Chapter Three

"Cap?!"

Steve tilted the shield to cover her before jerking his head to the side. "Get behind the headstone," he ordered as a bullet ricocheted off of the vibranium. He moved to cover her as she did so, only to be knocked off his feet as a bullet impacted his kevlar protected thigh. "MOVE!" he yelled as she ducked behind the headstone.

"Cap!" someone yelled again.

But Emily's attention snapped to Carter who was lying on the ground making gurgling sounds. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as his panicked eyes met hers, confusion written across his face. "Cart!"

"Stay put!" Steve snapped as she started to crawl towards Carter. He shoved her slightly until her back was against the tombstone again before reaching for his friend and pulling him closer. "You're going to be okay," he assured him as he maneuvered Carter so that his head was in Em's lap. She reached down to smooth back his hair as she nodded.

"You're gonna be okay," she echoed. Steve grabbed her hand and pressed it hard against Carter's neck.

"Keep pressure on this, okay? I'll be back."

"No!" Em screamed, reaching out to catch his arm as he turned away.

Steve turned back to look at her for a moment before shaking off her hand and wrapping his around the back of her neck, pulling her forward for a bruising kiss. "Keep your head down," he ordered. Em's fingers scraped along the kevlar as he turned and ran towards the shooter.

"-Kay?" Carter grunted, his fingers twitching under hers.

"We're gonna be fine," she forced a weak smile.

"Bad..."

"You're going to be fine," she said, more forcefully this time, before turning to wipe her face on the shoulder of the bulletproof vest.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. The sound of gunshots and bellowed orders echoed through the once quiet cemetery as agents rushed forward. The tac team swarmed the area and the medic joined Em and Carter, quickly pushing her hands away to do a quick survey of his injury before pressing gauze to it and winding a bandage around his throat. After checking for a spinal injury and demanding to know if Em was hurt, he loaded Carter onto a collapsible stretcher and he along with two teammates carried Cart away.

"Come on!" an agent urged, thrusting a hand into Em's face and gesturing for her to take it. She gulped down a breath before putting her blood covered hand in his and allowing him to drag her to her feet. She stumbled alongside him as the moved back towards the entrance to the cemetery until he pushed them to the left towards the gravel path, making her high heel sink into the grass. When he tried to tug her to keep moving, her ankle wrenched and she fell to one knee, one hand thrown out to break her fall while the other clung to his arm. Gravel bit into her hand and knee as she grunted in pain. "Come on!" he ordered again, hauling her to her feet.

Abandoning her shoe, she limped alongside him, adrenaline keeping her from feeling the rocks underfoot. When a bullet whizzed overhead, though, he shoved her back off the path and pushed her down behind a tombstone before spinning and returning fire. She shrieked as the stone in front of her face exploded, bits of marble pelting her face and cracking the plastic lenses of her glasses.

"You okay?!" the agent demanded as he returned fired.

"Y-yeah," Em nodded, wiping her forehead with her clean hand and staring at the blood when she pulled it away. His eyes darted towards her for a split second before returning to the front as he swept the gun back and forth. After a moment he crouched as well and stared at her.

"Run towards the parking lot - S.H.I.E.L.D.'s left some cars for us and I want you to get in the first one. The keys are under the gas cap. Whatever you do, whatever you hear, keep running. I'm right behind you."

"O-okay," Em nodded from where she was pressed against the remains of the headstone.

"On my mark. Three... Two... One...Mark!" The agent jumped up as Em lurched to her feet awkwardly. She kept as low as she could, hobbling towards to entrance. When gun shots rang out, she shrieked and threw her arms over her head but continued running at the agent's barked orders to do so.

She kept going as she reached the parking lot, feeling terribly exposed as she hurried towards the first SUV. She limped around the car to the driver's side, resisting the urge to lean against it and catch her breath before reaching for the gas cap. Emily struggled with it for a minute before it opened and a set of keys fell to the ground. After snatching them up, she turned to see where the agent was.

And noticed that she was alone.

Emily peeked around the back of the car but didn't catch sight of anyone. The echoing sound of men screaming seemed muted, and it might have just been hope that made her think she could pick out Steve's voice through the cacophony.

And then closer, much closer, she heard the sound of boots thudding on asphalt.

Her heart leapt to her throat as she crept along the side of the SUV. The footsteps were too slow, too unhurried to be the agent. It was almost as though the person were taking an evening stroll rather than walking through the hell they'd found themselves in.

Trying to muffle the sound of her panting, Em pressed her wrist to her mouth as she tried to glimpse the man through the tinted back windows but found that it was too dark to see much of anything. Instead she forced herself to listen to his gait, trying to figure out where he was as he moved. It proved difficult over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears but she thought she heard him moving down the line of SUVs.

Emily's hand was shaking badly as she tried to manually unlock the door, too afraid to use the automatic locks least the lights give away her position. Were it her own car, she'd curse her clumsiness as she kept scratching the paint before accomplishing the task with two hands wrapped tightly around the key.

The sound of the locks disengaging was loud in her ears, and her heart stopped when she heard the boots stop their progress away from her. And then there was silence. Crouching, Em looked around before ducking down to look under the car to see where the boots had gone. When she looked down the row of tires, she stifled a gasp when she finally caught sight of them.

The person was two cars away and coming to her side.

Quickly, Emily dropped to her stomach and rolled under the car, pressing her mouth to her arm to keep from breathing too loudly. It felt childish, like she was playing hide and seek with Tuck when she was little and he wasn't playing the too cool high school brother. But unlike Tuck, this person wasn't going to wonder loudly where she was hiding while pacing back and forth, ignoring the noises that gave her hiding spot away.

Time seemed to slow down as the boots got closer. The man - and she could tell it was a man by the shoe size - was silent in his approach. Emily suddenly felt hyper aware. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her lungs screaming for more oxygen as she tried to stifle her breathing. Blood was dripping down her face, mingling with sweat and the tears she'd been unable to keep from falling. She could see all the little cracks and rivets in the asphalt, the shimmer of oil leaking from the car engine, the dirt and blood caked on her hands. But sounds...she blocked them all out and instead focused on those boots.

It was stupid that, in those last few moments just before she knew she was going to be found, that her brain decided to land on one thought: her last meal was going to be overcooked chicken parmesan and cheap wine.

Em nearly laughed at the ridiculousness. Of all things to fixate one, of all the things she still had left to do before she died, that was it? She couldn't remember what the last thought she'd had before passing out had been when she was shot and nearly bled to death, but God, was this what her brain's MO was? Pull up some inane fact to take away the sheer terror of what she was about to face?

A fresh wave of tears stung her eyes and her nose started to run - with blood or mucus she wasn't sure. The boots paused right beside her, so close that she could reach out and touch the strap going across the top of his foot.

This was it. This was how she was going to die - hiding under a car like a scared little girl, too stupid to listen to her boyfriend when he told her it was too dangerous to come. Her parents were going to be furious, and she wondered how the school would break it to her students. They'd have to cancel the exam she'd scheduled for Wednesday - it wouldn't be fair to test them on material when some might actually give a shit that she died. And her group of grad students! She was supposed to have been critiquing a chapter of Mandy's dissertation this weekend - maybe Steve would grab it from her bookshelf and give it back when he cleaned out her office. Steve...she hoped that he wouldn't beat himself up too much for this because he had warned her, given her so many chances to go back home. And she'd ruined his proposal by shooting down the house!

When the boots turned and continued down the line of cars, Em allowed herself to lift her head, taking a slightly deeper breath and tracking the man's movements. She wiped her nose on the back of her arm as she turned and followed his path until the feet disappeared. And then she waited.

After what felt like five minutes, Emily swiveled on her stomach to look around one last time before slowly shifting to the side. She kept glancing around as she pulled herself out from under the car, grimacing at the noise of the kevlar dragging along the ground. Once free, she jumped to her feet and glanced around before opening the car door and getting in, gently closing the door and thanking god that the inside lights hadn't turned on. The key scraped against the switch as she tried to start the car. Once the key finally slid home she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ahhh!" Em screamed as the window was broken. Glass pelted her shoulder and face before she could throw up an arm to protect herself. There was a metallic screech as door was torn off of its hinges, and Emily scrambled to the other side of the car. The man tossed the door away as easily if it were made of cardboard and his free hand shot out to grab her injured ankle as she reached for the passenger's side door, causing her to shriek in pain. In a quick movement, he jerked her back roughly while pulling a gun from the holster between his shoulderblades and leveled it on her. "P-please don't!" she sobbed, holding up her trembling hands from where she was wedged between the shifter and arm rest. "Please!"

His blue eyes ringed with grease paint studied her for a moment, his long hair tossed in the gentle wind. Some sort of mask covered the lower half of his face, distorting his features. When her eyes darted away from his to the gun, she saw that the finger curled around the trigger were silver. "Please don't kill me," she begged, meeting his gaze again. His eyebrow twitched slightly before he started to lower the gun.

Emily screamed as shots rang out, echoing loudly in the car. She twisted to press her face to the back of the passenger's seat as the window above her head shattered. When the hand on her ankle lifted, she chanced a glance. The man was still standing there, gun leveled at something over her head. His eyes slowly moved to meet hers and held them.

"Yбегать," the man growled.

And then he turned and walked away.

After half a heartbeat, Em forced herself to move. She pushed herself up and wiggled back into the driver's seat. Thankfully the engine roared to life as soon as she turned the key; she slammed the car into drive and gunned it, not even slowing down as she neared the wooden gate. It splintered across the front of the SUV as she swung onto the road, headed to the one place she knew she'd be safe.

OOO

"Hey, Ma'am, are you okay?" a man in running gear asked as Em hobbled away the car. She'd thrown it into the first available spot near the National Mall and made her way to the Air and Space museum. Her whole body ached as she tried to force herself to keep moving. "Ma'am! Hey!" When a hand landed on her arm, Emily spun and lashed out. The man jerked backwards and shook his head. "Hey, hey, I'm not trying to hurt you!"

"Leave me alone!" Em shrieked, her voice edging towards hysterics. She shook off his grip and kept moving but he stepped in front of her again and held up his hands.

"Hey, let me just call someone. You look pretty beat up."

"I'm fine," she said, trying to sidestep him. He shifted to block her.

"Lady, you don't look fine. Just let me get you to the hospital or call the cops - whoever did this to you - "

"I'm fine!" she screamed. This time he let her go, but she heard him on the phone as she hobbled away, probably calling to report the crazy woman he'd just encountered.

Emily nearly collapsed with relief as she neared the museum. She withdrew her lanyard from her purse and swiped her access card before falling into the building and pulling the glass doors closed behind her. It was somewhat creepy being there alone, but she'd spent enough nights working late that she knew where to go.

Her remaining high heel clicked on the floor as she made her way to the waiting elevator. It took everything in her not to fall to the floor as it took her to the basement, but she did prop herself up to kick off the mud covered shoe. When the doors slid open and the motion activated lights popped on, Em pushed off of the banister and hobbled to her desk, ignoring her overflowing inbox and dropped into her rolling chair. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing, imagining that this was just another late night at the office instead of the cluster fuck her evening had turned into. But, try as she might, it was impossible to convince herself of that.

Knowing that the longer she sat there the harder it would be to move again, Emily forced herself to straighten up in the chair and began to tug at the velcro straps holding the bulletproof vest together. Once off, it was dumped unceremoniously to the floor and kicked under the desk. After steeling herself, Em pushed herself to her feet and limped to the staff bathroom. She groped the wall to find the lightswitch before locking the door securely behind her.

OOO

"Clear!" an agent called from Steve's left. His eyes swept over the gravestones, trying to pick up any sign of movement, but it seemed as though the only people left were with S.H.I.E.L.D.

"They scattered, Cap," Rumlow grunted as he walked up to Steve.

"I don't trust it," Steve frowned, tightening his grip on his shield. "What were they doing out here anyways?"

"Looks like they were waiting for you," Rumlow shrugged as he checked his glock's clip. "They obviously didn't expect you to have backup."

"No, I don't think that's it. It felt...more like a test. To see how we'd react," he scowled before shaking himself. "The team clear?"

"Last sweeps before hitting the rally point," the agent nodded.

"Gimme the sitrep." The two men fell in step as they walked towards the parking lot.

"We've got seven injured, including Falsworth. Four are in bad shape. Hardy and Kistner didn't make it - " Rumlow flinched as Steve grabbed his arm tightly.

"Kistner?" he demanded.

"Yeah. Good guy, just - "

"He had Emily."

"Shit," Rumlow barked.

"Anyone have eyes on Emily?" Steve nearly yelled through the open comm. line. When no one replied, he followed it with, "Anyone? Does anyone see her?"

"She's not at the rally point, Cap," one agent answered.

"EMILY!" Steve spun on his heel and yelled.

"Christ, Cap!" Rumlow scowled, grabbing his arm. "You're gonna give our position away!" Steve shook off his hold and took off at a dead sprint towards where he'd left her.

OOO

"It's just paint," Emily repeated the mantra under her breath as she scrubbed her hands in the staff bathroom. Red water swirled down the drain as her skin turned pink under the hot tap. "It's just paint. It's just - " She jerked back from the sink and turned just in time to reach the toilet before she vomited.

Tears coursed down her cheeks as she retched; it wasn't paint, it was Carter's blood. Carter, who might be dead for all she knew. Carter, the man who had watched over her for years before introducing himself as Tristan. Who teased her mercilessly but brought her coffee and little gifts from his time abroad on missions. Who snored on her couch and complained over cheap beer about the women who expected caviar and oysters on their first date because of who is family was.

After blowing her nose and throwing the bloody wad of paper into the toilet, she flushed away the mess and collapsed against the wall, one knee drawn up to her chest while the other stretched out. Em pushed her broken glasses to the top of her head before wiping away the last of her tears, grimacing as she jostled shards of glass embedded in her cheek. Exhaustion was creeping in as the adrenaline wore off and even the thought of mouthwash in her desk or cleaning her face wasn't enough to make her get up off the floor.

When she closed her eyes, Emily saw Carter's pale, blood splattered face before the dead eyes of the booted man took his place. She heard Steve's grunt of pain before the screaming of steel being torn apart and the low snarl of the man with the metal arm. Her mind pulled up the image of Dr. Kerr - the trauma surgeon that from New York City - telling her that Carter had died. The room started to spin and Emily heard a high pitched ringing in her ears as the loud bathroom fan became muffled. She sucked in a breath and then another as she tried to steady herself, blinking away the spots before her eyes. The tips of her fingers tingled as she lowered herself to lie flat on the floor.

OOO

"Sir," JARVIS answered.

"I need a lock on Emily's cell phone location," Steve barked into his phone.

"Of course. One moment," the AI replied. He closed his eyes tightly as his thumb ran over the red high heel he'd found - the only sign of Emily they'd been able to find. "Captain, Dr. Harthorn's phone is currently in the National Air and Space Museum, 600 Independence Avenue SW."

"The...thanks JARVIS," Steve sighed.

"Of course, Sir. I shall inform Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts that you've called. They have been monitoring the situation since you and Dr. Harthorn left the state." Huffing, Steve shook his head.

"Okay." He hung up the phone and slipped it back into one of the compartments on his belt - he normally didn't carry it but he wasn't entirely sure it would have survived the drop in his go bag.

With a deep breath, Steve turned and strode back towards where the agents had rallied in the parking lot. They were taking stock of injuries and checking their weapons as he walked back to them, flexing his hands before digging his fingernails into the leather covering his palms. "Rumlow!"

"Cap?" his second in command answered, pushing through the crowd.

"I need you to get everyone back to base. I want updates from the hospital as soon as they come in - and where they were sent to. Get these guys loaded up and out of here as quickly as possible and have them start the debrief. I'm going to take the first car and get Emily. Depending on how she is, I'll either see you at the Triskelion or we'll go to the hospital."

"Okay. I'll have three load up with you - "

"I'm going alone, Brock," Steve cut him off.

"With all due respect, Cap - " Rumlow started to say.

"That's an order, Rumlow," Steve said, using his Captain America voice.

"Yes, Sir," Rumlow smirked.

OOO

Emily wasn't quite sure how much time had passed between the time she'd lain down on the floor and the pounding on the door started. Her eyes fluttered open and she fought against the wave of nausea as she pushed up onto her knees and crawled towards the door.

"Hey! Whose in there?" A hint of a smile tugged on the corner of her mouth as Em recognized the voice of the night watchman. She propped herself up against the wall by the door before answering him.

"Just me, Stan," she said softly. The knocking stopped for a moment before there was a gentle rapping.

"Doctor H?"

"Yeah."

"We weren't expecting you until next week!"

"Yeah," Em's head lolled forward and she spoke to her lap. "Just wanted to get some stuff done and I was in town."

"You sure everything's alright, Doc? You sound kind…"

"I'm fine, Stan, just tired. I'll be out in a bit."

"I'll wait for you then, if you don't mind." Sighing, Em somewhat regretted befriending the night watchman during the long nights at the museum. He'd taken to checking in on her during every pass through the exhibit and even seeking her out when she was in the vaults. A few times he'd even abandon his post to walk her to the metro station just to make sure she got there safely. Apparently she reminded him of his granddaughter, as he'd disclosed during one of their evening walks.

Knowing that he was going to wait, Emily forced herself to her feet and leaned against the sink. She scrubbed her hands again, getting all but the blood under her fingernails off, and rinsed out her mouth. After drying her hands, Em wet a paper towel and dragged it across her face, washing away blood, sweat, and tears. She hissed as she dug shards of glass from cheeks and nudged the ones that she couldn't. Finally, recognizing that there was little else she could do to improve her appearance, she reached for the door and undid the lock with a shaking hand.

Stan pushed off of the opposite wall when Emily opened the bathroom door. "Oh my...what happened to you?" he demanded, rushing forward.

"Rough night," she gave what she hoped was a carefree shrug. "Got any coffee going?"

"You don't need coffee, you need a doctor. Come on, I'll drive you to the hospital."

"I'm okay. I just need to sit down for a bit and catch my breath." She took a few limping steps forward before Stan grabbed her arm and threw it over his shoulders before wrapping his arm around her waist.

"You need a doctor," he repeated. Emily tried not to place any weight on him but with her ankle protesting even the slightest movement it was difficult. Together they made it back to the main office space where Em collapsed into her chair again. When he reached for the radio on his right shoulder, she shook her head.

"Please, Stan, don't call them."

"Doc," he frowned, "with all due respect, you look like hell warmed over. You - "

BOOM!

The stairwell door burst open and the door ricocheted off the wall before bouncing back to hit the vibranium shield again, the sound echoing through the quiet room. "Holy…!" Stan gasped, clutching his chest. For a split second Em wondered if he was going to have a heart attack before she realized that it was the radio he was clutching again.

"Emily!" Steve yelled as his heavy footfalls neared.

"In here!" she called. The footsteps sped up until a blue blur turned the corner and Captain America stood there.

In front of Stan.

"Doc?" Stan asked, slowly turning from Steve to her. Emily looked between the two men, noting how pale Steve's face looked under his helmet before she took a deep breath.

"Stan, St - Captain America. Cap, Stan. Stan, would you mind giving us a minute?"

"Y-you know him?" Stan asked.

"Yes, I know Cap. Will you give us a minute?"

"Doc...yeah, yeah, I'll be on my rounds. You let me know if you need anything. But go get yourself checked out, promise?"

"Promise," Em nodded.

"We're going there right away," Steve said, his eyes locked on Emily.

"Okay. Doc," Stan said, squeezing her shoulder before nodding to Steve. "Captain."

"Sir," Steve said, taking a step closer and stretching out his hand. "Thanks for looking after my girl."

"I...uh...thank you for your service," Stan said as he shook his hand. A tight smile crossed Steve's lips before as he nodded. Stan seemed star struck until he shook himself and took a step back before saying goodbye to them both and walking past him. "I'm gonna have to call in a report on that door," they heard him mutter as he neared the staircase.

"Hi," Emily breathed when they were alone.

"Hi," Steve said. "You're alright."

"A bit banged up but I've had worse."

"I saw the car. I thought...I thought…"

"How's Carter?" Steve jerked slightly at the question before walking towards her.

"He's in surgery. They said it looked worse than it was."

"So he's going to be okay?" Em asked, shifting so she sat up straight.

"Should be. How'd you get away?"

"He...he let me get away."

"He?" Steve frowned while kneeling in front of her, his shoulder bumping her desk. His hair was a mess when he took off the helmet and placed it next to the discarded bulletproof vest.

"The man. He...he had me when I got in the car but he said...it sounded like 'oh be gret' and he walked away. But he…" her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the gunshot just over her head.

"It's okay," Steve said softly, his hands resting on her thighs.

"How many?" she asked. He eyed her for a moment before scrubbing a hand through his hair.

"Seven injured, two dead."

"The agent who helped me?" Steve pressed his lips together before shaking his head again. He heard her breath catch before she reached up to brush away a few rogue tears. There was a creak as she shifted in the chair before Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Steve pressed his face to her shoulder and took a shuddering breath before pulling back, his eyes darting across her face before he reached up to cheeks. She fought back a grimace as his thumb swept across scratches and dried blood, jostling shards of glass still lodged in her face. "When you're with me?" he said after another deep breath. "I can't think about the mission. I can only think about how you are, making sure that you are okay. And I can't do that. I have a team of men who depend on me to have my head in the game. Men who have people they want to get home to. And you take me out of that."

"Me telling you no, telling you that you can't come is not me being an overbearing boyfriend. It is me being worried about your safety. It is me being legitimately afraid that you could die because of who you are - what you are - to me. I have to keep you away from all of this. You are the best thing that ever happened to me and can't...losing you? I just...I can't, I can't -"

"Shhh," Em hushed him, curling her arm under his shoulder and pulling him closer. Steve pressed his face into the crook of her neck as she ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm fine, I'm right here. I know I shouldn't have pushed, I'm sorry."

They sat in silence for a while, happy to just hold one another until Steve pressed his lips to her neck before pulling away and kissing her. "What hurts?" he asked.

"My ankle, mainly," she said before pointing to her scratched face, "I just need some tweezers to get this crap out."

"The doctors will do it. I've got a car waiting outside."

"Okay," Em nodded. Steve stood up and put his helmet back on. Once he'd refastened the chin strap, he handed Em her purse before helping her to her feet. After slinging the bag over her chest, she wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulder before he crouched to pick her up.

"The vest!" Em said as he started to walk towards the elevator bank.

"Don't worry about it."

It was a bit harder not to worry about the busted lock, but thankfully Steve had been patient enough to use his S.H.I.E.L.D. ID to gain entrance to the museum.

At least she didn't have to explain a shattered front door. Explaining to Stan how she knew Captain America...that was going to be more difficult.

Author's Note: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait! I've been super busy at work - for those of you starting college, you may not like waking up early for Orientation, but your advisor has to do it every day during the summer. Add to that work drama, getting my move lined up, and attempting to apartment/job hunt across the country...yeah...Anyways, this chapter was kind of a transition. Sorry if it felt like all filler but it was kind of a necessary progression.

As always, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think!