This chapter is called "Revenant" because school has made me a ghost of my former self.
…Okay, there's a different reason, but school IS why there was an unannounced hiatus. Thank tumblr user aseriesoftimeywimeyevents for spurring me to write this chapter (send her your prayers, she's going through some nasty health issues!) and thank buckysbeauty-capsbooty for the encouragement that makes me want to keep writing. Review at your leisure!
"The past is never where you think you left it."
~Katherine Anne Porter
Everything was too bright. Too bright and too loud.
A high-pitched beeping noise punctured the silence at steady intervals. The room was so white it made her ears ring. Gradually, her vision adjusted, though not without a shard of pain lodging itself in her temple.
She felt cold, and a scratchy, synthetic material enveloped her. It was a flimsy white smock. She could tell by the feel of the bed against her that it had an open back. Someone had draped a thin cotton blanket over her from the waist down, and the smell of disinfectant burned her nostrils.
What happened?
She eased up in the short bed. Relief flooded her tense frame when she saw her parents asleep in two separate chairs- her mom supporting her head on the armrest, her dad snoring facedown on a bedside table. A powder-blue plastic curtain divided the room. Someone pushed a gurney after a nurse that ran by the door.
Providence Hospital. The same place where her mom worked.
Her gaze traveled down to find a heart monitor on her index finger. It was insignificant- a small, gray box, the wire of which was hooked up to a machine at her side- but somehow it caused her to flinch.
The last time she had seen machinery and man working in tandem-
In a flash of memory, bluish white light raced down from the sky like a javelin, piercing and encompassing the man before her as his mouth opened in a silent scream.
-Beep BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP-
She yanked the heart monitor off, causing the device to flatline.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
Her parents jolted awake. Her mom was the first to make it to her side, her fingers flying over her daughter to check for vitals, while her dad yelled for a doctor.
"Sweetheart, it's okay! You're okay, you're okay-"
Avery's vision clouded again, this time with tears. She opened her mouth to say No, it's not okay, my friend's been kidnapped because of me and they're going to torture him again, but her throat was raw, and all that came out was a pitiful croak. She bit down on her lip and sobbed noiselessly from the trauma that was still affecting her. A few nurses ran into the room in a slow blur, and she hid her face in her arms as time lost meaning.
Later, they told her that she had been involved in a freak accident—that she'd been caught in the middle of a movie set during the filming of an action scene. Somehow, the camera people hadn't blocked off the road enough, and she had bit the back end of an exploding dummy car.
It should never have happened in the first place, they said. It was a miracle she hadn't been hurt more, they said.
The doctor told her parents she had sustained a "grade two" concussion, a cracked rib, and several serious contusions from being catapulted down the street- he even had the wherewithal to joke that he smelled a lawsuit.
After that, she laid in the bed like an empty shell, pretending to rest, and unwilling to give more than monosyllable answers to anyone. Scared to push her too soon, her parents hovered nearby in the hallway, coming in occasionally to offer timid reassurances.
Apparently, no witnesses had been around to testify to what really happened. Or maybe the Soldier's employers had planted fake witnesses to keep the government off their tail— she didn't know. But they hadn't had any problems planting fake security guards at the museum.
Even with her mind fogged by the head injury, Avery knew that telling anyone the truth would immediately endanger them. The people she had encountered had no qualms about using deadly force, and any person around her—even the doctors and nurses—could be one of them.
The 'rude customer' had hidden under the pretense of being an obnoxious low-life in McDonald's, but he had probably been tracking Captain Rogers for a while when Avery and Carmen encountered him. How else would he have ended up in the same restaurant as the superhero? He might even have instigated the whole situation so he could confirm that he was tracking the right man.
The way Rogers had protected her from him, and the way she had interacted with Rogers at the counter- it would be easy for an outsider to think that they knew each other.
She knew from the news footage how badly these people wanted to kill the Captain. They were probably willing to follow any lead they had. It wasn't all that shocking to think that desperate, unscrupulous men would go after her on the off chance she knew something they didn't. That explained why they'd sent the 'tourist' after her. They were trying to observe her habits through him, getting ready to strike and extract what information they could out of her.
But hey, they had hit the jackpot. They had come looking for a lead to their enemy and had found their greatest weapon instead.
It wasn't hard to act despondent when guilt was pumping like paralyzing acid through her veins. The concussions made her thoughts sluggish and slow, but her friend's imaginary screams for help echoed through her head, anyway.
She violently shoved the guilt away. The only person that knew of his capture was her. She couldn't wallow in self-loathing while they brutalized him. Who knew how long it would be before they truly had him back to factory settings, or tortured him so much that he was completely beyond repair?
Avery felt nauseous. And alone.
But she couldn't sit whimpering in the hospital bed. No one else was going to help him- it had to be her. S.H.I.E.L.D. was gone (or had gone so far underground from its recent bout with bad publicity that she would never find them in time), and the government wouldn't do anything. Even if she could prove what happened, they wouldn't care. The Soldier had assassinated known public officials; they would be grateful someone had taken him off their hands.
Who could she even trust, if it got down to it?
She sat in the cool room, her parents talking in hushed tones to one of the nurses in the hallway. Disconsolately, she sat up to go to the bathroom. For a frightening minute, the room spun like a tilt-a-whirl, and an excruciating pain in her skull left her gasping. She thought she might be sick.
The nurse outside did a double take when she saw Avery sitting up, and jogged into the room. Avery's parents followed suit.
"Bathroom?" the nurse asked. Avery peered at her distantly. She was a kind-looking black woman with braided hair. The lines around her eyes spoke of many days without sleep spent helping the injured and sick. They made her look older than Avery suspected she was. The nametag on her colorful pink scrub shirt said "Diane."
Avery nodded. Both her mom and Diane stepped up to help her off the bed, but the nurse said, "It's okay, momma, you take a break. I've got her."
She wrapped Avery's arm around her shoulder. Avery's mom sat in the chair again as she was ushered out into the hall.
"There we go, sweetheart," Diane cooed as Avery made it to the bathroom door.
A skeletal figure looked back at Avery from the mirror. She was extremely pallid, and the shadows under her eyes made her look like a strung-out drug addict. Even her curls were limp and flat. There was a deep gash on her cheek that had been taped closed.
When Avery was done in the bathroom, Diane shouldered her again to help her back to her room. By chance, Avery's eyes grazed over a big whiteboard on the wall. It had all the patients' names on it.
The third name from the top was Steven G. Rogers.
Avery stopped dead in her tracks.
"You alright?" Diane asked cautiously.
"Steve Rogers was here? The Steve Rogers?" Avery hissed, her headache amplified by the surge of blood through her veins.
Avery must have sounded like a fangirl or something, because Diane suppressed a smile. "Yup. Left just before you got here, earlier today. His friend brought him in here all beat up. Still kickin' those bad guys' butts, I suppose," she let out a raucous laugh.
"Where was he going?" Avery asked breathlessly.
Diane gave her a sidelong glance, hearing the desperation in her voice. "You know," she whispered conspiratorially, "I'm not supposed to talk about patients' personal information. But you seem pretty harmless, so I'll tell you what he told me."
Avery quivered.
"He said he was going to stay with a friend in New York. I think you know what that means. Those Avengers are having a reunion!"
The room was spinning again, but Avery didn't think it had to do with the concussion this time.
Rogers had been the Soldier's friend once. Maybe, just maybe, he would be willing to help.
The doctor had said he wanted to keep Avery under observation for an additional day because of the concussion. That sure as hell wasn't going to happen.
She would give it until dark.
After some coaxing from Diane, Avery's parents reluctantly went home for rest- but not before her dad could put some cheap flowers on her bedside table, quipping that she "was a real movie star now." Avery managed to give him an almost-convincing smile. They hugged her tight before they left.
The number of footsteps in the hallway dwindled with the setting of the sun. She waited for the patient across the hall to turn his lights out, and then she sprung into action. Again, the room wobbled back and forth in front of her.
She was not going to let this damn concussion stop her from finding help. Avery forced herself to breathe until it subsided.
When the room settled, she reached a blind hand out to feel for her jeans and shirt on the chair. Once changed, she crept out of her room, ducking behind the doorframe as a doctor passed, and padded toward the back entrance.
She pushed the door open quietly and just barely managed to avoid an EMT as he made for one of the ambulances. She had thought about leaving a note to her parents so they knew she hadn't been kidnapped, but she figured the first thing the police would do to find her was check the hospital security footage. She pinpointed a small camera on the outside of the building, pausing to give it a full view of her face.
By the time anyone saw that, she would have done what she needed to.
She turned. The black city yawned before her.
Going out alone like this was so incredibly stupid. But Avery was the Soldier's only chance.
She slipped into the night.
The trip to the metro station was only several miles, and with her walking quickly through the cold night air, she was there in under an hour.
When no one was looking, she hopped over the gate and got on the train that would take her to Dulles International Airport. With a chime and an automated recording telling passengers to step back, the doors slid shut, and the train surged forward.
Avery looked around the train car. There was a man with his earbuds in asleep toward the front, and a woman on her phone about midway to the farthest door. Scenery sped by in blurred fragments as she looked out the window. It was only around half an hour before she was off the train and at the massive airport.
The building was shaped vaguely like a glass treasure chest, and it spanned at least half a mile in width. A row of about twenty yellow taxis were parked temporarily in front of it, waiting for their passengers to grab their bags before each car zoomed away to find its next user. When she entered, Avery was met by the baggage check area for all the different airlines- some American, some definitely not. Even though it was only four in the morning, the whole place was buzzing with activity. Travelers from all over the world swarmed to and fro. Conversations in all languages reverberated off the concrete walls. Suitcases rolled and scuffed along the polished granite floor.
She hoped it would be easier to find Captain America in a crowd than it was to find the Soldier.
Her heart was beating hard again, which, of course, gave her another splitting headache. Grimacing in pain, she pressed a hand to her ear, and spun to maintain an eye on the ever-changing crowd around her. An airport guard seemed to notice her erratic behavior with a quirk of his brow.
She straightened and wiped her palm on her jeans. It hadn't occurred to her before, but she would probably never fully trust security guards again.
As she ducked into the crowd, she desperately hoped that she hadn't come too late. She had assumed the Captain would have gone home to pack when he left the hospital the day before, but if he had come here straight away, he was long gone by now. Even if she lucked out and he had gone home first, there was no way she could catch him if he'd been through security already.
It was like the universe was mocking her. Right as she formulated that thought, she caught the blur of a tall blonde man turning a corner to head to the security checkpoint.
She sped after him, rounding the same corner, and ran right into the rope of a queue. There was an I.D. check before the security checkpoint. He had already gotten past it and was disappearing into an even bigger crowd.
She panicked. What would she do if she didn't find him? He was her only chance—no, the Soldier's only chance. By God, she would pretend to have a gun and cause a scene if she had to. He would undoubtedly rush to take her down, and then she might be able to get a few words in.
With dread, she became aware of all the airport security guards that were posted around the area. One of them might shoot her first, but she was willing to bet the Captain wouldn't let that happen.
Then again-thinking they'd shoot her assumed that they were real security guards, and not more fakes planted by the Soldier's employers.
This was her only shot, she thought with a groan. Avery's fingers were actually forming the shape of a gun in her pocket when a pregnant woman dropped her bag up ahead.
It was almost comical how quickly the Captain materialized to help her.
There was no mistaking him. He wore a navy plaid shirt and jeans, and his serene face radiated earnestness and confidence. He handed the woman her bag with a respectful smile.
Avery could have leapt for joy, but reality quickly drained all of the joy out of her—how was she going to get his attention?
The set up of the airport prevented her from leaping over the queue and running to him—and that took for granted that a guard wouldn't tackle her before she cleared the first hurdle. And if the guards weren't actually guards, but more of the people that tried to kidnap her, they were certainly on the lookout for Captain America. Yelling his name would blow any anonymity the crowd had given him this far.
Her feet were rooted to the ground. Rogers turned to get back in line.
Avery screamed at herself to think, her judgment still impaired by her head trauma. She grasped for any idea, any iota of a plan, anything the Soldier had told her that could help her save him—
In a rush, the memory of their last conversation on the roof resounded in her damaged brain.
"Captain America was in my dream…I was calling him 'Captain Chrome Dome.'"
She gasped.
"HEY!" she yelled over the cacophony of the airport. "CAPTAIN CHROME DOME!"
A few people turned and looked at her oddly.
He, however, stopped and went perfectly still.
"Please, please, please," she whispered to herself, knowing what was at stake. Security guards agitated the edge of her vision.
Against what was probably his better judgment, his head turned in her direction. Even from her distance, he looked extraordinarily startled. His eyes focused on her immediately.
He strained to see who had called him the nickname he hadn't heard in over seventy years.