DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE.
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As Natasha blended in with the noise and bustle of the city around her, she couldn't help but find herself feeling sickened by the sight of Jasper Sitwell. He stood hundreds of feet away from her, wearing an unbearably smug smirk on his face. How could someone lack so much honour? How could he believe that what he was doing, who he was working for, could possibly mean well?
The man answered his phone as soon as it started to ring, perhaps desperate to hear the next orders sent his way. Pathetic, Natasha thought. From that moment on, she knew she would always think of Sitwell as a slimy toad.
Sitwell circled, confusion on his face when Sam's voice spoke to him over the phone, not the person he was expecting to hear from.
"He really should get some acting classes under his belt." Natasha commented under her breath.
Beside her, Steve chuckled. "Easy there, tiger."
"I'm just stating a fact." She defended herself. "The man shows everything on his face. How Pierce ever thought he was a useful ally is beyond me." She looked up at Steve with a dangerous smile spreading across her face. "Please, can I just-"
"You'll have your fun." He promised her, the amusement clear in his voice as he regarded her restlessness to get her hands on the spineless man in front of them. "But, we're going with my approach first."
She rolled her eyes. "Always so bossy,"
Steve squeezed her hip as he brushed past her. "Come on, he's moving."
As planned, Sitwell headed to the dark grey car parked a couple of blocks down, where Sam was standing, leaning against the door but making no move to open it.
"Well?" Sitwell demanded, and had the audacity to sound impatient, to imply that he really had somewhere better to be. Maybe, he did, but Natasha really couldn't have cared less. It was taking everything she had to not throttle him there and then. "I'm here, so whatever game you are playing-"
"Oh, I'm not the one who wants to play." Sam told him.
Before Sitwell could even turn around, Steve was behind him. "Don't make a scene." He warned in a low growl. "We need to have a little discussion, on the rooftop."
Surprisingly, Sitwell gave no protest as he walked into the nearest building, nor did he shout for help or make any empty threats. Perhaps, the man wasn't so stupid. After all, who argued with Captain America?
Steve dipped his head to Sam, before he and Natasha followed Sitwell inside. The man climbed the stairs somewhat hurriedly, as if not wanting them to get too close. Natasha fisted her hands as she glared at the back of his head, trying to remember to keep cool, but it was hard to do that when she found herself wondering what part Sitwell had played in Fury's assination. Even thinking about that link made her wish she could just pummel him right there in the stairway until he was a weeping mess at her feet.
From the tense set of Steve's shoulders, he was clearly wondering the exact same thing, although he had a much better lid on his temper.
No one questioned the three of them as they passed them. No one so much as dared to look their way.
Sitwell spun to face when they reached the door to the roof. "Before you even-"
He wasn't able to finish his question. Steve opened the door by shoving Sitwell through it, sending the pathetic man flying onto the center of the roof.
Natasha blinked in surprise before looking up at Steve and saying, "Now who needs to play nicely?" God, did he have any idea what he did to her when he was assertive like that?
Steve rolled his eyes, storming after Sitwell as the man scrambled to his feet. "Tell me about Zola's algorithm." He demanded.
Sitwell backed away just as quickly as Steve advanced towards him. "Never heard of it."
"What were you doing on the Lemurian Star?" Steve continued, as they approached the edge of the building.
"I was throwing up." Sitwell said lamely. "I get seasick." He stumbled against the edge, flailing his arms as he lost his balance and started to topple backwards.
Steve grabbed him by the collar of his jacket.
To his credit, Sitwell tried to glare at Steve, but he looked ready to cower before the alpha male facing him. "Is this little display meant to sinuate that you're gonna throw me off the roof? Because it's really not your style, Rogers."
"You're right. It's not." Steve agreed. "It's hers."
Finally.
As Steve quickly stepped out the way, Natasha kicked Sitwell right in the chest, something she had been itching to do since he first crawled out of that meeting only minutes ago. He screamed as he fell backwards, disappearing out of her sight for a moment.
"You want to talk about this morning?" Steve asked her as they waited. At Natasha's blank stare, he added, "The cuddling?"
Her body stiffened slightly. "I do not cuddle." The seriousness of her tone would have most people shivering.
Steve, on the other hand, held her gaze in challenge. "It was most definitely cuddling."
"You're infuriating, Rogers." She shot back.
Before he could respond, Sitwell's screams got closer again, and he shot up into the air above them, tumbling over their heads and landing once again on the hard concentrate. Sam, wearing his Falcon suit, dropped at his side.
Steve glanced at Natasha, and they communicated without words. They would discuss it later. Still, the fluttering in her chest remained.
Sitwell once again rushed to his feet as they approached him, holding out a hand as if he could really stop them from doing whatever they wanted.
Like a coward, Sitwell broke before they could even lay a hand on him. "Zola's algorithm is a programme for choosing Insight's targets."
"What targets?" Steve pressed.
"You!" Sitwell panted out, trying to get over what he had just experienced. "A TV anchor in Cairo, the Under Secretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City, Bruce Banner, Stephan Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA. Now, or in the future. The 21st century is a digital book." On shaking legs, he finally stood up. "Zola taught HYDRA how to read it."
Natasha glanced at Steve, whose face was blank as he tried to make sense of what Sitwell had just revealed to them. Her mind hurt from trying to keep up.
"Your bank records," Sitwell clarified, as if hoping that assisting would spare him. "Medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores! Zola's algorithm evaluates people's past to predict their future."
"And what then?" Steve demanded.
Sitwell licked his dry lower lip as his face darkened, realisation of what he had just down dawning on him. There was a glint in his untrustworthy eyes; fear. "Oh my god, Pierce is going to kill me…"
If that wasn't enough proof that this man was a spineless toad, Natasha didn't know what was.
"What then?" Steve repeated.
Sam gripped onto Sitwell's shoulder, preventing the man from making a break for it. Despite how pointless it would be, Natasha wouldn't put it past him to try to run away.
"Then the Insight helicarriers scratch people off the list." Sitwell told them, referring to the three latest weapon-carrying, high-tech helicarriers being stored underneath SHIELD. "A few million at a time."
Complete chaos. The slaughter of millions. The destruction of the world.
"Bring him with us." Steve told Sam. "Let's go."
Sam grabbed hold of a protesting Sitwell, launching them both into the air. Steve grabbed Natasha's hand and led the way back down the endless staircases, to the steel grey car waiting for them.
"Steve, what are we going to do?" She asked quietly as they exited the building.
We. Her mind was set. Determined. Whatever he had planned, Natasha would follow his lead. She wouldn't let him do this without her.
Besides, he wasn't the type to pretend that he didn't need her watching his back, either.
"We go to SHIELD. We shut this down." He answered, opening the back door for her to slip inside the car, next to Sitwell. "Don't try anything." Steve threatened him, with a meaningful glance at Nat, who dipped her head. She could handle him, and the temptation of reaching across and snapping his wrist was far too inviting already.
Steve darted to the passenger seat in front of her, with Sam settling in beside him, without the wings. Steve's shield was already in the car with them.
They raced onto the freeway, heading straight for Headquarters.
"HYDRA doesn't like leaks." Sitwell blabbed as they neared their destinations. His legs were trembling, showing he was panicking about what Pierce would do to him if he got his hands on him.
"Then why don't you try sticking a cork in it?" Sam suggested coldly. Natasha was growing to like the Falcon, and could see how easy it was to be his friend and ally.
She shuffled forward in her chair, resting her chin on the back of Steve's chair. "Insight's launching in 16 hours." She reminded them, as Steve turned his head to look at her. "We're cutting it a little bit close here."
"I know. We'll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly." Steve informed them, careful not to give too much away, with Sitwell's attention locked firmly on whatever they were planning.
Sitwell instantly protested, "What? Are you crazy? That is a terrible, terrible idea, you-"
He was interrupted when something landed on the car, something heavy. It rocked the car, causing Sam to grip tightly on the wheel to keep control of the vehicle.
A second later, the window beside Sitwell was smashed and he was grabbed out of the car, thrown out into the path of an incoming truck. It wouldn't have been a pretty sight. The now shattered window showed a metallic arm, carrying a gun. Shots came through the roof, missing her by a mere inch.
Instantly, Nat unbelted and clambered into Steve's lap, his arm coming out to pull her over to him. His other arm wrapped around her waist as he covered his body with hers as the shots continued.
Steve reached forward and slammed on the handbrake.
The wheels screeched against the tarmac, but the desired effect was created; whoever had jumped onto the car went flying into the road in front of them. The man rolled, seemingly unscatched by his fast fall, his metal nails gauging into the road as effortlessly as if he was slicing through butter. He stood up and faced them.
The Winter Soldier.
Natasha's stomach dropped, and Steve's hold around her waist tightened instinctively.
She reached for the gun in her back pocket, a gift from Sam that morning, but something slammed into the back of them, causing her to drop it into the footwell. A large black SUV propelled their car closer to the masked soldier, who stood waiting for them. Just as they approached, he effortlessly sprang onto the roof again, kicking out the back window.
Glass shattered around them, making them duck to avoid it slicing into the skin of their faces. Natasha tried frantically to grab hold of the gun, but just as her fingers grazed over the cold metal, the car jolted to the side, throwing her against the car door. She grunted from the impact, and she felt Steve's arm tighten its grip as he pulled her back across his lap.
Sam tried his hardest to remain in control of the car, but with the Winter Soldier above them and the SUV behind them, they were getting thrown around like a rag doll.
Then, as if it wasn't bad enough already, the Winter Soldier punched through the windshield and snatched the wheel, tossing it out the car as easily as he had done with Sitwell.
"Shit." Sam voiced what they were all thinking, as the car skidded across the railing sideways, scraping against the tarmac painfully. The new angle, however, made the gun sit against the side of the car, closer to Nat. Quickly, stretching her fingers so much that they ached from the effort, she grabbed it, clutching it in her hand.
Steve pressed Natasha in his chest as his hand reached behind her, grasping the door handle. "Hold on!" He ordered, and she grasped onto the material of his jacket. Steve grabbed Sam just before he broke the door open, using it as a sledge as they skidded across the freeway.
Somehow, Sam managed to duck to the side and roll down the pavement without scratching his skin to shreds. Natasha and Steve continued to skid until finally coming to an abrupt halt, where they both sprang to their feet. Even with her gun in her hand, Natasha suddenly felt very, very unprepared for what was coming their way. She refused, however, to show that on her face.
In front of them, the SUV braked sharply, with the Winter Soldier clamoring off it. He was handed a large weapon, which he aimed directly at the two of them.
"Go!" Steve ordered, pushing Nat from his side just as a large grenade was fired. She darted out of the way just in time. While the shield covered him, the force of the blow sent Steve flying back over the bridge and disappearing out of sight. Then, there was a loud crash and lots of screaming from the public.
Natasha had no time to even attempt to make it to the other side and search for him. She ran for cover as a rainstorm of bullets thundered down around her, and she darted behind an abandoned car. Sam joined her moments later, eyes wide and chest heaving.
As dark-clothed men surrounded the vehicles, Natasha darted up and shot at them, managing to send one of them crumbling to the ground. The remaining men were relentless in their firing, and the Winter Soldier sent out another grenade, aiming straight for her.
Quickly, she threw herself over the freeway partition, right into the oncoming traffic which she skillfully managed to dodge. Her brutal training always had ways of paying off.
The shots fired her as she ran, rolling over bonnets of chairs and darting around their sides for cover. Thankfully, everyone on the freeway had had the sense to get out of there as quickly as possible.
The car right beside her went up in flames, courtesy of the Winter Soldier, and Natasha jumped off the bridge. She twisted in the air, firing at the wall with her slingshot. The rope went instantly taunt, allowing her to curve and land on her feet.
She bolted for the other side of the bridge, wishing the bystanders weren't just standing watching cluelessly. Did they not understand that they were in danger? This wasn't an exciting film for them. They were in the way, and they were going to get hurt.
Then, she saw the shadows on the floor in front of her and skidded to a halt. The Winter Soldier loomed above, waiting for her to run out into sight. Carefully, she edged to the side, moving slowly. When she stood directly underneath the edge of the bridge, the Winter Soldier was scanning the area in front of him, as if suspecting she was hiding behind another vehicle.
"Take this you son of a bitch," She growled lowly, firing directly at his face. Her bullets struck his goggles, causing him to fly back, away from the edge. She'd only just made it behind the cover of a lorry when he stood and continued firing at her. Clearly, she'd pissed him off.
She shot back with both guns, wanting to send the message that she was just as pissed off. Then, using the parked cars as coverage, she made a run for it.
~0~0~0~0~0~
Perhaps, a bus had not been the best thing to use as a landing point, but Steve really hadn't had any choice. Only second, he had been pushing Natasha away from the grenade, and then the next, he was sent flying through the glass windshield of a tourist bus.
That bus now was definitely out of business.
Steve rose to his feet, ignoring his aching, protesting body. The bus was on it's side, the insides shredded and sparking from cut wires. The windows were all shattered, leaving glass lying everywhere. Luckily, though, it looked as if everyone had made it out.
Then, just as the gunshots outside seemed to be silenced, they found him. Bullets cut through the bus easily, surrounding him. With a grunt, he ran, covering his face as he smashed through the back of the bus, rolling onto the hard floor.
He grabbed his shield, using it to cover him as he faced two gun-wielding men. One by one, they were taken out, and once they all lay on the floor, Steve looked up at the bridge to see Sam.
Another guy appeared, climbing onto the roof of a car. Steve ran at him, the shield blocking the bullets as designed, and Steve flipped the guy like a toy.
That was when he heard the gunshots further down the street, and realised with a sinking feeling he hadn't seen Natasha, and he hadn't seen the Winter Soldier either.
Sam clearly realised the same thing. "Go! I got this!" He yelled down.
Not needing a second invitation, Steve ran for it. Anyone who shot at him was swiftly taken out by Sam and his sharp eyes. The members of the public still on the street ran into nearby shops, as if thinking that any locking system would actually be enough to keep these people out.
But, Steve's mind was narrowed to finding Natasha. He couldn't see her bright hair flashing across the street, or hear her dignified yelling as she shot back at whoever was firing at her. His stomach sank.
There. The Winter Soldier.
He had just blown up another car, and it was the explosion that caught Steve's attention. But then, Natasha appeared out of nowhere, tackling him with her bear hands. She wrapped her legs around the back of her shoulders as she attempted to use the slingshot to strangle him, but the Soldier rammed them both backwards on a nearby car, grabbed her and sent her flying. She hit the ground, hard.
Throwing a disc and momentarily rendering his mechanical arm useless, Natasha ran. The Soldier fired after her, and she fell to the ground. Steve couldn't see her anymore, and his entire body went cold. He pushed his legs faster, and sprang at the Soldier, who had jumped onto the roof of a car and aimed at where Natasha was lying.
The Soldier's fist collided with the shield, a force so strong that Steve clenched his jaw in order to keep his strength locked into his arms. Then, quicker than he could blink, his shield was knocked to the side and he was kicked in the chest. He fell back, landing on his knees, and covered himself with the shield as the Solider rained more bullets down on him.
Steve rolled, keeping the shield always in front of him, just as the Soldier ducked off the car. Steve jumped over it, kicking the large gun out of his hand. Still, the Soldier had a weapon, and used it without a second thought. Steve darted around him, punching out whenever he could, but the Soldier was fast. Somehow, he grabbed hold of the shield, twisted it out of Steve's hands and pushed him back to the ground.
Seeing his shield in the hands of his enemy did nothing to help Steve's rage.
The shield was thrown directly at him, landing in a van and cutting into it as if it was made of snow rather than metal.
Grabbing a small blade from his pocket, Steve ran at the Soldier, tackling him. The two of them scrapped, throwing punches and kicking out whenever the opportunity showed itself. Steve managed to get the uphand, hitting the Soldier in the face before sending him crashing into another parked vehicle. Steve jumped, kneeing him in the nose, but the Soldier recovered quickly and was on his feet again.
When the Soldier managed to get his metal arm around Steve's neck, the grip was so immense, so effortlessly powerful, that any oxygen going to Steve's lungs was instantly blocked.
But, he didn't crush his throat. Instead, he just threw him back into the traffic, as if enjoying himself far too much to kill Steve just yet.
Steve managed to roll out of the way just in time to avoid the Soldier's metal fist.
Again, they fought, blocking and striking, like two well practised warriors. With Steve pinned to a van, the Soldier revealed a large blade, but the sudden twist of Steve's neck had the knife embedded into the vehicle rather than his face. It scraped painfully across the car as Steve pushed them sideways, locking his arm around the Soldier's neck and flipping him over, causing them both to fall back.
Steve grabbed the shield, yanking it away and blocking the Soldier's endless blows. He wedged it between his shoulder blade, and the Soldier yelled before pushing him away. As the Soldier rolled several feet away, his mask that covered the bottom half of his face came off.
When the Soldier turned around and faced him, Steve froze.
Looking back at him was the face of a man he thought he'd lost forever.
But, there was no recognition on his face. Just cold, burning hatred.
"Bucky?" Steve whispered. No, it couldn't be. He'd watched his friend fall off that train. He'd failed him, all those years ago. Bucky had died, practically in front of his own eyes.
Something in the Soldier's eyes flashed. "Who the hell is Bucky?" He asked, before aiming the gun at Steve once again.
Steve froze. Time might as well have stopped as well, as those words crashed into them and destroyed his soul. Who was Bucky?
But, the Falcon arrived just in time, knocking the Soldier to the ground. This time, when he jumped to his feet and aimed at Steve, there was a strange expression on his face, as if he was battling with himself to point that gun, to fire the trigger.
Before he even got the chance to act, a grenade launched itself passed Steve and blew up at the Soldier.
Steve looked over his shoulder to see Nat, hunched behind a car with the Soldier's weapon in her arms. She was panting, her face was cut, but she was alive. It was as if someone had just picked Steve's head out of a bucket of water, saving him from drowning. She was alive.
When he turned back to the smoke, the Soldier - Bucky - was gone.
It was when Natasha crumbled to the floor again, that Steve snapped out of whatever trance seeing the face of his old friend had held him in. He was at her side in a heartbeat, kneeling down and bringing her into his arms. Her heart hammered against her chest, and he could feel it as it matched his own.
"Nat," He whispered, cradling the back of her head with one hand. Then, his jacket started to feel very wet. That coppery scent of blood hit his senses. He leaned back to assess where she had been shot. "He got you." Although it was pointing out the obvious, he was concerned that the shock would blind the pain, making her unaware of the seriousness of the situation. Natasha Romanoff never got shot, but he wouldn't put it past her to stubbornly ignore such an injury.
Natasha didn't so much as tilt her head down to assess the wound for herself. "I'll get the bastard for it, later." She spat out defiantly, her face twisting in pain. Only Natasha Romanoff would say such a thing after being shot.
Steve helped her to her feet slowly, as Sam came to join them. Even when she was standing, he didn't remove his arm from her waist. "Where the hell did he go?" The veteran demanded, scanning the streets around them.
Steve would worry about that later. Right now, Natasha was bleeding a lot. She needed medical attention, even though he knew she would play it off as no big deal. He couldn't concentrate knowing she was hurt. The overpowering scent of her blood surrounded them, and kept his arm around her waist, supporting her up.
She chuckled. "Always got to play the hero," She commented.
Only Natasha could find humour after a situation like that. They were lucky to be standing here, all of them, yet she managed to crack a joke. Steve looked down at her, at her playful smile, and took a breath.
As Natasha's eyes met his, that spark of amusement faded into something else entirely.
The moment was ruined when several large black SUV surrounded them and Rumlow appeared. Men circled them, holding guns at them as if they had been the real threat. Being Washington's most wanted pair definitely had its disadvantages, even though they had just saved countless lives.
"Drop the shield, Rogers." Rumlow ordered, the authoritative tone in his voice made Steve want to throttle him there and then. Neither of them had forgotten what had happened on that elevator. "Step away from Agent Romanoff, slowly."
A low, animalistic growl sounded from deep within Steve.
But, when you had twenty plus weapons aimed directly at you, it wasn't the time to be a smart ass. So, he complied, reluctantly.
Natasha snarled as two men grabbed her, pinning her arms behind her back. Steve bristled. Don't you dare touch her! He wanted to yell at them, but he didn't dare undermine Natasha. If he did, she'd probably hurt him before even thinking of fighting the men who now held her like a criminal.
"Get down on your knees!" Rumlow ordered, pointing to both Steve and Sam, although he hovered closer to Captain America. Clearly, he was taking secret, personal enjoyment from being the one directing orders.
With his hands in the air, Steve knelt down, very much aware of the gun now being pressed to the back of his head. Behind him, he heard Natasha struggle, but the wound under her collarbone made her gasp out in pain. The reminder that she was still alive was all that convinced Steve to bite his tongue.
Rumlow was quick to handcuff him, but his attention was snapped by a helicopter circling above them. "Not here," He ordered the man to his side, who had his weapon pinned to Steve's head. "Put the gun down."
Slowly, the gun was lowered.
Steve shoved himself away from Rumlow before he could be walked over to the vehicle. He didn't need any guidance, even with his arms stuck behind his back. Sam and Natasha were already inside; the veteran gave him a small nod, confirming they were okay, while Natasha glared at the doors as they slammed shut.
Steve's head was aching. He could never mistake those dark brown eyes, or the face of a friend who had stood by him through everything, even before he had become Captain America. The friend who, for years, Steve had thought to be dead. "It was him." He whispered, mostly to himself, as if hearing the words out loud would help make sense of everything. "Bucky. He looked right at me, like he didn't even know me."
Natasha, who was sitting in front of him - too far away - gave him a sympathetic look. There was an entire world between them, one where Steve had been someone else, someone she'd never met, and yet her eyes were filled with understanding, of sadness for what he was going through. He wished she was sitting beside him, so he could lean against her and draw strength and reassurance from having her close to him.
"How is that even possible?" Sam asked. "It was, like, seventy years ago."
"Zola," Those years came rushing back to him, of rescuing his friend from that twisted, deluded scientist, and how they had fought their way out together. "Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him, and..."
He'd failed him.
"None of that's your fault, Steve." Natasha said firmly, her eyes burning as she met his gaze from across the truck, clearly sensing where his mind was going.
He dropped his head, his shoulders slumping. All he had had in those years was Bucky and Peggy. One of those had moved on with their lives, but constantly had her mind muddled, leaving her confused and dazed. The other one, had just tried to kill him, several times and had no idea who he was.
"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky." He whispered.
Natasha shifted in her seat, about to stumble over to him regardless of the fact she'd probably just fall over, when the wound in her collarbone made her flinch.
Both men noticed it. "We need to get a doctor here." Sam barked to the two guards and sat with them, motionless and silent. "If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's going to bleed out here in the truck."
One of the guards held their taser out, lighting it. It glowed blue and threatening, but it didn't touch Sam. Instead, the guard moved it sideways, to the one sat beside it, and shocked it. Then, with such quick and precise movement, the first guard kicked out, whacking the other one in the face. The second guard crumpled into a heap, leaving the three of them staring in confusion and shock.
The first guard removed their helmet, revealing a familiar face and deep brown hair. "Ah, that thing was squeezing my brain." Hill commented, staring down at the helmet in disdain, before glancing up at Sam. "Whose this guy?"
"Sam Wilson," Steve explained, still trying to work out how Fury's second in command had gone undetected amongst the guards, and what exactly she was doing helping them. One thing was for certain; he was thankful to see her. "He's a friend."
Hill seemed to believe him, shrugging a little. "We haven't got the time for introductions. Let's get out of here."
~0~0~0~0~0~
The next chapter is a little steamier, I promise ;)
- E x