John Polansky paced the floor of his living room, hands sweating, foot tapping any second he was even the slightest bit still. Howard was dead. Maria, too. A car accident, they'd said. He didn't believe it. He'd drove out to check the car himself, under the guise of visiting Tony (he had given his condolences, but Tony barely knew him, so he had tried to be quick) and the serum was gone. All five bags, gone. He doubted even Maria had known about them, and that set him on edge. How had they discovered the project? Not that he even knew who they were.
The wooden floor creaked by the doorway, and his head jerked up. Eve stood there, dark bags under her eyes, holding a mug of something steaming. "Hey," she said quietly, and he stopped pacing, his face softening.
"Hey," he said in response, and she stepped further into the room, holding out the mug a little.
"I brought you tea. Maybe it'll settle you enough that you could sleep," she offered, and he gave her a weary smile and stepped forward to take the mug.
"Thanks, Eve. I don't think I will, though. Can't. Too much happening," he replied, voice and face apologetic. She didn't look particularly surprised, and she nodded a little.
"Alright. Well, will you tell me what's going on, at least?" She asked, looking up at him with eyebrows drawn together, and he felt a flash of terrible, gut-wrenching guilt. She was in danger, and it was all his fault. And there was nothing he could do except come clean.
"...Yeah. Yeah. You uh.. Might wanna take a seat," John said quietly, and her face grew just a bit worried, but she nodded and they both took a few steps to sink into the floral sofa a few feet away. There, she continued looking up at him, waiting, and he took a sip of tea just to stall, to figure out how to break this terrible news. Finally, he said, "Howard Stark's death wasn't an accident. Someone staged his death to get to what we made, and I don't think I can tell anybody."
Eve frowned a little, and reached out to place her hand over his. "What did you make, John?"
John snorted at himself, shaking his head slightly and looking down at her hand on his. He turned it over to clasp hers. "A super soldier serum. Another attempt at Project Rebirth. Howard recruited me two years ago specifically for that purpose. I figured it out, cracked the code, back in May. It took us a few tries to get the synthesis right, but... It was ready, as far as our tests could determine. Howard was transporting our entire supply, under the cover of a vacation, when he..." He'd almost said 'crashed his car,' but he knew that wasn't true. "When he died. The serum is gone. Someone took it. And if I tell the international community, two things are guaranteed to happen. One, a new arms race, and a whole lot of suspicion. Two..." He tightened his grip on her hand a little. "It would put us - it would put you - in danger. And I can't do that. I can't."
His wife was silent for a long minute, her eyes not on his face but on their hands, like him. Then she took a deep breath, and let it out again. "What do we do, then?"
John swallowed. "I'm not sure. At the least... I have to tell the others who worked on the project to be silent. Maybe if we just all stay quiet we'll make it. But.." he set down the tea on the little table to the side of the sofa, and used his hand to instead rub his tired eyes. "One of them has to be the leak. I don't see how else they knew Howard would be there that night, or about the fact that he had the serum that night. Someone told."
Eve was looking a little shaken, and he couldn't blame her. Without saying anything about it, he lifted his arm a little, an invitation. She shifted into his arms without hesitation, and he wrapped her up tight, tucking her under his chin.
They said nothing else, and after a long while, he realized she had fallen asleep. Considering it was nearly morning, he wasn't shocked. He just shifted and picked her up, and carefully carried her upstairs to the bedroom, where he laid her down on the bed, and then looked down on her for a minute. A few tears made their way out of his eyes before he could stop them, and he wiped his eyes and got into bed.
He knew a couple of things. One: every moment was precious. Two: his moments were likely numbered. Three: If Eve was hurt, it would be entirely his fault. He should never have gotten involved in the project.
He rolled over, leaning off the bed a little to set the alarm on the nightstand. Tomorrow, he would start making house calls on the others. This was too sensitive for phones or letters. Tomorrow, he would look for a rental house to make his new home for the foreseeable future - anything without his name on it. Tomorrow, he would try to slap a bandaid over a gaping mistake three miles wide, and hope it saved them.
He didn't know this: but it wouldn't.
A/N Last one for today! Thanks for reading!