A/N: So, it took me longer to finish this chapter than I initially anticipated. Blame it on the hard push to finish Songbirds accompanied with some real-life roller coaster events. That being said, if you're new to my works I have to shamefully admit I'm not always the most consistent updater so, apologies in advance! I did agonize over this chapter – Tony Stark is not an easy character to write and there is just SO much information to crunch through in these early chapters! Hopefully you like it!
HOLY SHIT. You all are amazing! I cannot get over the reviews, faves and follows. Seriously thank you sososo much for all the love! Extra thanks to the wonderful Not Enough Answers and my beta-extraordinaire Stencil Your Heart for all of their help getting this chapter finished!
Disclaimer – I don't own Marvel. I don't want to talk about it.
Chapter Two - Closing In
For just a fraction of a second the world stood utterly still. Sadie propped herself up by her elbow where she fell backward on her bed from the stranger's explosive entry into her room. Though she knew it to be a medical impossibility, she swore her heart was going to break through her ribs such was her shock. Her frail body quivered, a livewire in response to the surprise that sent one hand to clutch her chest in a pitiable attempt to calm her pounding heart. The man made a funny face from the opposite side of the room until he dared to draw a couple of steps closer to her and Sadie couldn't tell if his half-frown and raised eyebrows were a sign of curiosity or concern.
At first she swore she thought she was looking at Howard Stark. The man certainly possessed the same sort of swing to his step and had similar facial features but after she blinked, Sadie realized that the man wasn't Howard.
The man's dark eyes darted over every visible detail of Sadie's appearance, reminding her that she wore nothing except a navy blue hospital gown that swallowed her figure. She moved to draw the covers over her body to shield herself from his appraising gaze but couldn't as she was still half-sprawled out over them, her pale, bony legs stretched out for his inspection. Sadie's cheeks flushed beet red and she scrambled to tug the hem of the gown over her exposed skin which only drew his attention to her wasted figure. Glancing away from him toward her lap, she wished she could just sink into her mattress and die. What was she doing, going around nearly having a panic attack from the over-dramatic entrance of a man with the strangest facial hair she'd ever seen? At one point in her life Sadie prided herself on her reserved, unflappable constitution. But then she remembered she didn't even know where she was or what happened for her to reach this particular junction in her life.
Still, the man was something of a curiosity himself. He'd shaved his goatee into a series of sharp angles with such precision Sadie was willing to bet each side was perfectly symmetrical with the other. In conjunction with his unusual facial hair he wore clothes that, much like her hospital gown, were made of material she'd never seen before. His black jacket hung open to reveal a dark grey shirt that cut a fine line on his figure, a far cry from the drab colors she remembered or the blousier fit of shirts men so often wore at home. Where was his tie? Did men not feel the need to dress appropriately for… well, wherever they were? Everything about this man took Sadie further and further from any place of comfort. He hesitated, holding up both hands in a mild peace offering.
"You're not gonna have a heart attack are you? Because that would be seriously unfortunate timing."
Whatever Sadie expected to hear, that was not it.
"What?" She managed to spit out, scrunching her nose up in confusion. "No, I'm not going to have a heart attack," she snapped, though at the moment she wasn't entirely certain that was true considering the organ in question was still pounding away wildly at her breastbone. "Who are you?"
"Oh right, introductions. Your generation is so big on manners, isn't it?" The man waved a dismissive hand before reaching for the only other piece of furniture in the room, a chair that he dragged over to the side of her bed. Sadie couldn't even get her mind around the phrase 'your generation' before he plopped into the chair and kicked his legs, propping his feet on the bed to show off a pair of shoes that, much like the rest of him, defied everything she knew. The tips of her fingers twitched in a fit of curiosity, wanting to touch the unusual fabric making up the body and what she could only assume was the rubber that comprised the soles. But the man, seemingly determined to keep Sadie's head spinning, continued on with zero regard for her confusion and dropped a bomb on her that was powerful enough to divert her attention from his shoes and the rest of his appearance for that matter. "Tony Stark."
"Stark?" She echoed, latching onto the first scrap of familiarity she'd been presented with since waking up. Sadie only knew of one Stark and she wasn't dim enough to believe in sheer coincidence. "Are you a relative of Howard's?" Her eyes narrowed. "One of Stark's relatives is with HYDRA? I don't believe it."
"I'm not with HYDRA. They're gone, wiped off the map by the-" he paused, face twisting into a mildly tortured expression. Thinking better of what he was about to say next, he swallowed and changed course. "And I'm not just related to Howard; I'm his son for better and for worse, mostly for worse."
The silence that followed this revelation was so profound that Sadie swore she'd gone temporarily deaf. Eventually she heard the blood whooshing in her ears that still wasn't loud enough to drown out the echo in her brain. Howard Stark. Tony Stark. Howard's son. Howard Stark had a son. The man, Howard's son, crossed his arms over his chest, content to watch the entire gamut of emotions that this revelation took her through, not missing a tick on Sadie's face when she didn't even try to mask her expressions. Tony looked to be in his mid-forties, something that only further added to the growing feeling of absurdity. Before Sadie could even register what she was doing, her lips pulled into a stiff smile that served as the gateway for the humorless laughter bubbling up from her lungs. The whole thing was just too stupid and ridiculous for words. Reaching to the inside of her elbow, Sadie pinched her skin hard enough to draw blood.
"Whatcha doin' there?" Tony asked her.
"Trying to wake myself up," she replied through her laughter. "Because clearly I'm dreaming. Howard Stark doesn't have a son! I saw him less than a month ago and he certainly didn't have a child then so it's impossible!"
"You sure about that?" Tony asked her, looking far too calm and smug for his own good.
In that moment Sadie swore she saw a flash of Howard's overwhelming confidence shine through Tony. The longer she looked at him the more little details jumped out at her and reminded her of her friend. Tony's dark hair, his lackadaisical posture, and even the way he raised one corner of his mouth in a smirk that Howard often displayed. There was an eerily familiar swagger about Tony Stark, as though he was often the smartest person in any room he walked into and fully aware of it. But that was impossible. Now Sadie's mind was taking a turn for the crazy, ascribing traits to a total stranger who was obviously lying to her.
"No," she denied him flatly. "No, that's impossible. Howard is single and moreover even if he did have a child, there's no way that child is you. You have to be in your forties! I might have been asleep for a little while but not that long. Next thing I know you're going to tell me it's nineteen-sixty or some ridiculous nonsense like that."
"Actually it's 2016 but you know, close enough."
The air escaped Sadie's lungs in a cough, expelling as forcefully as if she'd been punched. "Twenty-twenty six-" she wheezed, unable to even finish the thought.
Twenty-sixteen was an abstract concept in her head, an unfathomable number that piled onto the other unbelievable things she was grappling with. She didn't even know what to say in response to the idea that she'd somehow allegedly travelled through time to wind up in another century sitting with the adult son of Howard Stark in a blue-lit room that was so sterile she was convinced someone could do surgery on the floor. Once more her chapped lips drew into a bitter grin and her full-bellied laughter filled the room up to its corners. Tony dropped his feet from the bed, sitting up a little higher as she continued to laugh, wrapping an arm around her aching stomach. Sadie laughed until her chest started to seize up and she couldn't breathe.
"I've gone crazy," she choked out between bouts, throwing her free hand out to support her weight as she slumped forward. "Either that or I'm hallucinating that Howard Stark's son," she laughed even harder, "is telling me that yesterday it was nineteen forty-nine and today it's twenty sixteen."
Tony wiped his face with his hands. "Well, I expected you to take the news badly but this is a new one. You're not crazy, or at least I don't think you are. You've been in cryostasis, a human popsicle locked up in a HYDRA facility for God-only-knows how long. A group of backpackers found you in Romania about a week ago."
Sadie lifted her head, blinking owlishly at Tony as her laughter slowed down. She recognized that he was trying to convey important information to her, an explanation of sorts for how she'd ended up in this position. For all she knew Tony was on the verge of taking out a gun and shooting her, but she just couldn't stop herself. Another laugh burst out of her lungs and she shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"None of that makes a goddamned lick of sense. Am I in a sanitarium? Good Lord, what happened to me?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Tony groused, rubbing the back of his neck. "You disappeared somewhere on the trip from Hamburg to Ypres in June of '49. After that there's just nothing-you were gone."
Slowly, Sadie's laughter shifted. Her last memory came back to her. Agent Murphy's face leered out of the darkness along with his words of warning. She was meant to help shape the new world. And those last two words continued to linger with her, an omen coupled with the darkness that overtook her, leading to a thousand memories that turned out to be nothing more than dreams. Sadie thought of every beautiful visage of what her life could have been, so rich in detail and sense that she swore it was all real. Raising a hand, she covered part of her face as it collapsed. Her sparse tears of mirth grew steadier and the sound of her laughter transitioned to the first sob that popped up from her lungs, a pitiable dry crack that was all she could manage upon recognizing that every sweet moment she dreamed was nothing more than a hope she'd buried deep in her heart, never to live out.
Sadie's body turned inward, her shoulders rounding and elbows folding against her chest as she sobbed into her hands. She wanted to curl up in a ball and hide beneath the covers and it was all she could do to keep breathing. Was this what having a breakdown was like? Perhaps she really was going insane; that would explain her erratic behavior of the last several minutes and the radical, wild swings in her emotion.
"And there we go," Tony muttered to himself, dragging out the words. The chair beneath him scraped along the floor and she flinched when he dropped a hand on her shoulder, giving it a few awkward pats. Even his attempt at comfort was as disaffected as the rest of him, ringing hollow though Sadie didn't understand why. "There, there, just get it all out."
When at last she managed to stop crying she lifted her head from her hands to discover him leaning against the side of her bed, arms draped loosely over his chest and his intense gaze fixed on her. Sadie knew she ought to apologize or at the very least try to explain her roller coaster behavior but that wasn't the first thought to enter her mind. Looking at Tony she recognized another trait in Howard, his penchant for turning serious on a dime and his tendency to tell the truth, no matter how cold and hard it might be. Her mouth opened in soft surprise, looking over his clothes before turning back to the machines that were supposed to be monitoring her, including the one for her IV that still confounded her. Turning her attention back to Tony, she read the somber line of his mouth and the earnesty in his suddenly hard eyes and although the impulse went against every ounce of her military training and every shred of her common sense, she believed him.
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"You're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," he remarked, bringing the ghost of a smile to Sadie's lips. The Wizard of Oz was still around, so that was something. "There are other people who want to talk to you but you need to clean up." Tony reached out and grasped her tiny wrist, lifting her hand up for inspection. "Definitely a couple of square meals. Thoughts on cheeseburgers? I know a place," he waved her off. "What do you know about good food? I'll take care of it, just give me a few."
Just as rapidly as he came into her life, Tony was on his feet, making for the door. Another bout of panic flickered to life in her veins, sending her rocking back up to her knees. "Mr. Stark?"
Tony stopped and whirled around, holding up a finger. "Please don't call me that again, it sounds weird coming from a woman of your advanced age."
Sadie didn't know what to make of his antics and instead of focusing on them she raised a hand to her bare neck, feeling the absence of her usual chain. "I had a necklace."
"Yeah," he said shortly. "I'll look into that. Anything else?"
She wasn't sure how to ask the question and a tiny voice from the reasonable part of her mind shouted that she had no reason to trust this Tony except a gut feeling. But the want to know, the need to validate Murphy's thinly veiled insinuations, was too strong.
"Is-" she paused and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the answer she might receive, good or bad. "Is it true? Is Bucky Barnes really alive?"
At once Sadie knew she'd said something wrong. The temperature in the room plummeted several degrees. Tony's previously perfectly engaging, if somewhat head scratching, nature vanished in an instant as he closed himself off, mouth drawing into a stony line that matched the coldness in his eyes. There was something buried in the stiff lines of his posture and the almost white-knuckled grip he had on the door handle. Sadie couldn't tell if it was anger or disapproval, perhaps even disappointment or a combination, but whatever it was she found herself sliding off her knees to place even more distance between them. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it and then blew out a hard sigh. Opening the door with a jerk, he started to leave and then stopped, glancing once more over his shoulder.
"Yeah."
X X X
A tiny dot of blood welled up on Sadie's skin where she'd just plucked another dark hair from a deep root. She blotted it away with a tissue and continued on, cleaning up the space between her dark eyebrows and bringing some desperately needed definition. After the past few hours she'd endured, there was something therapeutic about tweezing her eyebrows. Find a stray hair and pluck, one hair after another until the natural shape of her brows began to emerge, a neat picture where she exercised full control. Sadie took her time, considering her reflection in the lit mirror that she was still struggling to recognize as her own. She didn't even mind the occasional painful hair that she got at the root. The sharp sting served as a reminder that she wasn't hallucinating or dreaming; no, she was wide awake in a strange world that encroached on her at all sides. But she found something as simple as tweezing her eyebrows enough to ground her for now. If women in twenty-sixteen still shaped their eyebrows then that was at least something, no matter how small, that Sadie could relate to.
Her wet hair hung down her bare shoulders, drying in curls that sprang up owing to the significant length now missing. Ultimately Sadie wasn't sure if she was more grateful for the tweezers or for Nurse Gonzales who carefully brushed and braided her abominably long hair only to cut the braid with a sharp pair of surgical scissors, freeing her hair to hang just below her shoulder blades. Without the bedraggled strands and now with her eyebrows under control, Sadie felt marginally more human. At the very least, she could see the shadow of her old self peering out from behind her gaunt features.
The towel she wrapped around her loosened when she tilted her head and smoothed her fingers over the skin on her forehead, tracing over an old scar. Sadie wasn't sure why she hastened to tighten the towel; there was nobody in the small bathroom connected to her room. Nobody could see the way her shoulders stuck out beneath her skin or the pronounced wells above her collar bones. Except, Sadie didn't want to see her body. She didn't want to see her hip bones jutting forward, pronounced due to the total lack of curvature on her frame. A tiny, rational voice in her head reminded her that time would restore the damage and she wouldn't look like this forever but as she stared at her hollow cheeks and the dark circles beneath her eyes, Sadie had a hard time imagining she would ever look like herself ever again. And so she tightened the towel, hitching it higher over her chest to cover as much of her body as she could.
Despite her reservations about her body, Sadie was grateful to see her skin clean, scrubbed to a pink glow. Nurse Gonzales, though she still gave Sadie a wide berth, was kind enough to show her how to use the tap in the shower before taking her leave back to the observation room where Sadie was certain she was constantly checking her watch, wondering what was taking so long. Sadie hadn't missed the care the nurse took with her, touching only if she had to, keeping her at arm's length and watching her with an eagle eye the entire time. If Sadie didn't know any better she would have thought that Nurse Gonzales was afraid to be alone with her at all and halfway expected Sadie to snap and attack her at any given moment. She hadn't missed the way her hand hovered over an unusual looking rectangular object on her hip, the way a soldier's fingers might twitch over his pistol before drawing it to shoot. Sadie had no intention of attacking anyone or attempting a break out. All she wanted was information and even if she was inclined to try and escape, she knew her weak legs wouldn't carry her too far.
Even the walk from her bed to the bathroom tired her out and she had to sit for a while before she felt strong enough to get into the shower. Once she was on her feet and standing still she managed to stay upright, gaining some sense of rejuvenation from the simple joy of a shower. For a long time she stood under the piping hot stream of water, letting the phenomenal pressure beat down on her back and face. One thing Sadie noticed since she'd woken up was that she couldn't seem to get warm. The hot water was more than a luxury, it was an opportunity to infuse some heat back into her body. When her skin was pink and her fingers wrinkled she relented but still took her time washing her hair and body, using the razor provided to shave her legs and under arms, bringing some smoothness back to her skin. The surprisingly long, dark hair that covered her legs only served as another mystery. Where had she been that she couldn't shave her legs? She allowed herself to focus on that question, one of far too many, through the remainder of her shower right up until she dried off with one of the absurdly soft towels provided to her. Even when she'd stayed the night in a five star hotel in San Francisco her first night back from the war, the towels hadn't been so nice. Sadie felt as though she'd wrapped her body in a literal cloud only to follow it up with lotion so smooth it felt like silk whispering across her skin.
Those little luxuries put her in a slight state of ease. She'd seen first hand how HYDRA ran its operations during the war, the state of the factories and the way it treated its prisoners. Sadie had a hard time believing that if she actually was a prisoner she'd be treated to hot showers, expensive towels, and fine bath products. The faint scent of rose wafted from her curls and she had to pause midway through plucking another stray hair to cage a smile. Just the thought of a HYDRA guard or agent being sent out to purchase rose-scented shampoo was too much even for her. But more than that, Sadie couldn't imagine that HYDRA agents would be so careful with her, attending to her medical and personal needs or, most importantly, divulging such critical information. Wouldn't she be kept in the dark? The less she knew the better? A well-trained HYDRA agent wouldn't go about throwing his feet up on chairs, proclaiming himself to be a Stark, telling her the truth about what happened to her or-her breath hitched-revealing to her that Bucky was still alive.
Hearing Tony confirm that Bucky didn't die on that snowy day threatened to undo what little composure she still maintained. His simple 'yeah' needled the long-dormant hope within her, a part of her she buried deep in the darkest place of her heart along with every prayer she'd ever said out of desperation to see Bucky even one last time. It was simply too much to believe and far too much to hope and yet there was Tony saying what she wanted to hear more than anything. Sadie went to touch her necklace only to remember it wasn't there. She felt the absence of the rings like a wound, a pain that seared through her mind where sense of security should have been. The sapphire engagement ring was the only connection left that she had to Bucky and now to her whole life, supposedly nothing more than memories collecting dust for over seventy years.
Once more she sucked in a tight breath at the thought.
"It's impossible," she declared to her reflection despite the modern trappings surrounding her. "Simply impossible."
And yet, Sadie knew it wasn't. She only had the scant evidence of her room and of the conversation she had with Tony Stark to back her up but deep in her heart, she knew she was facing a new reality. The complications that came with this new world were so innumerable that Sadie didn't even know where to start and she found herself preserving what little sanity she had left by pushing off the worst of her thoughts, of the hard truth about the people she loved and the life she'd worked so hard to rebuild. Instead she focused on her eyebrows, on the feel of the towel enrobing her body, and the little details that jumped out at her to keep her from drowning in the veritable sea of her new reality. She eyed the scar above her eyebrow and looked to her hands for the tiny white nicks that littered her skin, another on her forearm from the same attack that killed Betty. When she swiveled in her chair and looked over her shoulder she discovered the criss-cross of white lines from a shell burst in Japan. Sadie could just barely reach around herself to brush over the scars, recalling the sensation of being hit, that the burning pieces of shell were nothing more than a knife slicing through butter.
"War is hell," she murmured to herself, turning back around to inspect her face once more.
Satisfied that she'd gotten every unruly hair, she applied a thin layer of moisturizer to her face and turned to the stack of neatly folded clothing on the far end of the bathroom counter. Sadie felt a certain sense of trepidation just looking at the clothing. Judging from Tony Stark's casual appearance and Nurse Gonzales' uniform of pale blue pants and a shirt, Sadie braced herself for the worst. What did women wear these days?
She found underwear sitting on top of the stack, made of soft cotton and cut a good deal smaller than she remembered. There were no garters or stockings laid out for her and what she assumed was the bra consisted of stretchy fabric that hugged her chest, the front coming down to a point between her small breasts and trimmed with scalloped lace. Sadie tugged on the loose pants that only stayed on her hips when she tied the drawstring. A long sleeved shirt unfurled in her hands and just before she went to pull it over her head, she caught her reflection in the mirror once more. Even when she was healthy Sadie never possessed the type of bombshell curves that graced movie screens and the covers of women's magazines. The war certainly hadn't helped with any vain pursuit of an hourglass shape but even during the height of the war, she'd still maintained a healthy weight and strong muscles. Atrophy was the only word that came to Sadie's mind upon examining her torso. When she shifted to turn, her ribs poked out but something else caught her eye.
A little area of mottled skin curved just around her waist. Reaching behind herself, Sadie felt out the area that she thought was just a few patches of rough skin but upon turning around, the shirt in her hand fell to the floor at her feet. Three thick lines of scar tissue rose up from her side and curved around to her back. Raised and red, Sadie would recognize burns anywhere; she'd treated so many burns during the war that she couldn't even begin to count them all. But none of the burns she saw in field hospitals approximated the precision of the lines on her side, which reminded her more of the marks she might see on livestock or a burn taking on the precise shape of an iron left too long on a shirt, not the formless shapes that burns usually took.
"Branding," she whispered in a hollow voice even as she craned her neck to get a better look at the burns. "I was branded."
Even the angle of the burns suggested possibilities so horrible that a shiver ripped down Sadie's spine. Her chest tightened and when she blinked she swore she could feel a boot pinning her to a dank floor and the feel of her arm being jerked back to hold her in place. She sat down on the chair hard, one hand pressed to her marks and the other against her breastbone where her heart began to race. The sensations rang through her like echoes of a memory that she couldn't reach because it was trapped behind frosted glass in her mind.
Was that it? Was that why she couldn't remember? Had the trauma been so bad her mind literally blocked her from accessing the memory?
Sadie fingered one of her curls as she considered the pieces of the puzzle laid out before her. The picture that formed wasn't just ugly, it was terrifying. She didn't realize her breaths were coming out in sharp, punctuated bursts until a knock on the bathroom door nearly sent her out of her skin.
"Miss Reid?"
Sadie deflated in relief. Nurse Gonzales propped open the door to peer through a crack.
"Miss Reid, are you alright?"
The tip of her index finger traced the curve of one burn. Sadie mouthed wordlessly at her. When she didn't immediately reply, Nurse Gonzales pushed the door open and tentatively approached her. The air of fear and caution surrounding Nurse Gonzales reminded Sadie of how she felt when trying to catch and help a wounded barn cat as a child, desperate to help but still scared of the potential for scratches. Her shoulders sagged, closing her chest in on itself.
"I just wish I could remember what happened," she whispered, too broken to keep up her guard. "I want to know how I got here."
The rigid lines wrinkling Nurse Gonzales's forehead eased. Crossing the threshold, she knelt down and retrieved Sadie's shirt. "I know you do."
"It doesn't feel real. Mr. Stark says it's twenty-sixteen and that he's Howard's son but how can I believe it? Why should I?"
"May I be honest with you, Miss Reid?" Nurse Gonzales asked even as she bunched up the shirt to bring it over Sadie's head.
"Of course."
"Do you have any other choice but to trust Mr. Stark?"
The question ground Sadie's thoughts to a screeching halt. Her mouth rounded in soft surprise and she looked around the bathroom, taking in the shining tiled shower, the sleek black countertop and the soft light emanating from around the square mirror. Every angle and aspect of the bathroom and her hospital room was foreign to her, something that might come from the wildest imaginations of writers picturing the future. Sadie caught her reflection once more and slowly, like a waterfall thawing in spring, the full weight of her situation began to trickle down on her until it became a steady stream. She was a fraction of the woman she'd been, ripped out of her life with no warning and no mercy. If the condition of her body and her mind's refusal to allow her to remember were any indication she'd been subject to brutal conditions and even torture, leaving her so weak she could barely walk across a room without needing rest. Moreover, she had no idea where she was and most importantly she was alone.
The stream burst into a waterfall, gushing over her with a bitter swell. All she had was herself and the word of Tony Stark, the only person who had given her any sort of tangible information and answers as to what happened to her. Yesterday she'd been in Hamburg, preparing to move from one group of comrades to another and today she was completely and utterly alone. And what was worse, if Tony truly was telling the truth then everyone she knew was likely dead or old beyond recognition. If Bucky was alive then Tony's reaction suggested he wasn't in any condition to find her, if he even knew she was alive at all. Sadie sucked in a deep breath, pressing a hand atop her breastbone where she felt the sharp staccato of her heart.
The only thing she knew for certain was that she was alive and, for the moment, she was being given proper medical care and hospitality. Tony and Nurse Gonzales certainly didn't seem intent on causing Sadie any harm. The nurse in Sadie took one look at her reflection and saw the dire need for that care. In fact, there was a small part of her that couldn't believe she was upright and alive at all. If Tony was going out of his way to rehabilitate her then that spoke volumes about his character. And really, when the situation came down to it what other choice did Sadie have but to trust Tony Stark?
"No, I suppose I don't."
Nurse Gonzales took one of Sadie's arms and gently guided it through the sleeve. Heeding her silent direction, Sadie took over, pulling the light grey shirt on the rest of the way. With the nurse's help, Sadie got back to her feet so she could smooth the shirt over the waistband of her pants and she sighed. If it truly was twenty-sixteen Sadie had to give the new century one thing: the clothes were quite comfortable. Slowly, she progressed from the bathroom back into her main room where, to her surprise, the lights were no longer blue but rather a warm yellow glow that reminded her of candle light. She started to ask Nurse Gonzales if someone changed the light bulbs but thought better of it. Sadie wasn't sure she could take too much more new information and there was a more important question dancing on the tip of her tongue.
Once she was settled on her bed, the back adjusted so she could sit up, Sadie touched Nurse Gonzales's wrist.
"Mr. Stark-Tony-said that I was in something called cryostasis? Am I saying that right?" Nurse Gonzales nodded. "Will you explain to me what that is?"
Nurse Gonzales's heavily penciled eyebrows snapped together. "You really don't know, do you?"
"I'm afraid I don't."
At last the hesitation fueling Nurse Gonzales's arms-length treatment of Sadie dissipated. She pinched the wide bridge of her nose and muttered under her breath. "Ay Dios mio." And then she planted her hands on the side of Sadie's bed and pushed herself to sit on it. Pointing a warning finger at her, Nurse Gonzales's features turned stern on a dime. "I can't tell you much or it'll be my head but," she deflated, mouth softening in sympathy. "At the very least you deserve to know about the mechanics of how you ended up here."
"That's all I'm asking, Nurse Gonzales."
"Call me Gabriela."
The simple gesture of Gabriela giving Sadie her first name meant everything to her. HYDRA goons were nameless, trained into operating without identity. Maybe Sadie didn't know what happened to her but for the moment she was safe and that was really all she could ask. Hopefully the answers would come. With any luck she would soon know what happened to her and-her heart leapt into her throat-she would see Bucky at last. But for now it was enough that she was protected and finally about to begin piecing the puzzle together, beginning with learning about cryostasis.
X X X
There were two conference rooms at the Avengers compound. One of them served as a sort of meeting place for the group to come together to brief and debrief on missions, to plan maneuvers, and to review training programs. The second conference room occupied prime real estate in the main building on the top floor, with floor-to-ceiling windows taking up one entire wall that overlooked the grounds and the quinjet hangar. Tony never really appreciated the panoramic quality the windows afforded or even stopped to appreciate that his fortune built everything on the grounds. And even now he thought the most visually arresting part of the conference room wasn't the view itself but rather the woman standing at the windows.
Sadie stood perfectly still, one hand raised to cover her mouth and the other wrapped around her middle. Even cleaned up and sporting a fresh - if somewhat uneven - haircut, she still looked as though she'd been dragged through hell and back. Tony thought she already looked as though she'd put on a pound or two since being in the care of the doctors working at the compound. Her pallor wasn't quite so shocking in the pale grey open cardigan she wore, made of a thick cotton blend that softened the hard edges and angles of her shoulders and elbows. Even though she was dressed in modern clothing and surrounded by sleek furniture and shining surfaces, Sadie still looked like a woman out of time. It might have been the way she stood, perfectly straight with a hint of ease, poise that Tony didn't often see in modern women - as though Sadie could float through a packed room or twirl through a hundred waltzes without missing a beat. She held herself well, far more composed than at their first meeting and though he was loathe to admit it, Tony thought she possessed the exact same quality that Steve did. Sadie, despite the horrors she'd clearly endured, was timeless and no matter how awful she looked, that was what made her so captivating.
Tony realized he was blocking the doorway and staring. When he drew into the conference room to join her at the window, he had to fight his smirk; her eyes were wide and behind her limp fingers, her mouth hung open.
"Nice view," he remarked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
She twitched in response to his arrival but was too taken by the scenery to tear her eyes from it. A couple of lines formed on her forehead when her brows drew together in confusion. "Are those-airplanes?"
Tony followed the line of her gaze down to the open quinjet hangar. "Yep," he said, popping the 'p.' "A lot quieter than C-47s."
He was surprised when she snorted in a half-laugh and rolled her eyes. "Mortar blasts are quieter than C-47s," she remarked with a hint of acidity that he wished he didn't like so much. Her eyes slid sideways to regard him and she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm not much for flying."
"Well, who is," he remarked sarcastically
Sadie's lips drew into a faint smile. "Captain Rogers was. On flights that required combat jumps, he used to sit next to the open door so he could look at the scenery."
Tony didn't know why but of all the things Sadie had done and said since waking up, that was the most surprising both in its content and how much it hurt. In the weeks following their blow-out fight in Siberia, Tony had done his damn best to avoid thinking about Steve Rogers and his stupid... well... everything. Hearing Sadie, his contemporary and former comrade, make such a casual, fond comment undid him in a way he didn't expect. Of course Steve did stupid things like sit next to open airplane doors. What else would he do? Next to Tony himself, Steve Rogers was perhaps the most reckless man on the planet.
"So," he said, more sharply than he intended in his quest to change the subject. "Believe me yet?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"There's always a choice."
"After seeing all of this," she jerked her chin toward the quinjets, the perfectly manicured lawns, the modern architecture and brand new cars parked outside of buildings, "I don't see how I can believe anything otherwise. Besides," she turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. "You really do remind me of Howard."
Tony grimaced. "Anything but that, I beg you."
Sadie opened her mouth to ask why but another voice cut her off. "Sarah Grace Reid, you have caused quite a number of headaches around here."
As one, Sadie and Tony turned to see Secretary Ross stride into the conference room. Behind him, an assistant filed in to lay out a thick file along with a few large manila envelopes. In comparison to Tony's t-shirt and jacket and Sadie's drawstring pants and the open-front cardigan she pulled tighter around herself, Ross was laughably overdressed. Tony supposed a suit and tie was part and parcel of the Secretary of State gig but the crisp white shirt and vivid red tie were more than just the first items Ross grabbed when he rolled out of bed that morning. Everything about his appearance suggested intimidation, though all Tony wanted to do was reach out and straighten the crooked American flag pin on Ross's lapel. He unbuttoned the middle button of his suit jacket and motioned for both of them to come to the table.
"Nice power tie," he snipped, earning a glare from Ross that might have cracked lesser men. "Am I going to have to do introductions again? Gosh Mr. Secretary, where are your manners?" Ross's ire only further clouded on his face to the point where Tony wouldn't have been surprised to see a miniature thunder cloud appear over his head complete with itty bitty forks of lightning to accompany his deep scowl. Gesturing out to Ross, Tony raised his eyebrows at Sadie who seemed reluctant to come to the long conference room table from her place at the windows. "Thaddeus Ross, Secretary of State, meet Sadie Reid, founder of the International Human Aide Project and vice versa."
Tony enjoyed the way Sadie's mouth fell open in surprise. To her credit, she recovered from her initial shock quickly though she didn't make a move to sit in the seat Ross gestured toward.
"I apologize if I caused any trouble, Mr. Secretary. To be honest I think I'm just as confused about my circumstances as the rest of you."
"Well, we'll see about that," Ross muttered and renewed his gesture toward the empty chair directly across from his. "Take a seat."
Sadie only moved to sit when Tony pulled out the chair, gripping the armrests tightly to support herself when she lowered down. Tony wandered away from them, choosing to take up a post on the short wall adjacent to the windows where he could observe both of them at the same angle, curious as to what Ross had to ask but not so invested as to actually jump into the fray. If this first meeting was a test to determine the extent of what Sadie knew, Tony wanted to leave it to the professional - so to speak. Sadie arranged herself as best as she could, drawing the cardigan tighter over her white shirt and crossing her ankles beneath the table. Even under all of this intense scrutiny and so far out of her element that she may as well have been on a different planet, she managed to maintain her composure and although Tony didn't want to appreciate that, he did.
Ross opened the file in front of him and flipped through a few pages, glancing up at her every so often. A scowl pulled at Tony's mouth. He could recognize an intimidation tactic when he saw it but he couldn't see the point or purpose in trying to make her so uncomfortable as to break the silence first. To her credit, Sadie remained silent, folding her hands in her lap and waiting for Ross to speak first. When he realized she wasn't going to budge, he stopped flipping through her chart. Their eyes met and Tony unconsciously leaned forward just a touch.
"You have a fascinating story, Captain Reid," Ross began only for Sadie to cut him off.
"Miss Reid," she corrected gently. "I was honorably discharged from the Army."
Ross paused, missing a beat before he nodded. "Very well, Miss Reid. As I was saying, your history is quite the read. Joined the Army in nineteen forty-two, served with the 80th field hospital before transferring to the SSR where you served for over a year and landed with the 381st station hospital. Wounded in Italy, Belgium, and Okinawa. Recipient of the silver star, three purple hearts, and enough unit citations to sink a ship," Ross flipped a page and nodded. "Honorably discharged from the Army in '46 and instead of going back to your old life, you went on to create the International Humanitarian Aid Project with the goal of helping to rebuild post-war Europe and bring medical care to the communities hit hardest, only to completely fall off the radar in '49 on your way from one mission site in Hamburg to another in Ypres. You were supposed to arrive on the evening of June 12 but you never showed at the airfield and in fact, you were never officially recorded as leaving Hamburg."
"That much I've put together, Mr. Secretary," Sadie replied, shifting in her seat to sit up a little straighter.
"So, you remember all of your past?"
Sadie pursed her lips. "Of course I do. Except-"
"Except what, Miss Reid?" Ross inquired even as he flicked through a few more pages in his file, sounding half-distracted and uninterested in her caveat.
Sadie's jaw clenched. "Except how I ended up here."
Ross snapped the file shut and clasped his hands atop it. If Tony didn't know any better, he would have thought he saw a predatory light shine in Ross's eyes. He seemed to be trying to circle Sadie, not bothering with the same niceties afforded to Steve when he was found or even attempting to ease her into this new world situation.
"Tell me everything you remember from the day you disappeared."
At first Tony thought maybe Sadie was going to refuse. She twisted her hands in her lap, tightening and releasing the tendons just beneath her skin. Some sort of defense mechanism kicked in, perhaps a gut instinct that she didn't want to divulge that information to Ross, that she didn't trust him and Tony couldn't say he blamed her. But then she eased up and, realizing that there was no other option before her but to speak, she began to divulge the story. The tale she wove started the morning she woke up at the old German barracks IHAP was using at quarters for their group going through the drive through Hamburg to the small airfield that she was scheduled to depart from to Ypres. Sadie explained how she'd met with Agent Lucas Murphy, an early SHIELD operative who turned out to be a HYDRA operative and who happened to be working directly for Dr. Arnim Zola.
"The last thing I can remember is Agent Murphy giving me Bucky Barnes' dog tags. I tried to escape but the door was locked and I couldn't open it in time. Agent Murphy used chloroform to knock me out and that's it. The next thing I remember is waking up for a moment before passing out again. Then I woke up here."
Ross stared at her for a long time after she finished speaking. All throughout Sadie's explanation, she never once took an unusual pause or even hesitated. Conviction laced through her voice, a pleasant southern drawl that Tony hadn't expected though he supposed made sense considering her birthplace. If she was lying, Tony certainly couldn't find a tell though he knew that didn't preclude the possibility. Experience was a brutal teacher and he knew better than most that even the people he trusted could lie without arousing suspicion, as easily as breathing.
"You don't remember what happened to you at all," Ross persisted, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. "Not where you were taken? Nothing about what you saw or might have done?" He let out a scoff. "Not even how you ended up in a cryostasis tube for the last seventy years?"
Sadie scowled. A little color swirled into her cheeks. "Not even that. I didn't know what cryostasis was until Nurse Gonzales was kind enough to explain it to me yesterday."
"Well that's a shame, considering a whole team of doctors doesn't have a damned clue how you survived cryo in the first place."
That got Tony's attention. He'd heard that the scientists and doctors contracted to review Sadie's blood samples and medical charts were still hard at work but this was the first he'd heard that the team was struggling to make headway into an explanation. This in and of itself was a surprise considering the wealth of resources and information the doctors had to work with. There were entire files devoted to how Steve survived crashing the Valkyrie, spending over sixty years in a frozen lock up only to thaw out perfectly unscathed. That, on top of all of the information recently gathered from the HYDRA facility in Siberia, should have provided all the answers necessary to determine what factors had to be present in order for Sadie to survive. A scowl touched his lips as he started to wonder whether Sadie was about to throw a big wrench into that calculus considering she was nowhere close to the perfect physical condition both Steve and Barnes presented when they went into the ice. This begged the question, how did a half-starved woman swaying on death's doorstep survive not only cryostasis but her traumatic thawing on top of it?
Sadie looked as though she was about to ask half a dozen more questions in her quest for more information but stopped herself at the last second. She sensed Ross's thinly-veiled irritation at her lack of useful response, if his terse silence was anything to go off.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Secretary but I don't have any more answers than you do and believe me, I've been wracking my brain trying to find anything but it's just not there."
Ross pinched the bridge of his nose before giving into an exaggerated nod. "Alright, then let's go back to the day you disappeared. You said that everything goes blank after this Agent Murphy drugged you and gave you these?"
From within the inner pocket of his suit jacket, Ross produced a shining object. With the ball chain looped around his finger, he allowed two steel dog tags to drop down, twisting to and fro. Sadie rose up higher in her seat, lips parted in surprise just as Tony started to pull away from the wall. She held out a hand for the dog tags and Ross started to withdraw his hand only to think better of his reticence and let the tags fall into her open palm where she brought them closer for inspection.
"Yes," she whispered. The way she brushed her thumb over the raised lettering unsettled Tony. Sadie regarded Bucky Barnes's dog tags the way a pirate might value buried treasure or a thief might covet a priceless diamond, precious beyond recorded value.
"Who exactly was Agent Murphy?"
Sadie's brow furrowed. "When I knew him he was an SSR agent tasked with running reconnaissance missions in Nazi-occupied territory, specifically France. He was wounded during the same mission that saw his partner killed in action. I served as his attending nurse before he was moved to a rehabilitation facility."
"Did you know him well?"
"Only as a patient. We shared pleasantries but weren't friends by any means. We did frequent the same pubs and dance halls but that wasn't unusual. The SSR staff often all went to the same places."
"How would he get a hold of Barnes's dog tags?"
"I don't know." Sadie pushed the two ID tags away with her thumb to reveal the Saint Christopher's medal beneath it. Tony scowled; the presence of the medal came as something of a surprise when he first inspected the tags but upon reviewing old SSR photographs on the flight back to New York, Tony discovered a handful of photographs of Barnes with his dog tags hanging over the top of a wool sweater and there the medal hung, further proof of authenticity. Sadie's brow furrowed, mouth twitching at the corners as she tried to cage a frown that overtook her entire face. Tony realized then, just a beat too late, that while Bucky Barnes's dog tags meant almost nothing to him they were the only tangible piece of Sadie's life left, her sole connection to not only her former fiancé but everything else - a reminder that this was all real and the world she knew was gone, reduced to nothing more than a memory.
Tony's insides squirmed when she blinked away a few stray tears and drew the dog tags closer to herself and asked Ross the question that he'd been asking himself for weeks now. "Where is he?"
"Excuse me?"
"Mr. St-" Sadie shook her head once when Tony cleared his throat to correct her. "Tony told me that Bucky is still alive so I'm assuming whatever happened to me is connected to whatever happened to him. Mr. Secretary, where is Bucky?"
Sadie was far better at connecting the dots than Tony wanted to give her credit for, though he supposed in her empty hospital room she had nothing but time to mull things over. The measured tone of Sadie's voice might have fooled most men and it certainly appeared to fool Ross, but Tony was an expert in restraining his true feelings and he could hear the tinges of desperation clinging to her drawn out vowels. Even the way she tipped slightly forward and tightened her grip on the dog tags all spelled out her eagerness to be reunited with her old love.
"We don't know where Barnes is," Ross said gruffly, fixing Sadie with a beady eye. "I was hoping you'd be able to shed some light on his whereabouts."
"I'm not sure how I could possibly help you. The last time I saw Bucky was in nineteen forty-five, the morning he died." Her frown deepened, trembling at the edges. "Allegedly died." A pregnant pause hung in the air wherein Ross continued to watch Sadie warily all while her face took her through a myriad of emotions before her sadness gave way to a scowl that pursed her lips and hollowed her cheeks even further. "Mr. Secretary, the amount of information I don't understand about what's going on could fill a dozen history books but the way you're talking it sounds like-did something happen to Bucky? Is he alright?"
"As far as we know, Barnes is alive." The sharp glare Ross threw toward Tony was nothing short of loathing. "He escaped our custody with the help of Captain Rogers."
Sadie choked on a cough that sent her bony hand to her chest as she struggled to recover.
"Excuse me?" She spluttered. "Steve is alive?"
Tony snorted in humorless laughter that drew all attention to him. Holding up a sharp hand, he drummed up an unconvincing smirk. "Oh, don't mind me."
All he could think about in the moment was that if she really didn't know what happened to Barnes then she was in for an unpleasant shock regardless of what Ross decided to tell her. Tony almost felt bad for her, dwarfed in the office chair and clutching the dog tags as though her life depended on them. He wasn't even sure where Ross could possibly start to explain the extraordinary events that spanned whole decades all leading up to now. How Bucky Barnes went from being regarded as a war hero to a war criminal was a story that could take days to fully explore and Tony knew for certain that he wanted no part of it.
"Mr. Secretary, please tell me what's going on."
Sadie's soft plea carried with is a tinge of desperation and sadness, as though she already knew that the answer wasn't going to be what she wanted to hear but had to nonetheless. Tony's stomach twisted itself into consecutive knots, each one pulling harder than the last until the tightness pressed up against his diaphragm and compressed his lungs. There was no doubt in his mind now that she was an innocent victim, another person who got caught up in Steve's wide web and ended up as collateral for God-only-knew what purpose. A vein of sympathy opened up in him, taking in Sadie's doomed hope and knowing that her already upside down and shattered world was about to be further decimated. The corners of his mouth twitched toward a frown; he wasn't so certain he wanted to be present for this.
As if the universe heard his silent dread, a flash of movement in the glass door caught his attention. Rhodey appeared, rolling to a stop in his wheelchair (something Tony hoped was a temporary measure) and jerked his head, beckoning him to leave the conference room. On the one hand he knew that leaving in the middle of this crucial first meeting was not only incredibly rude but might be upsetting to Sadie. And yet, Tony just knew he couldn't stand there and listen to Ross lay out the laundry list of Barnes's crimes that culminated in the death of his parents. Hearing the tortured history of Bucky Barnes was too soon and much too fresh. And so he moved toward the door, catching the attention of both Ross and Sadie.
"Carry on." He waved a dismissive hand that stopped Sadie before she even started to get out of her chair. Ross merely rolled his eyes but returned to business as usual. Before he could witness the concern and disappointment filter across Sadie's face at the loss of her sole possible ally, Tony turned his back on her and left the room to where Rhodey waited for him.
"How's it going in there?"
"Fantastic," Tony deadpanned. "Nothing like dealing with another one hundred year old amnesiac ice pop."
Together they moved away from the conference room to one of the sofas in an open common area. Tony flopped down, wiping a hand over his face. He didn't need to look at Rhodey to know he wore a stern expression. That look of long-suffering and consternation was a semi-permanent fixture for his friend, perfected after years of dealing with his antics.
"None of this bothers you?"
Rhodey's question could have referred to plenty of things. After all, what wasn't Tony bothered about these days?
"You're going to have to be more specific."
"All of this business with Sadie Reid," Tony peeked through his fingers to see Rhodey gesture toward the conference room. "Keeping her locked up in a hospital room with no access to the outside world, interrogating her like she's a prisoner, giving her zero time to acclimate to this huge change. Doesn't it strike you as shady that Ross hasn't informed the UN yet?"
"It's only been a few days."
"It's been over a week from the time she was found until now. Ross had every record of her ever being in that hospital in Romania erased; it's like he doesn't ever want anyone finding out about her."
"Can you blame him?" Tony asked, sitting up only to hunch over, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Rogers single-handedly broke four people out of the most secure prison on the planet. How much do you want to bet he's going to come for Reid the second he finds out she's still alive?"
"That's not a good enough reason to hold her prisoner. Ross is treating her like she's already guilty but he doesn't even know the crime."
"What are we supposed to do? Hand her an iPhone and drop her off in Times Square?" Tony argued, meeting Rhodey's unwavering gaze. "Nobody even knows how she survived cryo. Given her physical condition and the obvious signs of torture, she should be dead. Ross is doing what he thinks is necessary to protect her and the rest of the world."
"You think she's enhanced."
"It'd explain how she managed to survive."
Rhodey rocked back in his seat, drawing the line of Tony's gaze to his wheelchair. He'd be lying if he said one of the biggest motivators for rushing the job on Rhodey's prosthetics was so he never had to see his friend in a wheelchair ever again. For his part, Rhodey seemed to be taking the radical change to his life infinitely better than Tony. There was just something so defeating about seeing Rhodey quickly master the mechanics of the wheelchair and rolling around the compound instead of striding along the way he used to. Of all of the wells of guilt currently residing in Tony's heart, Rhodey's paralysis was the deepest, tinged with the knowledge that it was an avoidable tragedy and almost entirely Tony's fault.
"Tony." Rhodey's firm call brought him out of his thoughts and back to the subject at hand. "It's one thing to have her stay here until we figure out all of those details. But the Accords are clear on the subject. If she's enhanced, the UN Council needs to be informed so it can come together to determine a course of action. And for another thing, holding her in a windowless room without the opportunity to begin catching up isn't just cruel, it's torture."
Torture. Now there was a word Tony tried not to dwell on too much. But it was difficult not to think of torture after he reviewed results of Sadie's cursory medical exam and the handful of x-rays technicians managed to get at the hospital in Romania. The evidence was littered all over her body - remodeled fractures to her ribs and arms, the emaciated state of her once-strong body, and the stark burns that weren't the product of any fire or explosion from the war. Was keeping Sadie locked away in that hospital room doing more harm than good? Were they just perpetuating the cycle of torture she'd endured even if she couldn't remember?
The answer was a hard, unequivocal yes.
Tony turned his head toward the conference room where he could just make out Sadie. Gone was the poker face she wore so well. Her mouth hung open in distress and she held her hands close to her chest, clutching Barnes' dog tags. Ross must have been getting into the gory details of the Winter Soldier and, just like that, had taken the last shred of hope she'd been holding onto.
"We don't have any reason to suspect she's done anything wrong," Rhodey pressed on, easing off his hardline tactics. "Even if she can't leave the compound, Sadie deserves more than what amounts to a jail cell. She deserves a little bit of freedom and the chance to read for herself about the last seven decades."
Tony bit the inside of his cheek, wrestling down the deluge of bitter feelings that bubbled up in his stomach. He could see the challenge laid out before him now. Someway, somehow he had to learn how to separate Sadie Reid from Bucky Barnes. Tony couldn't be like Ross; he refused to stoop to that level of paranoia and harshness. Rhodey also made an excellent, irrefutable point that Ross was putting the cart before the horse. Based on all the evidence amassed so far, there was every reason to believe that Sadie Reid spent almost the entirety of her missing time in deep sleep. There wasn't even a whiff of a rumor to suggest she'd done anything wrong except be in the wrong place at the wrong time and fall in love with the wrong man. None of those offenses rose to this level of punishment.
Innocent until proven guilty.
Frowning, Tony side-eyed Rhodey and then blew out an exaggerated sigh.
"God, I hate admitting when you're right."
X X X
"Kitchen's that way. We try to keep it stocked with the basics but whatever you do, don't eat Happy's peanut butter. He gets cranky when people eat his food."
"O-okay."
"Someone'll show you how to use the coffee maker and the other appliances. You're gonna love the coffee, way better than the crap the Army gave you."
Sadie raised an eyebrow. "Gasoline is probably better than Army-issued coffee."
A sideways glance allowed her to catch his fleeting smirk and Sadie wondered if he ever laughed. The more time she spent with Tony Stark in fleeting chunks, the more he presented himself as a rather complicated puzzle. Although he possessed a biting sense of humor and a metric ton of sarcasm, he didn't seem to find much humor in the surrounding world. She wondered what it really took to make him laugh and whether the seemingly permanent air of snark was a cover for something deeper. What was Tony like with the people who really got to know him? She suspected those people were few and far between. Absently she wondered what Steve made of Tony; he'd never had much patience for overly sarcastic, overconfident types.
"The bathroom is communal but that's no big deal since you're the only one staying on this floor. It should have everything you need."
Tony pointed to a door marked with a small sign bearing simplistic, geometric renderings of a man and a woman. They passed the bathroom with no ceremony, the same way they'd toured the other portions of this large complex on the slow walk from her hospital room to her new quarters. Sadie tried her hardest to keep her shock to herself but the task proved difficult in the face of so much glass, so many pristine shining surfaces - the futuristic furniture and every little detail in between. Lights flickered to life without having to flip a switch whenever they entered a room. Cool air circulated through the compound from invisible places and she was fast-learning that the advanced technology used to monitor her health was just a drop in a bucket.
That wasn't to say she wasn't grateful for Tony's spur-of-the-moment decision to upgrade her living situation. She would be glad for a room with windows so she could feel the sun on her face. Sleeping in a real bed would be a nice change of pace from her confining hospital bed, as would the promised privacy; she'd learned to hate the one-way mirror in her hospital room, never knowing when she was and wasn't being monitored. Maybe Tony wasn't much of a tour guide but that didn't really matter to Sadie. He was giving her a little bit of freedom and space to wrap her brain around everything she'd learned in the last twelve hours.
"So, your room is here. It's not much but better than your old digs."
Sadie arched an eyebrow but passed through the door when Tony opened it. A double bed stood against the far wall, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows and covered with a thick pale grey bedspread. The nightstands on either side were free of clutter, save for an alarm clock and a lamp on one side. On one of the adjacent walls, a simple desk and chair resided where three stacks of books stood.
"I thought you'd want to get a jump start on catching up. A lot's happened since you went under."
Sadie drifted away from Tony and lifted one of the top books. America in the Post-War World. She brushed her fingers over the cover depicting the American flag waving across a smoky background. A cursory glance at the other titles revealed more tomes on all of the history that she missed. Many of the titles and phrases made little sense to Sadie but she supposed that was the point. There was more than enough on a personal level that she was struggling to understand, so much so that she'd forgotten the whole rest of the world continued to spin on even when hers came to an abrupt halt.
"They're mostly in chronological order," Tony pointed out and Sadie nodded, swallowing hard.
Another stack caught her eye, not made of books but manila envelopes instead. She set the book down and reached for the top file. Flipping it open, she found herself looking at Steve's old army photograph, paperclipped to a memorandum dated back to 2012. Seeing that year in print felt wrong and Sadie's addled brain wanted to assign a different value to the digits than a year. She scanned the top page, confirming everything that the Secretary of State told her. Steve was discovered in the Arctic, frozen and perfectly preserved in the wreckage of the Valkyrie.
"Ross wants you to catch up on all of that before your next meeting."
Sadie didn't mistake the disdain in Tony's voice. She suspected that he hated being told what to do and taking orders from a man as belittling as Secretary Ross. Their first meeting left an unpleasant taste in her mouth and Ross gave her the impression that he didn't believe a word she said. In fact, if Sadie didn't know any better, she would have thought he was determined to try and root some secret out of her that she was unaware of keeping. Regardless, she wasn't looking forward to their next scheduled meeting in two days' time.
Steve's thick file still in her hands, she glanced over the rest of the files and stacks of books. Her heart sank. Turning back to Tony, she frowned.
"This is only the tip of the iceberg, isn't it?"
Not a single one of his muscles twitched in response. Once again, Sadie struggled to discern where Tony stood. Then he shrugged one shoulder.
"Welcome to the twenty-first century, Nurse Reid. You're gonna love it."
A/N: For those of you wondering when Bucky and Steve are going to appear I ask for a little bit of patience! This story is kind of like a giant puzzle and I'm just putting the edge pieces together right now. But they are both coming and will have first appearances soon, I promise!
In the meantime I'd love to know what you're thinking so far. As difficult as Tony is to nail I've had fun writing his character thus far! So, loved it, hated it, feeling sorry for poor Sadie (ignore my evil cackling in the background) I want to hear your thoughts! – Much love, Kappa.