stood in front of me, thumb hanging from his gaping mouth as he hugged a bear. He wore striped satin pyjamas that were too big for him, despite the chubby cheeks on his cherub face.
My breath hitched, my mask suddenly suffocating me as I tried not to hyperventilate. The commander had said absolutely no one was to be left alive, but did he mean a kid? He had to have known who all lived here, so that question was quickly answered.
"Who are you?" the boy whispered.
As my chest heaved, I unconsciously lowered my gun to my side. This wasn't normal, this was not how we operated. Kingpins and barons were one thing... A child was completely another.
"Are you a monster?" The boy cowered a little. He'd probably only seen people like me in his scary stories.
I couldn't do this.
"Why are you up?" I breathed.
If only he had been in bed, perhaps we could have missed him. But now he was a target, especially if the Winter Soldier was waiting around the corner. I wanted to believe that he wouldn't be able to carry out something like this either but, despite all recent circumstances, I could never be sure.
"Wanted some water," he responded simply.
"Sweetheart, how we looking?" I heard Rumlow through my headpiece.
"Where are your parents?" I ignored the douchebag downstairs as I continued to talk to the child.
He pointed down the hall to some large double doors. "Are you—" he paused, pulling his bear tighter. "Are you going to hurt us?"
Whatever sense of empathy I had left in me sparked as I looked at the terrified face of the little boy.
I was ending this right here, and not in the way Hydra wanted me to.
"What's your name?" I holstered my gun and removed my mask. He seemed to relax ever so slightly at my calm face.
"Carl."
"Carl," I said seriously as I approached him slowly. When I reached him, I placed my hands on his small shoulders. He flinched, and my heart broke a little more, but I just stared intently into his eyes. "Can you do something for me?" He just nodded, bear tight to his chest. "Go wake your parents and tell them there are some bad men here. Tell them you all need to leave. Can you do that?"
"Y-yes."
"Good boy." I patted him once on the shoulders before turning him and pushing him on his way. He practically tripped on his long pants as he sped down the hallway.
With a deep sigh, I turned and my face crashed into a solid body. The Winter Soldier looked down at me with malice, the greasepaint matching how dark his eyes had become. He made to step around me but I placed firm hands on his chest.
"No," I bit out. He tried to move again, and I pushed at him. "I said no. Not this one."
"We have a mission," he said calmly, though his eyes softened just a bit.
"And if we let kids become a part of our mission, how much better are we than our supposed 'enemies'?" He didn't move as we stared intently at one another. "I don't want to hurt you but I'm not letting you do this."
"We're all done down here," Rumlow sounded bored in my ear. "What's the holdup?"
I blanched, forgetting about the troop of men waiting for us. My hands fell to my side as my head dipped. Greasepaint littered my hands again after I pulled them away from my eyes. I've never wanted to cry on a mission until now, but I felt as tears prickled from frustration and guilt.
But I couldn't give up.
So with a knee to the chest, I sent the Winter Soldier flying backwards and into the end of the hall. He pulled his knife, taking jabs here and there, but I swore that he was only fighting at half capacity. I wasn't able to focus on it as the veins around my eyes bulged, and I sent talons scraping down his metal arm. With a flip, I sent him spiralling over the bannister until he landed on the ground floor with a sickening thud. He didn't move.
Using the bannisters to scale down, I landed in a roll and went over to check his pulse. It beat firmly under my fingers, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Two of the soldiers with us came into the room.
"What the hell—" The one on the left didn't get the chance to finish his sentence before he had a piece of metal sent flying into his neck.
I rolled to avoid shots fired by the other one, using my now-metal arms to block a few before I kicked him back into the door. Another piece of metal protruded from my hand and I gave him a stab straight through the heart.
Lights flickered on above me from the third floor, shouts as I heard guns clicking. The commotion was confined to upstairs, none of the men screaming or even looking over the bannisters. Perhaps, they were finding a way out instead of looking for the perpetrators.
I looked back to the Winter Soldier, still lying motionless. If I was quick, I'd be able to come back for him. So, I pulled on his heavy motionless body and moved him to an out of the way spot.
With fast movements, I entered the foyer. Bodies littered the ground in various states of disarray, the rest of our squad standing at arms in the center of the room. Four including Rumlow. I took deep breaths.
"What happened?" Rumlow seethed. "We've been made." He looked past me, perplexion crossing his features. "Where's the popsicle and the other two?"
A piece of sharp metal was in his forearm before he took another blink, my knee going to his groin and sending him down. Another soldier fired off, nicking my left arm but doing nothing against my armor. I went for him next, avoiding bullets as I rolled forward. My talons met his eyes as I pulled them out before snapping his neck.
Rage was the only thing I felt. Coursing through me like a plague that threatened to kill me from the inside out.
Another bullet whizzed past my head and I turned. Sharp metal met the thigh of the soldier and I brought him down to the ground, using his own gun to fire between his eyes. The last one tried to run, making for the doorway. Sprinting after him, I grabbed his arm, twisting it completely around with the crunch of his bones. When he faced me, I ended his life as well with another well-aimed piece of pointed metal.
Heaving, I thought I was clear to head for the Winter Soldier. There were no sounds of struggle, no yelling beyond the distant calls from upstairs. I gave a sigh of relief.
Maybe we could get out of this. Get out of Hydra. My mind blossomed at the thought of it, and I felt my magic drain back within me.
But a knife met my stomach when I turned around. Rumlow, his one forearm limp and still protruding with the metal I placed there, held a grin as he shoved the blade deeper.
"That wasn't very nice, sweetheart," he said wickedly before pulling the knife out. My abdomen pulsed with pain as my hand went up to apply pressure. "Why don't we just calm—"
I landed an elbow to his nose, trying to ignore the wound in my abdomen. As he fell backwards, I pulled the shard from his arm. Squatting, I used a leg to bring him down with a kick to the knees and climbed over him. I planted the shard through his shoulder, shoving it through and pinning him to the luxurious floor. Then, I sent punch after punch to his jaw until his eyes closed.
As I raised my fist again, a metal hand took ahold of it and twisted me off. I flew back a few feet, the pain in my stomach rattling me so much that I could only draw my power up to my wrists. I shot a metal shard blindly, but looked up just as the Winter Soldier caught it in his hand. With determination, I lunged forward, planting a kick to his knee. I was careful not to push too hard, not to break anything.
Because deep down, the hope that we could get out of here still remained.
But it was short-lived as he flipped me sideways, my back landing against a wall as my head collided. The metal shard flew, lodging itself less than an inch beside my right ear. I didn't even get a chance to realize what happened before his hand was around my neck. It was more uncomfortable than suffocating. Our chests heaved in unison as the room went quiet.
"If you can do it, fine," I finally said, gazing into those bright blue eyes. I was so, so tired. "But I can't. I won't. Not anymore."
Without hesitation, he pulled another knife, twirling it in his hands. I didn't move, waiting for him to drive it into me.
Instead, he twisted the blade inwards and punctured it just above his hip. He removed his hand from my neck before pulling the knife out. Blood seeped through his clothing.
"What are you doing?" I gasped, immediately going to stifle the blood but he pushed my hands away.
He still wore his mask, so all I had to go off were his eyes that somehow encompassed both sadness and determination. He lifted the knife again, driving it through his non-metal bicep. He removed that one quickly as well, staining his clothes with even more blood.
Grabbing me by the forearm harshly, he ushered me towards the door. On my way past, I heard Rumlow groan slightly. Great, still alive.
When we reached the steps just outside, he shoved me forward. Before I could turn back to him, he had a hand on the back of my neck. He pulled away, and I felt intense pain as skin ripped apart at the nape. Then came the crunch of metal as the disk that had electrocuted me so many times before fell to the gravel in front of me. He gave me a firm shove and I was barely able to catch myself in a roll as I landed right beside the discarded disk.
A whirring sound came from above us—a helicopter making its escape as it launched off of the top of the mansion. I could just barely see Carl as he looked out the window, bear still close to his chest. And then it was gone into the blackness of the night sky. Relief washed over me that they had managed to escape.
The Winter Soldier removed his mask when I finally stood, my hand grabbing my stomach. His jaw was set as he looked at me.
"Rumlow's still alive," I said through labored breaths. "If we just end him, we can—"
"No." His voice was stern. "He'll be my witness so they know I didn't do this."
"He doesn't need to be if you just come with me."
He halted, his eyebrows twitching as the hardwired part of his brain tried to take over.
Another helicopter gained on us now. Hydra's by the looks of it—sent to see what all the commotion was about. It was close, lights bright as it made its way over the forest.
His eyes were on the approaching aircraft. "Go," he said, voice deadpan. When I didn't move, he glared at me. "Now."
And so, as fast I could manage, I ran into the cover of night. I looked back once before I disappeared but the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found.
I bypassed a majority of the flowery bits, but Nat got the idea of what happened by the time I was done with my tale.
"So," she leaned her head back to rest on her chair, her eyes scrunching in confusion, "he just let you go? Encouraged you, even... Doesn't seem very like him to be such a gentleman."
"There was a lot more that led up to it," I placed my forehead on the table, the cool metal weakening the heat of my face. "Like I said, he wasn't always heartless. There were times when I thought we might actually be..."
"Be what?"
"I think friends is too strong of a word." I lifted my head to meet her gaze. "Plus, I think to be considered friends, you have to be able to hold a conversation. But," I sighed, "he was the closest thing I ever had to one."
"You mean minus the times his mind was fried and he beat you to shit?" she joked.
"Every healthy friendship involves fighting, right?" I returned the smirk she sent my way.
"So why do you think he stayed?" She crossed her arms and tilted her head, as if she was also trying to piece together the puzzle. "He had such an easy out..."
"He wasn't like me," I said without hesitation. "I still had—and have—my mind. He... doesn't. Near the end was the only time I had a tiny peek at who he was before he became the Winter Soldier."
"It also sounds like he was trying to protect you." She raised her eyebrows. "He stayed so they wouldn't try too hard to look for you."
"That's absurd," I mumbled, but it was an idea I floated around that night after I escaped, and one that haunted me so many nights after it. "Like you said, he's not a gentleman... and not really the 'save your ass' kind at that."
"But he is strategic. Lose both assets, and Hydra would be all over your asses. Lose just one... they probably would care less. Not by a lot, but just slightly."
I leaned back, my arms crossing as I looked at the shiny table. Her intent gaze at me mirrored on its surface. It did make sense, despite how my brain pushed against the notion.
I think part of my doubt was rooted within the guilt I felt for leaving him there. Regret had lived at the back of my mind for the past three years because of it.
"Plus," she drew my attention to her, "he would have killed you. You know that."
"Yeah..." I whispered. "I know."
"I think you should talk to Steve," she said suddenly, standing up. "This is eating him, and, as you know, he's lashing out because of it." She bit her lip, looking off into the distance. "I've never seen him like that. So, I think it would be nice for him to know that there's a sliver of his friend left."
"Even if that sliver will probably never be more than just that?"
"A ray of sunshine is better than a never-ending storm." She shrugged.
I scrunched my eyebrows. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"I'm ex-KGB, not the poet laureate." She smiled, planting a hand on my shoulder as she walked around the table. "See you in a bit. First mission with the team—how exciting! And hopefully not the last, if we're lucky."
The thought of being a part of something sent a flutter through my stomach. And not just anything, but part of a group of individuals who weren't trying to destroy or take over the world. Maybe I would be able to actually remove some of that red in my ledger.
But never all of it. And maybe that was okay.
"Here," I stood, taking the flash drive she'd given me out of my pocket.
Her face contorted in confusion. "What're you—"
"If all of you guys are going to have your shit out there, so am I." A sad smile graced my lips as I held it out to her. "We are a team, after all."
She grabbed ahold of it, flipping it in her fingers. Her eyes watched it warily as the metal of it shone off the lights.
"You're sure?" she asked seriously.
"Positive."
She nodded at me, a small smile gracing her lips. Without another word, I watched her walk into the hallway.
I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life, but I found I didn't care. If anything, a weight was off my shoulders. There was no way I would actually be able to move on if I didn't face what was behind me.
Eventually, after meandering through hallways and doors, I found Steve on a bridge on top of the dam. Sam was speaking with him in voices too low for me to hear from this distance. I leaned on the doorway, letting them talk out whatever they needed to. Finally, Sam turned and headed back towards the open door.
He gave me a slight smile. "Your turn, then?" he asked as he gave a head tilt back towards Steve.
"Guess so," I said with a small smile. "Any pointers about how to talk to a miffed Captain America?"
His face faltered at that, looking back to the buff blonde. "Just..." he hesitated, giving out a sigh before looking back at me. "Just don't give him any hope that's not there."
He put his hands in his pockets before walking past me. I gave Steve a couple more moments, his face twisted with deep concentration. Then, with a sigh, I set out to meet him in the middle of the bridge.
"Kind of a shitty view," I started. He didn't look my way. "Though, I guess it has its own kind of charm... If you're into the whole creepy abandoned thing."
He still didn't move, didn't say a word. And as I looked at his eyes, I realized it wasn't because he was ignoring me. They were glazed over, clearly remembering something that I had no right to be a part of. So I stood there quietly, letting him drown in his mind as a picked up some sticks to throw over the edge.
"Sam and I were talking about how he's going to be there," he finally spoke, still looking off into the distance.
"Yeah, there's no doubt." I threw my last stick over and leaned my elbows on the metal bars that formed the ledge.
"He also said," his voice was stern as we finally locked eyes, "that he's not the kind you save. Not anymore."
There was an underlying question in his statement. I turned to lean my back against the metal bars, facing his steely form completely. His shoulders were tense, jaw set with determination. My mind raced with the right thing to say.
"He might have a point," I said quietly.
"I don't think I'm able to do that." Grief flashed across his face.
My breath hitched. "I don't think I can either." He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "Listen, you have way higher stakes in this than I do. He was your best friend, all you ever had." I swallowed hard. "And I know it doesn't mean much to you in that regard but... He was also all I had, too."
Our eyes met, our wavelengths on the same page for what seemed like the first time all day. There was an unspoken agreement that we both carried the same burden.
"I was told not to give you hope," I admitted, "and that's not what I'm trying to do. He's not Bucky anymore. Far from it. But..." I bit my lip in indecision. "He's also not completely the Winter Soldier. I'm just not sure we can remove that part of him."
His steel-blue eyes met mine—they were so much like his friend we were about to fight. "We can at least try," he said with determination.
"I won't deny that." I nodded, looking off into the distance. "But Steve?" We locked eyes once more as I realized what I needed to tell him. "You have to go into this knowing when you need to give up... When you have to end it."
The look on his face told me that he would never do such a thing.
"Time to ready up," he said firmly, turning to walk away from the dam.
"Where are you going?"
"This is a war, need a uniform." He looked me up and down with consideration. "You should come with."
"Sorry, where?" I asked but stepped towards him.
He just smirked. "You'll see."
"Of course you have your own exhibit," I grumbled, walking through picture after picture of the blonde man. "Oh, this one is good." I pointed to a photo of skinny Steve that morphed into Captain America in a quick animation. "I wish I had a camera to capture that."
"You can find it all over the internet, don't worry," he mumbled, clearly not pleased by the thought.
It was still early, a couple of hours until the Smithsonian was set to open. While a few maintenance men walked around, it was easy to sneak inside and bypass them. We waited until they moved onto the moon landing section before finally creeping into the Captain America portion of the museum. It was flooded with memorabilia, all depicting what a martyr Steve was when he sacrificed himself. All showing off how much of a hero he was since he came back.
But what drew me the most were the displays of his comrades. There were several of them, men from around the world that fought beside Steve when he needed them most. I traversed past them slowly, finally landing on the largest of them all.
'A Fallen Comrade,' it read next to a large picture of the Winter Soldier's face. Or, I guess, James Buchanan Barnes as he was known then and to the historians.
"'The only Howling Commando to give his life...'" I read off the glass. Steve came to stand next to me as my fingers grazed across the words. "Guess it's not entirely a lie."
We both stared in silence as the display rotated through text, pictures, and—the most painful of all—videos of both men laughing as they hung out in their military uniforms. James looked so normal and so happy. I don't think I'd ever seen him smile once during our time together. My mind was having trouble comprehending that it was the same person.
I frowned, catching Steve doing the same in my peripheral.
"Steve," I began solemnly, "I swear to you if I had known—"
"I know," he said before looking at me. "And I'm sorry. I just..." He cleared his throat. "It was a bad day."
"A bit of an oversimplification. It was complete shit, and I didn't even know what was going on half the time." I crossed my arms, looking at another photo of James. He was aiming a gun. "Well, at least some things never change," I mumbled.
Steve actually chuckled. "Glad to hear he didn't lose his marksmanship."
"It's his best skill, I'd say." I smiled sadly, another video of them popping up as they put their arms around each other's shoulders. "What was he like?" I asked quietly. "You know... as not the Winter Soldier."
"Too good for me," Steve scoffed. "We were best friends as kids and he could have easily been the type of guy to ditch me when he got older, more handsome. Especially when I," he paused, pointing at a pre-Captain America Steve for emphasis, "didn't age as gracefully. But no. That wasn't Buck."
"Sounds like he was a great guy." My frown deepened, knowing what Hydra had made him.
"And it sounds like you think he no longer is." The words were laced with hurt.
"I just..." I shrugged, pointing at the smiling man. "That's not who I knew him to be. But," I hesitated with a bite on my lip, "I can see how this could have been him at some point."
"What do you mean?"
"There were times," I began slowly, again remembering Sam's words to me on the bridge, "where he got hints of who he used to be. And though they were rare and not very substantial, they allowed me to have a peek at who he was as a person before he was made to be a killer."
"So, isn't that a good thing?" His voice was alight with hope. I was steering him too far in the wrong direction. "Doesn't that mean—"
"Not necessarily." I sighed. "Because for every minuscule glimpse of his past, he has dozens of kills behind a shield of ignorance."
"Those aren't his fault."
"Do you really believe he'll think the same?" I asked quietly. "And that's if he's ever able to truly be... Bucky again."
I leaned on a railing facing James's display. Pictures passed by, a quiet reminder that the world still moved while we remained still in our thoughts.
"You might not believe it, but I desperately want to get that part of him back. To rid him of this disease Hydra's plagued him with... Maybe even as much as you." I picked at my fingers, avoiding his gaze. "I owe him a lot."
"We both do," Steve said before sighing, leaning right beside me.
We watched the pictures of James rotate through what felt like one hundred times. I took in every detail of his face as it had been before Hydra contorted it with violence and suppression. He'd had so much to give the word beyond bullets and knives.
"I can't let you go into this," he began, startling me out of my thoughts, "if you think the only endgame is him dead."
"Your age is showing." I shot him a sad smirk. "I agreed to at least try, remember?"
He nodded his head in resolve. "Then... I'll also agree to admit when the battle's lost." I raised my eyebrows in surprise, not expecting him to go back on his apparent determination to do anything to keep his friend alive.
"Well. Then, I guess it's about time you get that uniform."
With a small smile and one last look at the picture of his friend, he stood. As we walked past, I noticed another display, tucked away just at the end of the 'comrade' section of the exhibit. It was a glass case, holding within it a pair of dog tags. James's.
Steve was well ahead now, so I pulled out one talon and carved a perfect circle. With a quick reach inside, I pulled the dog tags out and placed them into my pocket for safekeeping.
"Ilana?" Steve called out from further within the room and I rushed to catch up with him.
"Oh," I groaned, taking in the sight before me. "You're kidding, right?"
"Nothing beats the stars and stripes," he said proudly, removing his old uniform from the mannequin.
"Except when you're trying to be covert." I crossed my arms, assessing all of the other uniforms as he gathered up his ridiculous one.
"Who said that was the goal?" He shot me a smile. "We're not just going to take Hydra down. We're going to send a message."
"That red, white, and blue spandex are somehow cool?"
"You know," he said through a chuckle, "I actually do hope we make it through this. We could really use someone able to combat Tony's plucky attitude."
"I would be delighted to have the chance." I smiled. He placed his hat on his head while he gathered the rest of the uniform in his arms. "Ready to go take down a terrorist organization? Again, I guess? Since, you know, you died thinking you already had."
"This time, I'm not dying until I know they're gone."
"That's the spirit." We both got a ping on our comms devices. "Might want to stop by the bathroom to throw that on. Maria just gave us the coordinates of where to meet."
Steve looked absolutely ridiculous as we walked along the bank of the river across from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. The suit hadn't aged well and was a monster to behold—they had not been afraid to amp up the flag motif back in the forties. We were laying low, but I was still embarrassed to be seen with him.
We circled the perimeter of the building, keeping to shadows and out of sight of any cameras. Guards were on extra high alert today, no doubt because of the theatrics that were about to play out in the sky. Finally, we reached the back of the building facing the water where the giant doors were set to open and release the Helicarriers.
Two guards rounded the corner but were kicked out of the way by Maria before anyone else had the opportunity to raise a finger. They were the only individuals standing in the way between us and the control room at the end of a long hallway. We stood in front of a concrete door—a pause as we decided how to enter.
With an annoyed sigh, I knocked.
"What?" I replied to Sam's skeptical look. "Did you have a different idea?"
Not thirty seconds later, there was a noise that sounded like a lock clicking. Sam, Maria, and I pulled our guns while Steve just stood high and mighty. The man that opened the door looked young, almost too young to be part of such an operation. And apparently just as naive, considering he let us in without any trouble. The same went for the other five individuals in the room.
"Get lost," Maria said without looking at any of them while she headed to the digital panel. No one moved, frozen in place. "I'm about to start using bullets instead of words."
They all scurried out.
"So," I started, "what's the plan from here, Cap?"
He went up to the panel and pressed a button before announcing, "Attention all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, this is Steve Rogers."
By the time he was done with his patriotic speech, my face had morphed into one of judgement. Apparently, I wasn't the only one.
"You totally wrote that down first," Sam joked.
"Is that why you took so long to change?" I asked. "You were memorizing lines?"
"You know what, you guys," he began but just faded off with a smile.
"I get it, I get it." I raised my hands in mock defense. "God Bless America."
Behind us was a loud rumbling, the earth shaking as though being hit by a giant earthquake. We rushed to the windows facing the giant river, the water glistening in the sun but also... moving. Giant trap-door like panels were receeding into one another, revealing a colossal basement. I could barely see them, but I knew the Hovercarriers were there.
"They're initiating launch," Maria said, worry lacing her voice for the first time since I'd known her.
"Yeah," I grumbled, going over to the control panel and pressing a couple of buttons. "Not by choice."
On the screen was a live feed of Rumlow in the mission control center. Bodies were already down, meaning that the STRIKE team had taken over.
"We gotta move," Sam said.
"Go." Maria nodded, already taking her position at the panel. "The timeline's been sped up."
We all ran, the long hallway leading us out the backdoor where we continued to circle the building until reaching a walkway above the river out back.
"So how do we know the good from the bad?" Sam asked.
"Maybe use your brain!" I yelled back.
We reached the edge of the walkway, the Helicarriers at various heights already.
"Charlie's too high," Steve said, looking to me. "Ilana, you'll have to find another way up."
I eyed a bay of jets not too far off. "Got it," I yelled, sprinting towards them.
Steve jumped to Alpha easily, while Sam took to the air for Beta. I could vaguely hear the sound of commotion over my earpiece.
"I'm on!" Sam yelled out before shots rang out through my piece. "Just kidding, just kidding!"
I took a chance to look up. Metal wings dodged heavy ammo, even outrunning a jet from atop one of the Helicarriers.
"Eight minutes, guys," Maria rung out.
"Yeah, yeah," I groaned, "no pressure."
Finally, I reached the bay of jets, looking up to the Helicarriers now too far in the sky for my liking. A group of pilots were rushing out to some, commanding orders.
"We're the only air support Steve Rogers has," I heard a man in front say, and I gave out a sigh of relief.
There were people in our corner.
But not for long as a missile launched out, destroying two nearby jets and a couple of the pilots with it. I ducked under the crashing rubble. Sliding under a nearby jet. I knew that if I doubled back to help, I would never make it off the ground. So as more shots rang out, more explosions destroyed jets, I rushed forward to the furthest plane.
Hopping aboard, there was already a pilot stationed to go. Her dark skin contrasted with the starkness of the sun that silhouetted her, while curly hair peeked out from underneath her helmet. She turned to me immediately, gun in hand. I raised my arms in defense.
"The price of freedom is high," I repeated Steve's words, "and I can't pay it unless you get me to the highest Helicarrier."
She analyzed me thoroughly, both of us ignoring the carnage just outside. I dared a glance back, spotting exactly who I imagined was behind the blitz. The Winter Soldier charged forward, throwing small bombs and shooting shots.
"I also can't pay it if he kills us," I said frantically, pointing behind us.
Without waiting for a response, I joined her in the cockpit. She seemed to be less hesitant, though still eyeing me as she holstered her gun and revved up the engine. I wasn't able to buckle myself in before there was a thud at the back of the aircraft.
Swivelling rapidly, a shard of metal was through the Winter Soldier's shoulder before he could make another step into the jet. It sent him back onto the concrete outside.
"Now would be a great time to take off," I told her, throwing the belt across my chest to strap me in.
She gazed at me in wonder, but sped off nonetheless. The wind whipped at us for a few moments before the back door was closed. I breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Heads up, gang," I said into my earpiece, "he's made his arrival. And was a little dramatic about it, too."
"Location?" Steve rang out. He was grunting, probably in the heat of some sort of fistfight.
"He was at the bay of jets—took most of them out. I think I grounded him, though."
"Copy. I'm heading into Alpha now." He was breathing hard.
The cockpit was silent for a moment, the pilot weaving her way expertly through falling debris, gunfire, and other jets. It was like she was made for flying.
"Who are you?" she finally asked.
That was a loaded question. "I think I'm technically an Avenger," I mused, "but the jury's still out." She nodded in consideration. "And you?"
"Monica," she said simply.
"Nice to meet you," I said genuinely. "You're really good at all this." I motioned to the chaos that surrounded us and how she was able to weave her way through it with ease.
"Runs in the family," she said, her voice barely a whisper. I didn't ask what that meant.
We reached Charlie in what seemed like a mere minute, me hopping out before we even had the time to touchdown. The flight deck where we landed was, mercifully, vacant.
"Alright, you need to head out," I called back to her, my voice a shout over the whirring of the jet and wind.
"What about you?" She scrunched her brows. "How're are you going to get down?"
My eyes squinted against the sun as I looked around. I had no idea.
But I just shrugged. "I'll figure it out."
Before she could say anything, I shut the cockpit door and gave the jet a pat to indicate for her to head out. She did so, disappearing as the aircraft dipped down below the Helicarrier.
"Alpha locked," Steve rang out as I began to sprint for where the blueprint said there was an opening into the heart of the murder machine.
"Falcon?" Maria asked, voice calmed after her momentarily lapse in the control room.
"Had to take a detour!" He was clearly flying, the wind making it hard to hear him as it muffled the comms piece. More shots fired around him and I peeked over the edge to see a jet in pursuit of him.
"Illusion?" Maria quickly moved on to ask. It was weird to hear my codename in a situation that was considered heroic.
"Just reached Charlie," I replied as I continued to sprint.
An agent with a gun lept out from behind a cargo box. Before he was able to correctly aim, my right hand shoved it out of the way and my other elbow met his gut. As he went down, I kicked him in the face.
"Might want to pick it up," Maria said.
"Oh, I'm sorry." I incapacitated two more agents. "Steve was able to walk onto his, while Sam can fly. Not all of us are lucky or gifted with robotic wings."
"Well, as an Avenger," Steve chimed in, "we can work on the flying part. Just like you wanted." I heard him deal out a punch. "If we make it out of here. Still waiting on you, kid."
"I'm working on it."
Several more guards and a couple of bruises to the face later, I made it into the heart of the Hovercarrier. A long bridge over a glass dome lie before me, and I didn't have time to consider just how high up we were.
"Bravo locked," Sam said.
"Two down, one to go," Maria said pointedly.
"Yeah, I get it," I replied with a little bite. "I'm in."
"Six minutes."
Rushing down the bridge, I made it to the mainframe. With quick fingers, I typed in the code to reveal the targeting mechanism—all the cards that Hydra had coded with Zola's algorithm. They were bright with a nefarious green. I pulled the correct one out, unbuttoning a pocket on my thigh where I held the altered one.
Time to end this.
"Charlie—"
Before I finished, I felt a sharp pain hit the back of my left shoulder. I winced, nearly dropping the card in my hand. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw a blade protruding. I ripped it out despite knowing I shouldn't.
Turning slowly, I came face-to-face with crystal blue eyes and long hair. The Winter Soldier stood tall in the middle of the bridge, his shoulders straight and eyes distant. They had definitely fried him for the sole purpose of taking us out on this mission without any bias.
But I wouldn't let that stop me. So, I quickly pivoted back to the cards, reaching out to replace Zola's with the one we corrupted. But another sharp pain hit the back of my thigh as a shot rang out. I collapsed, barely staying upright as I leaned on the center mainframe.
"Okay, guys," I admitted as I swallowed my pride, "I've got a problem. Anyone able to lend a—"
I didn't even hear the soldier cross the walkway as a knee crushed into my spine. The card went flying, sliding down a sloped metal structure hovering over the center of the glass dome.
"On my way to you," Steve yelled through the earpiece. "Hang tight, Ilana."
"Easy for you to say," I mumbled.
With a weak kick to the Winter Soldier's stomach, I hurdled over the railing. My thigh burned at the contact, but I didn't stop until the card was back in my hand. The Winter Soldier was right behind me, using my instability on the surface to his advantage as he came at me with punches.
I was able to block the first few before he landed a good one on my chin, his leg coming down on my injured thigh. It sent me to my knees in front of him, his body towering over me even more so than usual. I dropped to my hands to avoid a knee to the face, rolling to get ever so slightly away from him.
"I'm not going to fight you like you know I can," I said in a huff as I stood. "I promised someone—someone I know you care for deeply—that I would give you a chance." He just stared at me blankly as I reached into another pocket. "A chance that I also want to give you." With a twinkle of light, I held up his old dog tags. "But you're making it really hard for me to do that right now."
His eyes flickered to the chains, a flash of something crossing his eyes.
He fought off whatever it was with rage, charging at me. Using the slickness of the platform, I slid around him. Jumping onto his back and wrapping my legs around his waist, I attempted to pull the chains around his neck. Perhaps if I could just knock him out until Steve got here...
He was two thoughts ahead, easily blocking the strangle with his one hand as his metal went up to grab the collar of my suit. With a strong pull, I was sent flying over the edge of the platform. I hit the glass dome hard, my head rocking from the impact.
And then everything went black.