Louder louder
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say


There was an unsettling feeling of dread in the air when Charlotte returned to her apartment. Naturally, the lights were still off and nothing seemed to have moved but something felt different. There was iciness in the air that hadn't been there before and it made her nauseous.

Shivering, Charlotte threw her keys in the dish by the front door and slipped off her jacket as she glanced around her small apartment. In her hand she grasped the takeaway bag tightly almost waiting for something to jump out and scare her – but nothing did. Of course not, idiot, she thought to herself as she threw her leftover Greek gyro into the dark fridge, because nothing is in your flat.

With a sigh, she carefully straightened out her posture and winced as a slicing pain shot through her still-tender ribs. Cursing quietly, Charlie leaned on the counter to catch her breath. She'd done a lot since being released from the hospital, maybe a little too much if she was honest, and it was only now all starting to catch up to her. She was tired, sore, and for the most part still annoyed with how the week had gone. Not even the gyro and a full belly could help those feelings.

Coming home to a dark apartment certainly didn't help matters any and neither did the fact that her landlord was still MIA. How long did she have until the food in the fridge would thaw? What was she going to do in the middle of autumn with no heat whatsoever? Another angry hiss escaped through her pink lips, only this time it wasn't due to the pain resonating from her side. Sheer annoyance plagued the blonde as she sat in her dark kitchen shaking her head.

Deciding that she was going to try and reach the oaf that was her landlord for what felt like the umpteenth time this week, Charlie pulled out her cell and thumbed his contact one final time.

It went straight to voicemail.

"This has to be a joke." She grumbled to herself, tossing the phone across the counter as a tiny fit of rage overcame her. She wanted nothing more than to leave him a verbal voicemail and lay into him but she knew that would get her nowhere. So, rather than stewing in her own mind, she pushed herself off of the counter and walked towards her bedroom. If she wasn't meant to have power she would just go to sleep and hope for the best come morning.

She changed out of her clothes rather slowly as exhaustion ate away at her. Kicking her boots off into the corner of her room, she slid off her jeans and replaced them with a pair of short plaid pajama shorts and a loose fitting v-neck before falling into her plush bed. With a long sigh she allowed her body to relax as she tried her damnedest to destress or, at the very least, succumb to the fatigue that had been plaguing her all week long.

But just as she was about to let her heavy eyelids fall shut, the faint sounds of footsteps caught her attention.

An immediate surge of panic coursed through her entire body as her eyes flew open in an attempt to see through the darkness of her room.

Someone was in her apartment and had it not been for the eerie silence that followed after the power outage she never would have heard.

An overbearing panic settled in her chest as she thought of how she could get to the bat hidden beneath her bed but she couldn't move. She was immobilized by fear and that alone was enough to scare her even more.

3…2…

She quickly turned and lunged for the bat but was stopped the second a body tackled her back onto the bed. Immediately, a blood curdling scream tore from her throat but the attackers hand quickly smacked a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Frantically, she fought against him, thrashing wildly in an attempt to break free of their firm grip.

"Get off of me!" Thinking fast, she swung one of her arms back and grabbed his crotch with all her might as her nails dug into the sensitive area. Immediately, the man's grip lessened just enough for her to elbow him as hard as she could in the gut before breaking free.

With shaky, labored breaths, Charlie ran towards the front door but was stopped by a second man almost instantly. He grabbed her arms first and swung her around so one of his thick arms was wrapped around her throat as the other held onto her middle in an attempt to stop her from thrashing about.

She could feel every stitch she'd acquired in the hospital rip open as she attempted to break free and the overwhelming pain resonating from her ribs was almost blinding at this point but she couldn't stop fighting. She wouldn't. These men were either going to kill her or take her and if that was the case she sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight.

As if on cue, the other man stumbled out of her room a moment later looking angry as all hell. He was tall, much taller than the man holding her and as broad as a linebacker but it was the look of absolute disdain on her face that scared her half to death. He meant business – just what that business was, however, she had no idea.

"Handsy little bitch, aren't ya?"

The back of his hand hit her newly acquired scar that ran along her jaw and split the sensitive skin instantly. With a tangled sob, Charlie allowed her body to stop fighting for only a moment before looking back at the man that stood before her.

He looked smug now as he wiped the blood – her blood - off of his hand and the sight of it alone was enough to trigger a sensation so foreign that she saw double. It felt as though her entire body was on pins and needles and the pain resonating from her ribs was no sooner replaced by a white hot burning sensation that cut her like a knife. She was shaking all over, her hands specifically, and though she wanted to blame it on shock or adrenaline – she knew better.

This, whatever it was, was different.

A loud scream ripped from her throat as the blinding pain inside of her finally took over. She heard the two men question what they were witnessing in the back of her mind, but they suddenly sounded far away and muffled as the man's arm fell from around her neck.

The next few seconds seemed to go on forever as something inside of Charlotte sparked to life. She saw herself raising her hands towards the two men but she didn't feel in control – in fact, she felt nothing as the pins and needles overtook her entire body. It wasn't until a blinding white pulse seemed to shoot from her hands and hit one of the men head on that Charlie felt her heart drop.

The man fell to the floor a second later. Smoke filtered from his lifeless body.

"What—" She looked at the other man who looked just as shocked as she felt but rather than running as she hoped he would, a look of determination spread out across his angry features as he took a step towards her. "Stop!" She screamed as another blast shot out from her hands but it hadn't been as large as the other one that had killed his partner and merely grazed his shoulder.

Unfortunately, this gave the man ample opportunity to grab the blonde and try to finish what he and his partner had started only minutes before. His hands grabbed at her neck as he pulled something out of his pocket and as she struggled against him, she couldn't help but notice it was a syringe of some sort. Panic set in as she fought off the hand holding the needle.

That was when the sensation started again.

That hot, searing pain took hold of the woman once more as she fought for her life only this time only this time there was no space between her and the man as the white light shot out from her hands. It was as if a pulse of electricity shot through her as the man flew across the room, stopping only when his lifeless body hit her kitchen counter.

The smell of burning flesh immediately met her senses as she choked back a sob and stared down at her shaking hands. What had just happened? What had she done? Two men lay dead on her floor because of her – because something had sparked to life inside of her in those few minutes of complete chaos and killed them.

Her stomach gave a vicious flip as her knees buckled beneath her and as she ran a trembling hand over her face, she realized only then that her nose was bleeding. With exhaustion and stress weighing on her, Charlotte stumbled over to the window only to notice the entire street was left in darkness.

Another blackout.

She felt dizzy all of the sudden. What the hell had happened to her that night of the blast? She knew something felt different but not the kind of different that leaves you with sparks flying out of your hands. Her head swirled and she grasped onto the nearest chair to stop herself from succumbing to the exhaustion that plagued her entire body.

Suddenly an extremely loud bang sounded from her front door and as she spun on her heel to peer at the source of it, her heart fell to her stomach. How many more of these people were there? Within a moment, the door splintered and shot open revealing a man with long dark hair wearing a brown jacket and a black cap. He looked at her warily before his eyes caught sight of the two dead men that lay off to the side.

Another wave of nausea hit as she stared back at the man who was yet to say a word. Would he try and handle her the way the other two had? Unfortunately, she didn't have much time to think about his possible motive as one final wave of exhaustion crashed upon her and her whole world went black.


An hour and a half had passed since Bucky had watched the blonde collapse to the floor and he had since tied her up to the nearest chair and waited for any sign of life to show besides the slow rise and fall of her chest.

He felt anxious simply just waiting there but after managing to get the two bodies out of her apartment, he had nothing but time to wait for the woman to wake up. He had questions – more so now that she had killed two agents with such ease – and he'd wait all night to get them if he had to.

The power was still out in her apartment and on much of the street – something he was sure was attributed to the fact that Hydra had done exactly what they wanted to do to get their newest weapon prepared for duty. All except actually capture her which was obviously what went down tonight.

He had been waiting outside of her apartment when he heard a scream followed by an extremely loud vibration that darkened the entire street.

She'd given the entire block a power outage and killed two Hydra agents in one fell swoop.

Whoever she was, she was powerful, and the flimsy rope tying her to that chair was starting to look a little feeble compared to the power source this woman apparently was.

A quiet, barely-there groan escaped from her lips as she began to come to life and on reflex alone, Bucky sat up a little taller in the chair and clenched his jaw as he mentally prepared to deal with another one of Hydra's experiments. Her head lulled to the side at first but her eyes stayed shut for the longest time before they finally opened up to reveal an extremely tired pair of stormy eyes.

When she saw Bucky sitting across from her, he noticed her inhale a rather shaky breath before speaking.

"What do you people want with me?"

His fists curled at the accusation despite knowing she meant no harm in the question. She had no rhyme or reason not to believe that Bucky was with the men who had just tried to abduct her but the anger that poured through his every vein was still overwhelming.

"I'm not one of them." He nearly growled. Not anymore.

On instinct, he watched her strange eyes float towards the area where the two bodies once sat and noticed the exact moment she realized they were no longer there. In an instant, her eyes were back on him as she attempted to fight against the ropes. "Where did they go?"

Bucky blinked and relaxed ever so slightly as he noticed the ropes seemed to hold their place. "I took care of it."

There was a deep purple bruise on her cheek where she had obviously been hit but it was the scar that lingered that caught his attention. He remembered seeing the gash the night he had brought her out of the rubble of the bar but seeing the obvious scar that was forming because of it stirred something in his stomach. It was a bestowal left by Hydra that this woman would forever carry. An ugly scar marring an otherwise pretty face. She'd always be forced to carry a piece of them around with her everywhere she went.

Just the way they liked it.

"Who are you?"

The words floated from her mouth with ease but he wasn't about to answer her. Instead, he simply glanced around the small apartment for any signs of trouble. It was habit and it gave him time to think of just what exactly he wanted to ask her.

"Why are you here?"

Again, he looked up at her but said nothing. He knew she was scared and he could see the confusion she felt as clear as day – but he would offer no words of solace. He had none. He was here for his own questions, not to supply answers to hers.

"You look familiar." The statement blindsided Bucky for a moment. She had said his name that night of the blast with such assuredness despite her near-death state but the confusion her tone held now was something he hadn't expected. "Have we met?"

The muscle in Bucky's jaw clenched as he tore his gaze away from her to look down at his lap. She didn't remember – that was both good and bad.

"I know your father," was all he said on the matter, chancing a look back at the woman. Her brows furled at his words but there was a sadness in her eyes that had not been there before. "Knew him." He corrected. She was quiet after that and Bucky figured now was as good as time as any to begin asking his own questions. "Do you know who those two men were?"

The blonde shook her head and Bucky noticed the fight that had been in her earlier was long gone. Now, she simply looked worn out. She didn't attempt to fight against the ropes – she hardly managed to lift her head up high enough to look him in the face.

"No," she told him. "They knew me, though." She glanced across at him and took in his features. She started at his face, and then down to his shoulders before glancing over his clothes. He felt uncomfortable under her stare and maybe that had to do with the fact that he wasn't entirely sure he hadn't been the one to deliver the blow that killed her father. Not after that dream. The images of her father fighting against the restraints that held him still plagued his every thought. "Do you know who they were?"

Bucky nodded only once. "Hydra."

Another look of confusion passed over the woman's features as she slowly shook her head. "Hydra? What would they want with me?"

"I was going to ask you that," was all he said. "Why were they after you?"

A look of anger passed over the woman's features as she stared him down. She still looked exhausted, absolutely worn out, but the moment the question left his lips it was as if a tiny spark had ignited.

"I didn't get a chance to ask them." She let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff and Bucky found his eyes drawn back to the ropes that held her wrists. They still weren't budging all that much but that small revelation didn't help his morale one bit. She killed two men with what looked like an electrical shock – rope wasn't going to stop her if she decided to do that again. "I don't know why two strange men showed up in the middle of the night and attacked me. Nor do I know who you are or why I know your face or why you tied me up."

"You killed two Hydra agents. For all you knew, I could have been the third. I wasn't going to take that chance."

She sighed. "I don't know how I did that, either."

Bucky squared his shoulders at the tone she was using. The last thing he wanted was this girl getting overly emotional after what he'd just witnessed. "What do you know?"

Charlotte blanched as she glowered across at the dark-haired man. "A week ago I was in an explosion that I hardly remember where I magically survived only to find out that I died for a few minutes while I was in the hospital. And now, tonight – after a week from hell – I shoot white things out of my hands and kill to men in the midst of them trying to abduct me only to wake up tied to a chair with you looking as brooding and menacing as ever." She took a shaky breath and Bucky could easily see the panic in her eyes. "And you have the audacity to ask me what I know?"

Bucky searched the woman's face as he thought of all the questions that needed answering. She truly didn't seem to know a thing but even with that knowledge he couldn't find it in himself to stand up and walk away. The blonde had actually addressed him as Bucky Barnes – but how? Even her father wouldn't have known him as Bucky so how on earth did this girl manage to say his name whilst barely conscious?

That was when her words struck him.

'Only to find out I died for a few minutes while I was in the hospital.' His stomach knotted at that small disclosure as he thought back to the dream that had been plaguing him since he woke up.

"You see, Mr. Quartermain, we've been working on something for a while now. A serum, if you will. But in order for it to work your body needs to be immersed into complete stress. That's the only way to activate it, really." Bucky noted the way Pierce moved around the man on the chair. "But don't worry, Clay. If we wanted to truly kill you – for good – you'd be dead already." The man placed a hand on Quartermain's shoulder. "At least this way it'll only be for a few minutes."

Realization hit Bucky like a ton of bricks as he angrily breathed out through his nose.

Hydra's plan was now complete.

They'd actually managed to create a new weapon. The only part of their plan that was still pending was actually attaining their brand new weapon where they would undoubtedly wipe her clean just like they had done with him.

"You know something."

Her voice managed to tear him away from his thoughts as he looked past the fog in his head towards the blonde. She was looking directly at him and any trace of exhaustion she previously wore was now gone and replaced with a look of pure determination.

Bucky shook his head. "I—"

"How did you know my father?" Was the first question that tumbled from her lips. "He died seven years ago – you don't look old enough to have been chummy with him before he died so how did you know him?"

Bucky swallowed hard but said nothing. To say things were not going according to plan would have been an understatement.

Suddenly a look of pure bewilderment flashed across the woman's face as she surveyed his every feature. "Were you in Slovakia with him?"

The name of the country alone was enough to garner a wince from the man as he lowered his blue eyes down to the ground separating them. Immediately an array of images straight out of his dream flooded through his mind and left him reeling. He felt sick all of the sudden and he knew right then that coming here was a mistake.

In a heartbeat, Bucky was standing up to his full height as he readjusted the cap on his head. This had been a mistake.

"Wait," she cried out, her voice panicked. "Were you there? In Slovakia?"

"No," he said as he walked towards her window to peer down at the empty street below. "Never been."

"You're lying to me," he could hear her struggling against the ropes and knew he had to go. When he turned to face her, the look in her eyes was desperate. "Who are you?"

With one final shake of his head, Bucky moved towards the woman and loosened the ropes just enough that she would be able to shimmy out of them in due time but not near loose enough that she would escape before he could do so himself.

He was just out the door when he glanced behind him to peer at the struggling woman once more. That familiar feeling of guilt was eating away at him as he thought about Hydra's plans for her. No one deserved that.

"You've got a target on your back now," he said quietly as he glanced around her apartment. "And Hydra doesn't miss." He ensured his eyes found hers one final time before opening up the front door. "You need to leave."

Those grey eyes were panicked again as he slipped out of her apartment and that niggling feeling of culpability ate away at him – but this time, he didn't turn around. He kept walking until he was safely in the shadows Charlotte's blackout had provided him.

With a subtle glance behind his back, he took one final peek up at her apartment before ducking his head down to ensure no one saw his face. He would head to Slovakia next. Maybe there he'd find some answers on whether or not it was him who delivered the final blow to Quartermain – and if he hadn't maybe he could find out what did happen seven years prior.

He needed answers in the worst way possible and now, as he walked away from the one woman who had recognized him since that day at the Potomac with Steve, he was dead-set on getting them.


A/N: This story is also being published on Tumblr on the account blueeyedbuck should anyone think that it's being stolen. It ISN'T. I'm just trying to get Fight or Flight on more outlets.