A/N: Enjoy!
"If winter comes, can spring be far behind?"
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
With her car still in the shop, Avery had to walk home the next night. She started early to avoid being on the street in the dark.
Her eyes were trained on the pavement, occasionally looking up at street names to make sure she was on the right track. The later it got, the less people were on the sidewalk with her. Up ahead, another woman walked by a group of men sitting on a bench. At first sight of the woman, they began making cat calls, clearly intoxicated. The woman walked faster, paying little attention.
Avery, however, really did not want to be hassled. She stopped, looked around, and opted to take a back route through a nearby alleyway. Despite having set out early, she realized that the sun was beginning to set. "Crap," she said under her breath. This was exactly what she had not wanted to happen. Her pace quickened, and she tightened her jean jacket around her in the chilly evening air.
At this point, the alley was more narrow than Avery's arm span. It seemed to be longer than what she had thought. She rifled through her pocket, searching for her phone. Maybe she could get directions to bypass the route with the cat callers.
Of course, the phone told her that there was no service in the dark alley. Avery grumbled to herself before deciding that she should probably turn around and just risk going by the drunk men.
As she slipped her phone back into her pocket, Avery stopped. Just around the corner, she heard voices. Whoever was in that alley at this time of the night was probably not up to anything good, but Avery really needed to know how to get out of there.
Which is why Avery found herself creeping up to the corner and cautiously leaning around.
It took her eyes a minute to focus on what she saw. When she did, her heart nearly stopped. Not ten feet away, two men stood talking in hushed tones.
And one had a gleaming metal arm.
It would be more accurate to say that one of the men talked in hushed tones. The man with the metal arm just listened to him. The speaker was mostly hidden by shadow, and Avery could only catch traces of what he said- "S.H.I.E.L.D.," "Operation," and "Do not fail."
Every instinct screamed at her to run, yet she leaned closer to try and hear more. As she did so, her foot made a loud scraping noise, contacting a wet spot on the gravel. Both men instantly perked up, and the conversation cut off.
A few heartbeats of silence passed. Avery didn't dare breathe.
The speaker waved his hand, as if to say, "Take care of it," then shoved his hands in his pockets and walked the other direction.
The soldier with the metal arm did not move for what felt like forever. Finally, he turned and scaled the wall, ascending up the building with the speed of an olympic rock-climber. With one final flip, he cleared the roof and was gone.
Avery watched. And waited. She stayed motionless for so long that her left foot fell asleep. When she was positive that he really had gone, she turned back, collapsed against the wall and sank to the ground. She covered her face in her hands, wondering at the bad luck she had to be this close to criminals two days in a row.
Her breathing finally slowed, and she gave one final huff before scrambling off the ground. Still leaning on the wall with one hand, she bent to dust off her pants.
Whump.
Adrenaline surged in Avery's veins she felt herself pinned against the wall at the wrist, the wind knocked out of her as her back hit the wall. She cried out and struggled without thinking, bringing a knee up to kick her assailant. She immediately found her leg pinned to the wall by his. His other hand went over her mouth, and she struggled in earnest, screaming even though all that came out were muffled whimpers.
She thrashed around, but suddenly realized that what was pinning her wrist to the wall felt cold. Metallic.
Avery looked up into empty, ice-blue eyes.
She only had a moment's recognition before thoughts of I'm going to die here, he's going to kill me and no one will ever know, I'll be on one of those missing person crime shows and they'll never find my body-
She gasped for air, and made one last desperate attempt.
"I saved your life yesterday! You owe me!" she managed to squeak through his fingers.
He stopped moving. The calculating, detached stare faded into guarded perplexity. His grip slackened, and his hand fell from her mouth.
He said nothing. After a moment, he slowly reached up to take the mask off his mouth. All Avery could hear was the rushing of blood in her ears and her own frantic breathing. His stare burned into her face.
"When did...do you know me?" he asked haltingly. He was still wary of her, and it showed in his expression. Avery made an attempt to calm herself before answering.
"No, I just saw you yesterday, remember? You were in the street, and a car almost hit you. I warned you to get out of the way."
His brow furrowed. He paused a minute before he said, "No. I don't remember."
Avery's breathing had finally slowed. She gulped. "You must've had a lot of near-death experiences yesterday if you don't remember that one."
He grimaced, leaving her conjecture unanswered.
Taking a step back, he let her down from the wall. Neither moved.
They sized each other up. Although he was only a few inches taller than her, his muscular frame told Avery of exactly how much damage he could do. Avery was shocked to realize that he was young- he looked to be in his twenties. He had a handsome face, and smelled like metal and gunpowder. She suddenly became aware of how closely they were standing in the dark alley. Her eyes quickly flitted down to his arm, which no longer whirred when he moved. She guessed someone had repaired it. After all, she had seen the damage Cap did to it with his shield.
His metallic fingers twitched and closed into a fist. He seemed uncomfortable being so close to her, and took another few steps back.
She squinted, noting for the first time that he still had pistols strapped to his thighs. A large assault rifle was slung over his back. This, coupled with his leather outfit, made him look like he was ready to go charging into combat.
"Are you the Winter Soldier?" she blurted.
He remembered himself and straightened, regaining the cold stare. Avery shrunk back a little, really hating her lack of a filter.
"The Winter Soldier does not exist." He shuffled back again, turning to leave. "Forget you saw me. Consider my debt to you paid."
He was quickly disappearing into the darkness. "Wait!" Avery started, reaching toward him. To her surprise, he did wait.
"Why were you fighting Captain America?"
His entire profile went taut as a wire. He spun and walked back to her so speedily that her back bumped up against the wall again in an effort to keep her distance. His metal arm again pinned her a second time. She froze.
"What do you know about him?" he hissed.
He was so focused on the answer to his question that Avery forgot to breathe. His face hovered inches from hers.
"Nothing, I don't know anything!" His eyes narrowed. "I mean, no more than the next person!"
"Which is what?" he pursued.
"Ummm, okay, okay...he's actually from the 1940s. He underwent some genetic experimentation, which is what turned him into a super soldier. He joined the army and fought Nazis, but he had to crash land a plane in the arctic and he froze. They just found him recently, and revived him, and then he saved the world with the Avengers when aliens attacked New York. He's one of the good guys. That's about all I know, I promise!"
As soon as Avery said "joined the army," she saw that she had struck a chord. He winced, stumbling back and clutching his head.
"...Are you okay?"
His teeth clenched. He was visibly struggling with something. The man grunted, and breathed quickly through his teeth. His back bumped the wall. She started forward, as if to catch him.
He looked back up, and his hands left his head. What Avery saw almost made her jump back again. The empty stare had been replaced by one of pure agony. Whatever he was remembering, it caused him unimaginable torment. As he looked at her, he winced again, gave a muffled cry, and fell to his knees, head buried in his hands.
A few heartbeats passed. Every few seconds, he seized, wracked with pain. Avery stood, unsure of what to do. She looked around, at war with herself.
She shook a little, then swallowed her fear. As cautiously as she could, she inched toward him. Both her hands were raised in a placating gesture.
"Hey," she whispered softly. "It's okay. You're okay."
She got to her knees on the ground before him. Tentatively, she reached out a hand. Her fingers met the back of his fist, which still twitched in pain. He did not respond to her contact. She gulped, wondering why the heck she was reaching out to a known assassin-
Ever so gently, she uncurled his fist and held it between her hands. "Hey."
He stopped moving. Slowly, he raised his head and met her eyes. They were filled with tears. A few spilled over and ran down his cheeks, but his face expressed nothing. He was back to being the cold, emotionless soldier. If she looked close enough, Avery could almost detect a flicker of fear in his eyes.
He stood suddenly. In a flash, he had the mask back on his face. With one last hard stare at the girl, he turned and ran soundlessly away. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
All that could be heard was the breeze, faintly whispering after him. Avery was left sitting in the dark alley alone, wondering if it had all been a hallucination.