Triskelion Building:
"10 of my best men, outsmarted by civilians. One of them being a woman."
The older man's tone seethed, white knuckling the glossy desktop as the battered agents stood at attention.
The wide computer monitor in front of Alexander Pierce depicted the successful escape of both Captain and Edith Rogers, further escalating his rage with each passing second.
It wasn't until one of the men dared to speak up, that Pierce pulled his eyes away from the running loop of security footage.
"With all due respect sir, she's quite strong and protects him religiously. It was impossible to isolate him."
Rumlow's words hung in the air and sparked a dark idea in the executive's mind. Turning his attention back to the monitor Pierce's gray eyes locked onto Edie's pixelated figure, pearly smile dripping with wicked intent.
"Maybe it's not him we should isolate."
-0-
Winter Soldier's POV:
Again I stared at the photographs, even though I'd already memorized every aspect of their faces.
His strong jaw and blue eyes, which held a distant sadness even through the stilled image. A pattern of freckles peppered her cheeks, wild mane of blackened hair meeting her shoulders. The longer I studied the glossy still, I noticed her face expelled this genuine kindness, as if she'd been waiting for you, and only you.
And though these two were nothing more than just another file for me to close, another order for me to follow, they both held this familiarity that I couldn't quite pinpoint, neurons in my mind struggling to sift through clouded bits of memories littering my subconscious.
Recon.
That's all this mission was to be, Pierce insisted.
Do not engage and do not lose sight of them.
Perched above the city, one could see everything. Currents of bodies snaking through the maze of streets, starting their day much as I was.
With a duty, a job to complete.
I'd trailed the targets to a stoic building, gray and rigid as it touched the sky. I was given little detail on these two, though I could already tell they were romantically involved just through their body language. Never more than an arms length away from each other, chemistry obvious.
I stepped through the automatic doors with a ducked head, welcomed into a cloud of sterile detergent and was that…a tinge of death? Something every hospital seemed to hold.
Squinting against the stark whiteness of it all I found their backs in the crowd, but kept my distance. I still couldn't shake this feeling, one that budded as soon as Pierce presented the file. So consuming that it began to blur my usually razor sharp focus. It was as if my subconscious was playing a game of its own. Unearthing hazy fragments of memories I don't remember making.
Shaking off the wispy hands of distraction when a laugh ghosted my ear, airy and familiar, it carried with it the tart scent of lemons. I whipped around, ready for a fight but was met with only air.
Why was my heart pounding?
A distant scuffle from behind caught my attention and reminded me of reality.
Shit. I'd let my guard down.
My eyes wildly darted through the thinning crowd, finding them in a hushed altercation with a new figure. Red hair fell from beneath her hood as they cornered her backward.
Swiftly I ducked behind the cover of a vending machine, just as a group of chatty nurses stalled for a snack. From the concealed position I tuned out the women's cackling banter and narrowed my focus in on reading the blond male's lips. From his tenses profile I could tell he was irate. Iron jaw flexed and imploring a harsh interrogation towards the redhead, but I also couldn't miss the gentle hold he kept on the Healer's hand, as if she may disappear in a blink of an eye.
In this line of work, you became an expert at reading people. Reading their demeanor, their mannerisms and soon you knew their next move before they did.
But what you didn't do was make it a habit of learning people's names.
But I knew his: Steve Rogers, born July 4th 1918 in Brooklyn, New York.
My attention strayed from the movement of his lips to the curve of his face, noticing the messy nature of sandy tresses falling across his brow. A sudden fleeting scene clouded my vision, stealing my attention.
Two young boys sprinting through a littered street, makeshift kite swerving in the cloudless sky above.
"Look Buck! We did it!" A pair of blue eyes gleamed with a gap toothed grin.
And as soon as it appeared, the memory vanished but left behind a humming headache.
Who were these people?
Deep breath. In and out. Focus.
The fluorescent light above flickered and reflected a silvery ray as the redhead held up a flash drive to Steve.
A tinge of nausea began to settle in the pit of my stomach as the buzzing in my head increased. Soon accompanied with a dull ache in my shoulder, just above my heart. Before I could collect myself they were on the move for the exit. I found myself struggling to keep up with their quickened pace, all my senses screaming at once.
The dull ache flared to a severe stabbing and I found myself clutching at my shoulder desperately for relief, all the while trying to keep a safe distance. But soon, swearing I was caught when Edith turned abruptly, I snaked behind a corner. It was then that I noticed she too was palming her own shoulder.
Like a stone in a rushing stream, the Healer stayed rooted to the glossy tile. Haunting jade eyes muddied with a furrowed brow.
Was I compromised?
Couldn't be, she would have already made a move by now. Alerted the others.
Then something clicked.
She didn't see me.
She sensed me.
I read the conflict racing across her ivory features when Steve halted in his tracks, beckoning her urgently.
She gave one last scan of the paled hall, before retreating toward the door and I felt myself breath again. With a stumbled pace I followed their trail out into the city once more.
The crisp air of the bustling street whipped past my cheeks with a burning coolness. I made it out just in time to watch their black sedan merge into the lanes of traffic.
I felt my body finally succumb to this phantom illness, falling back into the shadows I clawed furiously to peel off my leather jacket.
Ripping down the material across my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of a silvery circle branded into the skin just above my heart.
Had that always been there?
The bitter taste of blood and gritty soil coated my mouth and soon I was ambushed by a shouted command.
Was that German?
But there wasn't a soul around me, at least not one that even cared to take notice of the rabid man hunched into the alley. Panting rapidly I collapsed against the rough bricks as a new rush of memories made themselves known just as a lemony scented darkness engulfed me.
-0-
Steve's POV:
I shifted the glasses up the bridge of my nose, still getting use to wearing them. But what I was really trying to do was not stare at Edie.
Natasha had picked our disguises with the help of one of Tony's many financial advantages. We were to blend in with the use of popular styles worn by everyday Americans as we entered the mall. We had mulled over the idea of reading the flash drive contents at Tony's safe house we were currently stowed away at but the impending collateral damage pushed us towards the more public route.
I snuck another sly glance at Edie's denim clad backside, the tight material hugging her hips in an acid washed skinny style. If that wasn't distracting enough, Natasha had picked her out a "crop top" that fought to keep my eyes wife's ample chest under wraps. The lack of material also gave way to reveal the silvery scar that was now forever present against the curve of Edie's waist. A souvenir from the battle in New York, when she had insisted on healing me despite her compromised defenses.
I'd seen it countless times, trailed my lips against the paled flesh tattoo that commemorated her sacrifice and commitment to me.
The first time I noticed it, I felt sick, a cool sweat blanketing me when I inferred its origin. It wasn't because I thought it was a flaw, or that Edie was somehow less attractive in any way. She was gorgeous. Radiant in my eyes, both inside and out.
No, I was overcome with grief to know that I had caused this, I had weakened her and left behind a jagged swipe of paled flesh as proof.
She'd read the horror in my expression that day and heard the hitch in my voice when I asked the looming question,
"Is that…"
Was all I could manage to get out, the breath escaping me.
"A badge of honor, worn proudly." Edie inserted, assurance reaching those jade irises. Her hand engulfed mine, steady and gentle as she trailed my fingers the length of it.
"This place?" Edie suggested, peering into the electronics store as she adjusted her maroon colored beanie.
Following Natasha's lead into the store front, we soon found ourselves idly standing by as the the well versed Agent maneuvered through the many applications on the computer screen.
I couldn't help but feel the need to keep looking over my shoulder, suspicion a permanent resident now in the back of my mind.
"First rule of being on the run, don't run. Always walk, be cool Rogers." Natasha murmured, never taking her eyes away from the glossy screen.
"I think if I tried to run in these shoes they'd fall off."
I turned to Edie's giggle, eyes scanning between our newly acquired footwear.
"Really? I like mine." Edith hummed, admiring the suede material of her…UGGs? I believe that's what Nat called them.
"Do you? Well maybe you'll just have to start dressing modern more often." I teased, watching her nose scrunch at the thought before she beckoned me in for a whisper.
"I'm not sure if you noticed this or not Teddybear, but these clothes are a bit…revealing."
I fought the urge to kiss her right then, hearty chuckle passing my lips instead.
Had I noticed? What hadn't I noticed?
My hands were itching to touch her from the moment she'd step out into the hall at the safe house, curves illuminated by the tight material and glowing lights above.
But before I could breath life to any of those roaming thoughts Natasha spoke up.
"Well, ladies and gents. Looks like we'll be having company soon."
My mind refocused, danger looming at the door.
"How long do we have?" I was afraid of the answer before I even asked.
"Hmmm, I'd say about 9 and half minutes from…now."
The click of the drive into the computer set in with a cooling shiver between us all.
The countdown began.
I don't believe Edie or myself were quite following Natasha's jargon as she muddled through the contents on the drive. That was until a name popped up, a location.
Wheaton, New Jersey.
-0-
"Since when does Captain America condone stealing cars?"
I didn't even have to take my eyes off the painted pavement to hear the smirk in Natasha's voice.
"Since I know what's good for me, you think I'm going to argue with this one?"
I nodded towards the back seat, watching from the corner of my eye as Edie shook out her black waves from the confines of the knit hat.
"Plus we're only borrowing it, Natasha."
I received a winking grin in the rearview, Edie's teasing tone mocking my words.
"So Nat', speaking of what's good for you. How about you? Anyone new?"
Edie pried for some girly gossip, dark waves cascading over my shoulder as she leaned in eagerly.
"Hmmm, not exactly. Hard to find a guy that's okay with my…line of work. I usually just make something up."
"That's a tough way to live." I thought aloud, watching the sun dip lower in the sky.
It would be nightfall by the time we reached the destination, unaware of what exactly waited for us at the end of the those coordinates hopefully the shadows would be on our side.
"Yeah, but it's an easy way not to die."
Natasha answered cooly, gaze locked on the shifting screen of her phone.
And suddenly I felt very sorry for her, had she ever been her true self with anyone? I understood the life of an agent was one of sensitive information and high reward, but what did you have to sacrifice for it?
Did she trust anyone the way I trusted Edie? To have a true counterpart, one that had your back at all times and that you would literally trust with your life.
"Wellll…maybe it doesn't have to be so hard, I think there's someone that is already okay with your line of work." Edie hummed a knowing tone, ruby lips curving upward in an alluring smirk.
"A certain...doctor." She further elaborated, wiggling a manicured brow.
"Bruce? Ohhh no, we're just friends." Natasha immediately dejected, but I noticed a flicker of emotion come across the Agent. Was she blushing?
Edie always knew how to lighten the mood, here we were fugitives of our own country and she was playing matchmaker.
The truck's tires crunched against the gravel as it eased to a stop in front of the rusted gate that read: Camp Leigh.
"How do you know this place again?"
I briefly registered Natasha's question as she rounded the truck's front end. But I couldn't answer, fixed in a memory haunted trance.
I had expected to feel a sense of sentiment when we arrived, but I hadn't prepared myself to be so affected with nostalgia. Stunned into silence.
Had it really been so long since I had been here? This place where it all began.
Empty to the public eye but a homecoming for me, welcomed by the ghosts of my past as they came to life the further we ventured into the forgotten camp.
"He was trained here, as were some of the men I'd met over there ." Edie answered in my absence, picking up on my distracted state.
The voice of my drill sergeant ghosted my conscience with a vivid command and I was met face to face with my former self.
Rogers fall in! Rogers!
Cheeks flushed and panting hard, my uniform swam on my scrawny figure as I struggled to keep up.
How did I get here? How had so much happened in the time that I was gone and yet it felt like just yesterday that I was in this very spot. Scrambling up the ropes and crawling elbow deep in mud beneath the serrated teeth of the barbed wire pits.
Just when I thought it would all consume me, drag me back into the daunting thoughts of what I lost, Edie filed in beside me with a silent comfort. The ghostly scene before me faded quickly when those jade eyes glowed in the reflection of the moon and found me in the shadows.
A soft touch against my hand gently pulled me back to reality and I couldn't take my eyes off her, the haloed moon painted her features in a paled hue.
Natasha's assessment from afar were mere muffles to me as I stared longingly at the welcoming smile of my wife.
How'd a weakling from Brooklyn end up with such a treasure?
It was as I craned down to taste the skin of her hand in mine that I noticed it.
The ammunition building.
Without another thought I was crossing the courtyard, tugging Edie closely to my side.
"Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards of the building is in the wrong place." I breathed my conclusion, rationalizing my sudden hot pursuit to the confused women at my side.
We crept into the musty atmosphere, welcomed by rows of abandoned desks and scattered documents. But I couldn't pull my eyes off the familiar winged crest illuminated under the flickering fluorescent light.
This was a SHIELD headquarters?
We'd soon found ourselves descending through a secret passageway and into an awaiting elevator. Cautiously we entered the lower level, cluttered with electronic equipment varying in sizes and snaked with countless wires.
Before I could voice my opinion, Natasha was clicking the flash drive into the open mouth of the blinking black box placed on the counter top. The screens around us soon awoke with a melody of clicks and a robotic hum.
"Initiate system?" The mechanical voice questioned across the flickering monitor.
With nimble fingers Natasha typed across the keyboard and inputted a command.
"Shall we play a game?...it's a movie-"
Edie threw up her hand in protest.
"Don't remind me." She gave a physical shiver of disgust at the plot of the movie.
I was about to voice my agreement when again the computer spoke but this time there was something different, something familiar.
"Rogers, Steven. Born July 4th 1918."
I watched the camera lense pan from myself to Natasha, verbalizing her identity as well. But that was a mere muffle compared to Edie's gasping shuffle backward into one of the heavy towers.
My attention snapped to her direction, brow furrowed at the sheer horror painting her ivory features but soon it all clicked just as the camera too locked its attention on the visibly shaken Edie.
"Erskine, Edith. Born September 28th, 1920. Ah, yes we knew who you were even before you did. How nice to see you again, Fraulein. Did you miss me?" The mechanical voice taunted in a distinct accent.
Dr. Zola.
I felt the heat rising within, boiling my blood with every passing second. I could read the tears welling in Edie's eyes, threatening to spill over the more the pixelated face continued to provoke her.
"No..it can't be."
I barely recognized Edie's voice, weakened and hoarse with shock.
Edie and I shared mostly everything. Countless stories, memories, a bed. But I had to admit she rarely spoke about exactly what she endured as a POW, and I hadn't pressed her about it. Only made sure to be there when she was plagued with vivid nightmares that woke her in a cold sweat or when a certain face in a crowd had her halted on the sidewalk in a dazed state.
But this was as if one of those nightmares had come to life, the look on Edie's face had my heart in pieces.
I concluded that all those demons and haunting ghosts that scarred Edie's pure soul were caused by the very man speaking. He was sneaking his way back into her conscious and crippling Edie with every syllable.
"Ah but it is. Weren't you listening to me? When I had you strapped to that table, when you were nothing more than my lab rat. Begging for us not to harm him. You'd do anything for the safety of your precious Sergeant. You must remember." Zola seethed, breathing life to the very memories Edie tried so hard to bury.
My beautiful Edie. My strong, fearless Healer was reduced to a quivering leaf by this weasel of a man, hiding behind an encrypted software.
"I'll..I'll never escape the claws of HYDRA." Edie recited the answer Zola was looking for in a tear filled whisper.
And despite the artifical face, Zola emitted a satisfied smugness.
"That's right, Jude."
I watched Edie stiffen at the word, and though I wasn't fluent in German, that was a word I'd quickly learned while overseas whether I wanted to or not.
Jew.
"That's enough!" I growled, squaring my shoulders and obscuring the cowardly doctor's view of Edie.
"How are you here? You died." Natasha stepped in, swiftly redirecting the conversation.
"Look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972 I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body, my mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain."
Zola's words fell against my back as I turned to Edie.
"Are you alright?" I spanned a hand across her flushed cheek, bringing her from the depth of her dark thoughts.
"I just…" Edie searched for the words in the steady rise and fall of my chest.
"Wasn't expecting to be blindsided by the past?"
I watched Edie's glossy waves bounce with a buckling nod before I engulfed her into a protective embrace+.
"Me either. But you're safe and he can't hurt you, Doll. He's gotta go through me first. They have no control over you anymore." I vowed, rubbing a pattern of soothing circles against her back.
"Um, Steve, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic. 30 seconds tops."
It just keeps getting better, doesn't it?
I looked up just in time to catch the vaulted doors moving to lock us in, and with a quick lunge of my shield I tried to wedge the iron mouth open.
"I am afraid I have been stalling, Captain. Just remember, cut of one head and two more shall appear." Dr. Zola gave a last hail to HYDRA before all the screens blackened in a silence.
Sighing in defeat when my shield bounced back with a forceful speed, I caught a glimpse of the grated vent in the floor.
Without a word I hauled off the steel bars and beckoned everyone inside.
"Get down, I'll try to contain the blast." Edie urged, refusing to join us in the shallow cover. I noticed the twitch of her wrists ignite the glow in her fingers.
Knowing I didn't have time to argue, I lunged upward and swiftly snaked an arm around Edie's waist and pulled her under the protective layer of my body.
"Not this time, Gorgeous." My voice murmured against her ear just as the building above us was consumed in a fiery blast and a hailstorm of debris began to rain down.
-0-
Bucky's POV:
Mud sank beneath my boots, rain pelting harshly against the tin roofed homes that lined the small village around me.
The sun fought to surface above, caged behind a cluster of charcoal colored clouds that painted the town in a haze.
I'd been here before.
That nagging familiarity was back and it beckoned me urgently that I'd lost something.
Someone.
I took in the scenery before me, scanning the deserted streets and passed an abandoned shop window when I saw it.
My reflection.
A neatly cropped haircut, crisp and decorated uniform that read…Barnes?
I glanced down at my attire and halted everything, but this time not at the presence of something but rather the absence.
No metal arm.
I flexed my left hand, studying the blue road maps just beneath the skin that flowed life through my newly returned limb.
Before I could further inspect my altered appearance, a voice surfaced.
Strained and waning.
"Bucky…"
Before I knew it, my legs were moving on their own in the direction of the feminine cry for help.
"James! Please!"
I picked up my pace, desperately seeking out her location but each time I seemed to get close, the voice faded further away and slipped from my grasp.
It was as I scrambled down one of the countless side streets that I caught sight of a crimson pattern against the muddy ground. Following the trail of blood drops, I was brought to what remained of a home, bruised and battered by a strangers' war. I peeked through the doorway, squinting against the stream of clouded sun and showering rain that pooled from the gaping hole in the roof above.
My eyes scanned the shadowy room, assessing that a brute struggle had taken place here but my gaze halted at the sight of the motionless body that lay crumpled against the floor. The sun breaking through just enough to catch the gleam of a shiny swastika pinned to the corpses chest pocket. A muffled rattle from the corner broke my attention away from the unidentified enemy soldier.
"Nightingale..?"
My silhouette cast further through the archway as I called out a name before my brain could even register. I took a step closer and felt a fierceness invade my chest, a mixture of panic and rage.
Her quivering form crouched against the rubbled bricks, eyes clamped shut and splattered with blood.
The sight of the red liquid coating her uniform and ivory skin made me sick, fear rising at the thought of her injured.
"Doll, are you alright?"
Instantly I threw my hands up when she shuffled backward in fear, assuring that I meant no harm. The shock that gripped her conscious was obvious, adrenaline still pulsing through her veins.
"Hey, it's okay it's just me. It's Buck."
I crouched to her level, slinging off the rifle at my back, I made sure to keep my hands up and visible.
She reached from the shadows and it was then that I recognized her fully. Emerald eyes glazed with exhausted tears, pouty lips buckling as she struggled to speak.
Edie.
"Buc-" Her voice hitched.
The muted sun revealed the bruising against her throat and tattered material of her uniform.
My fear boiled to anger and I fought the urge to beat the already bloody corpse, to seek my own revenge.
"Here."
I slowly began to unbutton my shirt, slipping it off I kept my distance to not startle her again.
I watched as a delicate hand reach out, gripping the olive material she snaked it over her torn uniform. But I felt my heart sink as Edie's trembling fingers struggled with the buttons.
"May I?"
Black waves nodded slowly but her eyes fell to the scuffed leather of my boots. Though she was just inches away from me, so close I could feel her shaky breaths, Edie was miles away.
"Are you hurt?" I kept my voice as gentle as my touch, working my way up the buttons.
Again Edie gave a silent shake of her head, eyes studying the rise and fall of my chest through the thin undershirt.
"This is all…his..blood?"
Her chin buckled at the mention of the attacker. I fought the sudden urge to wrap myself around her, shield this delicate flower from the harsh whirlwinds of the outside world.
"You're safe now, Edie..I'm so sorry.."
What could I say? I couldn't take away the pain she felt, the trauma she'd endured. All the words clogged my throat.
"This will never happen again, I promise. I'm going to protect you."
A pair of warm hands clasp over my own as I fastened the last button, prompting me to shift my gaze to meet her.
"James..tak-take me home."
My expression softened, watching the tears slip down her soot smudged cheeks, without another word I slung my gun across my back and snaked my arms around Edie, cradling her protectively. A trail of bloody finger prints followed Edie's hands as she gripped me tighter, taking shelter against the crook of my neck with a heated sob. I whispered soothing words into the softness of her hair, kissed by a lingering scent of citrus.
I'd found what I was looking for, I'd saved her.
A sense of content bloomed in my chest and I was about to step back out into the rain soaked town when something turned me back around.
Or rather someone.
Taking the place of the Nazi officer sprawled against the rubbled floor, was another familiar face.
A beaten and bloodied Steve Rogers.
His steely blue eyes glazed over and locked onto my horrored expression.
"I trusted you…I trusted you both.."
A cough stained his full lips with a crimson trail of blood.
A shock bolted me upright, panting furiously I struggled to catch my breath. I was welcomed back to reality by the rigid atmosphere of my room, cell is a better word to use. Housing only a bed, desk and bathroom, it was meant to make me feel at home and yet all it did was remind me I was nothing more than a utensil for them. Stored neatly away until needed once more.
A cool sweat covered my trembling body and soaked my sheets, instinctively I glanced down at my arms that once cradled Edie's body but was met with only air and the metallic gleam of my left arm. The absence of her left a void in my heart, one I didn't know existed until she was taken. Steve's waning expression haunted me in the darkness, his last words still ghosting my conscience.
Before I could even process what was happening the room was bathed in a blinding ray of fluorescent lighting and the bolted door buzzed open.
My eyes fought to adjust to the sudden light, blotchy and unfocused I made out Pierce's face.
"Oh good, you're awake. You have a mission."
A heavy folder fell with a soft thud against the crumpled blankets.
"Extraction and this time try not to lose them. We wouldn't want that type of sloppy behavior becoming a habit, now would we? Get him up, get him prepped."
A shaky hand reached out and dared to reveal the contents of the folder. A shiver climbed my spine when the photos fell from the shuffled stack of documents.
Soon with a quick snap of Pierce's fingers the dark guards standing idle by door jumped to action and were moving to haul me away.
"I know them."
My words fell against the back of the older man's pristine suit, halting his feet with a muffled squeak.
He didn't even dare to face me, only took a deep inhale and barked a final order before slinking out.
"Wipe him."
-0-
After, nearly escaping death and HYDRA agents the trio fled back to the safe house. But not before stopping off at a certain paratrooper's house, with little persuasion needed they soon added a fourth person to their group.
Sam Wilson.
Taking a moment to get cleaned up and reconvene the group began mulling over their newly acquired information and discussing their next step, but what they hadn't disclosed to Natasha was the existence of a particular doctor also staying at the safe house.
"Bruce? What are you doing here?" Natasha puzzled, suddenly very aware of her disheveled appearance.
"Same as you, laying low. Ever since the whole New York…situation. I've been kind of a hot topic in the science department and not in the good way. Tony let's me stay here from time to time." Bruce informed, shy demeanor heightened in front of the red head.
Bruce was well aware of the circumstances they all were under, he'd agreed to stay back at the base as backup in case their plan went south.
Steve toweled off his hands and felt the ache in his muscles slowly fading as he shrugged on a fresh shirt. He soon caught sight of Edie in the reflection of the mirror, a distant look on her face as she adjusted her blouse. Returning the towel to the rack, the soldier crossed the plush carpeting and found his spot beside her.
"Hey." Pale blue eyes studied the Healer's profile, noting the tight grip wrenched around the soft leather jacket held in her lap.
"He called me Erskine." Edie reflected, searching the neatly furnished room for the answers.
"How..? How did they know?"
They. Johann Schmidt.
Steve remembered back to the night before his procedure, the accented words of Dr. Abraham Erskine depicting his life on the run from Schmidt. Had the doctor known of Edie? Had Schmidt extracted that information and used it against Erskine, to get what he wanted?
After the last few days Steve had learned HYDRA had their claws in everything, blooming a cancer in the very heart of SHIELD from within. He wouldn't doubt that Red Skull had the means to hunt Edie down and take her hostage, knowing who's blood ran through her veins and the power she held.
Steve was use to taking action, of having a plan but for the first time in a long time, as he stared at the lost expression of the woman beside him the Captain felt a looming sense of helplessness.
The words formed on Steve's lips and before he could stop himself they were out in the open, hanging between them.
"Back there, was Zola talking about Bucky? Did you sacrifice yourself to save him?"
Edie took a moment, breathing through the emotional wounds that scarred deep.
"Yes, I agreed to undergo these experiments as long…as long as they ensured his safety. I would have done anything to save him."
Steve watched the anguish flicker across Edie's face in a stern gaze towards the floor.
"They did..horrible, unspeakable things to me. But-But nothing was worse than seeing the pain on his face. And all that was brought back as soon as I heard Zola's voice. Maybe he's right, maybe I'll never escape them."
Steve quickly took Edie into his arms, forcing her emerald eyes to look at him.
"We're going to stop them Edie, I promise. What you did, what you sacrificed won't be for nothing. They won't win."
It was time to snuff out HYDRA once and for all.
-0-
Sam gripped the steering wheel, weaving the van through traffic as quickly as he could without raising suspicion. They had to get to Triskelion before HYDRA realized Sitwell's disappearance, he was their key through the DNA scans.
"Did we really have to use a minivan? Not exactly practical for a time sensitive mission." Natasha exhaled in a mono tone.
"Hey, this is very roomy and I have you know I'm doing 65." Sam huffed.
"Whoa, slow down Speed Racer." Natasha scoffed, pulling a laugh from the group at Sam's expense.
"How long until they launch the Hellicarriers?" Edie leaned up from the back seat.
"Not sure exactly, could be hours, days, weeks. Hopefully we'll find out once we have access to their system. Top priority is to take down those carriers." Steve's strong voice answered, craning his neck to place a kiss against Edie's cheek.
"HYDRA doesn't like leaks." Sitwell suddenly blurted, sweat beading against his brow.
"So why don't you try putting a cork in it." Sam barked with a stern gaze through the rearview.
"Ooo someone's sassy today." Edie sang, sending the Falcon a wink in the mirror.
Opening his mouth to reply when a thump was heard against the roof above. In a blur of glass and metal Sitwell was torn from his seat and thrown into oncoming traffic. Edie sprung from her seat, shoving Steve against the passenger door and clear of the line of bullets that ripped through the van just as one grazed her arm. Steve braced Edie protectively against his chest, her legs tangled around his waist as he snaked an arm to pull the emergency break.
The sound of screeching tires echoed across the highway. The metal armed assassin flew from the roof and tumbled across the hot asphalt in front of them, just as another car smashed into their van pushing them further down the busy road. In a flash the masked man recovered, leaping onto the hood he ripped the steering wheel from Sam's grip, his silver hand grasping towards Edie. Natasha let off a few shots in his direction, managing to frag the metal arm enough he pulled back.
"Edie, take the shield and Sam. You know what to do!" Rogers instructed watching her black waves nod.
She felt the cool metal slip across her forearm as Steve broke off the ragged remains of the passenger door. Steve gripped Natasha's hand, pulling her against the door before leaping through the gap.
"Let's go soldier." Edie moved towards the wind whipping hole, extending her hand with a weak smile.
"You're smiling? At a time like this? Mrs. Rogers you got a weird sense of humor!" Sam shook his head, and before he knew it they were huddled together against the metal disk, skating down the city streets.
Scattering in all directions, Edie found herself knelt behind a parked car. Craning to check for the position of the assailant. Horror pooled in Edie's chest as she caught the scene in the windows reflection, a familiar blonde falling from the bridge and into a moving bus. Several heavily armed men had surfaced, peppering the air with countless rounds of bullets.
"Steve!"
Fear gave away her position.
Panic gripped Edie's throat as she watched the masked man turn slowly from his perched position on the bridge, metal arm gleaming in the burning sun. In hopes of drawing him away from the rest of her team, Edie stepped into full view before bolting in the opposite direction.
"Она моя." He growled in a monotone, eyes locked on the head of black hair weaving farther down the crowded streets.
She's mine.
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