HYDRA had insisted that Christie stay in the helicopter waiting for James to complete the assassination at Steve's temporary Washington address. She was at the helicopter door where the ladder was hanging down, waiting to whisk James away. But she didn't want to be there, because she knew that the man that would soon be sitting next to her was not going to be the same man she once brought to her local cafe.
She tried to her hardest to remain calm, but her eyes were darting everywhere in a panic. She just couldn't manage the anticipation very well.
And suddenly, there they were. Three consecutive gunshots – one pop after the other.
Everyone in the helicopter craned their necks to see James run out of the window and onto the balcony with Steve following suit. Christie briefly poked her head out of the door and could have sworn that she saw Steve actually glance up and catch her eye as James hopped into the helicopter, which caused her to snap her head back in a panic. She sat there panting away as James finally climbed in. It was impossible for her to even have any confirmation of whether Fury actually survived this, or if Steve did in fact see her; but as she sat uncomfortably next to an assassin who definitely had no idea who she was - she didn't actually care.
As planned, a few hours later, Christie stepped into the private hospital where Fury was being operated on. She spotted Agent Hill, Natasha and Steve stood observing from the other side of the glass with bated breath. "Why the hell are you here?" Natasha asked Christie coldly. Christie spun around to face her, finally about to lose composure (which, to be fair, had been a long time coming.)
"Romanoff, even though you like to think it does, the world doesn't revolve around you. Just because you don't like me doesn't mean I don't have as much of a right to be here as you do. Get off my back you f*cking freak," she answered calmly, trying to keep her tone on one level as she lifted her arms up to tighten her ponytail absentmindedly.
When she did this however, it caused her top to raise slightly, suddenly revealing the HYDRA brand on her hip.
Natasha was careful not to show her surprise but she certainly released an internal scream, securing her ever-growing suspicions about Christie all along.
"Shut up, both of you," Agent Hill hissed, a tear pooling in her eye as the surgeons gave them all a thumbs down, signifying that Fury had flatlined. Natasha clamped a hand over her mouth whereas Hill let her tears run freely.
Christie knew that the thumbs down was a pre-arranged implication to confirm that they had rightly faked the death, so she swiftly rushed out to pass on the news to HYDRA. The quicker she told them, the quicker she could reveal that she wasn't double crossing Fury this whole situation could be cleared up, because she was really starting to hate it.
"He's dead," Christie announced, bursting into Pierce's office. "He's gone." Pierce just gave her a satisfied smirk in response and waved her out. She cleared her throat and left, straight back down the flight of stairs and into the white room where James was sitting on his beloved bed, shivering away. The nurses took one look at her and decided to leave her to it, closing the door behind them without another word.
James glanced up and his eyes squinted slightly, as if he was trying extremely hard to put a story to the face. And, as soon as he thought he would never get it, he saw three extremely blurred images in his mind that he could just about make out – lingerie, a panther, and a slice of banana bread.
"Christie…?" he croaked out hopefully. Christie's eyes went wide as she skidded across the floor.
"Shhh!" she rushed out. "Oh god, you remember me? This whole mind control thing isn't as strong as they think, huh?"
"W-what's happened?" he asked quietly, clearly a little dazed. "D-d-did I do something bad? I feel like sh*t, man." Christie couldn't lie to him. What was the point?
"They've turned you into an assassin, James," she whispered, placing her cold hands on his cheeks in comfort and looking him dead in the eyes. "But listen to me, you won't carry on being one, okay? I won't let them ruin you, just keep fighting against whatever they are giving you-" But James shook his head hopelessly.
"Can you not see what they've done to me? My mind has turned into jello! I can't remember how to do anything but fight and kill. I don't know anything! You promised you would never let it get this bad, but it has!" he told her darkly, looking back at her with that same intensity.
"That's when you're wrong, James! You'll be okay - I never let bad things happen to people I care about," Christie whispered.
"Oh yeah? Remind me how your last partner died again?" James suddenly spat venomously.
Christie dropped her hands from his face in dead shock. It felt like her surroundings had slowed down, even her heartbeat felt slow. She was so out of it that she didn't even notice James' eyes immediately fill with regret as it dawned on him what he had just said. "Wait, Christie no, I didn't mean it, I didn't-"
"Wow. Every single time I care for someone…" Christie repeated to herself in horror, standing up and slowly backing away from him whilst staring at her hands. "Every single time…"
"No no no I didn't mean it, please Christie don't leave me here!" James yelled, now standing up from his place on the bed. Christie shook her head and walked straight out of the ward door, locking it shut behind her. Immediately she both heard and felt James' metal fist barging against it in an attempt to break it open. Just then, a couple of doctors walked past and frowned at the commotion, stopping in their tracks to see if she needed help. Christie felt those forbidden hot salty tears bubble up again and she gave a sharp sniff as she tried to compose herself.
"Schedule him for another brain electrocution. He's starting to remember," she told them as calmly as she could, glancing back at the door which was now quivering under James' adamant weight.
"NO, NOT AGAIN, PLEASE NOT AGAIN! CHRISTIE DON'T LET THEM DO IT TO ME AGAIN, PLEASE!" Christie put all her might into ignoring these cries as the doctors nodded scheduled another session. She watched them walk away, biting her bottom lip so hard that it began to bleed.
She could barely believe what she just caused to happen; and she was well aware that she had probably made things ten times worse for James - but she had to stay on their side.
More to the point, she wanted him to forget that he had ever said that. She wanted for those harsh poisonous words to be wiped directly from his memory – so that maybe it would make it easier for her to forget them too.
…
The next time Christie saw James, her hair wasn't jet black anymore. She had washed the dye out and was back to her naturally silver ways once more.
James was sitting in his assigned bunk, staring blankly at the wall. A totally emotionless man now.
Christie cracked opened the metal door and this time, there was no recognition registering in his eyes. "Good evening," she gave him a small salute, watching him slowly reach into his coat pocket for what appeared to be a pistol. She raised her eyebrows, completely unfazed, and leaned against the wall as he studied her face intently. "The whole gun thing seems a tad dramatic, no? Bearing in mind they've only assigned you blanks because they're not that stupid?" Christie raised an eyebrow cockily, watching him subsequently loosen his grip on the weapon.
"What do you want?" James asked her coldly, standing up straight. "After all you did to me, what could you possibly want?" There was something about his tone that was rather dangerous, it was dripping with venom - but also oddly appealing.
Christie darted her tongue over her bottom lip as she felt her heartbeat start to rise.
"My god, what have they done to you?" she murmured as James slowly edged closer and closer to her. "Listen, I-"
"I still know who you are. I haven't forgotten," James growled, backing her up against the wall as his eyes grew darker.
"You do?" Christie hummed sceptically as she felt his warm breath tickle her neck. His hand rested on her waist.
"I won't ever forget you, Christie," James murmured, practically speaking directly into her neck. The vibration of his voice against her skin caused a shiver run down her spine. "No matter what they do to me, I just can't seem to wipe you out."
Christie knew she'd find this whole conversation seductive if she didn't think about how much blood he'd have shed by now.
All without him even realising.
"James? How many people have you killed?" she murmured to him quietly as his lips crept even closer to her neck.
"Nowhere near as many people as you," he answered softly. Christie released a sigh at his words – he had a solid point. She couldn't deny the fact that she was demonising him for doing a job that she did as a profession. But before she could speak again, James had finally moved his lips onto her own for the jugular. It was a kiss that she had expected to happen, but wasn't expecting to feel so beautiful. It was gentle but done with authority, but was over within several seconds – nowhere near slow enough. "I don't want to hurt you," he muttered against her own soft lips once they broke apart.
"No, see now you can't hurt me, I could hurt you though," Christie began, starting to shake her head defensively - but James hushed her before she could finish and kept his cold hand on her cheeks, steadying her head still.
"No you couldn't," he whispered firmly. "I have done some bad things, but I don't want to do them anymore. They think that they can get rid of everything I have ever known but every time they try, I make sure you are the last thing I think of so that you are the first thing I know when I come back round. Christie - I think I falling for you and I hate it, I'm sorry." James paused to allow a small hot tear trickle down his chiseled jaw and Christie wiped it away hastily with her thumb as he continued. "I hate it, because with every bullet I shoot I think of you. I feel like we can never go and have a normal life together because of who they've turned me into. I don't care about what happened to your old guy, it doesn't matter because I have you now and I want you to know that you have me. Isn't that all that truly matters?"
This speech baffled Christie to no end - this was happening too fast and she hadn't even registered her feelings toward James, let alone planned an entire future with the guy. But, instead of conveying this over to him, her mind accidentally drifted somewhere else.
Her mind went to Loki.
Perhaps it was because James had pretty much declared his love for her? Perhaps it was guilt towards the thought of moving on with someone else. Regardless, an image of the man she once loved flew into her head.
But it was one of him dying.
She quickly remembered Loki's last words to her. 'One son wants the throne too much, and the other not at all. Is this Odin's legacy?' Before she could marinate on that, her mind rushed her on to the last words that Odin said to her before she left Asgard. She didn't understand why, but she recalled the memory regardless. Odin had sat on that throne and said to her, 'One son wants the throne too much and the other not at all. Is this my legacy?'
Suddenly - it all made sense.
"He's alive!" Christie yelped, her face breaking out into a brilliant smile for the first time in over a year. It was so unusual that it actually ached her jaw. James frowned at her response, clearly confused and expecting a different reaction.
"Who's alive?" he asked slowly.
"Loki, my boyfriend, he's alive! He's alive and wanted me to figure it out, and I should've known but I've been so caught up in this and I-" Christie rambled on before cutting herself off and rushing out of the room. James was going to follow her but decided against it.
Instead he let out a yell that was mixed with pain, frustration and disappointment, the darker side of him coming back to consume him as if it had never left. What was the point?