"Never trust anyone, especially the people you admire. Those are the ones who will make you suffer the worst blows." – Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

I. III. 7 April 2014

It felt like he had lost an entire day to traveling. Granted, it hadn't been on foot this time (which made it slightly more bearable), but with the company of Stark's personal driver and one of his closest friends (which made it that much more unbearable). Republic, Washington, as he found out the town was called soon after stumbling into it, was almost six hours by car from Seattle. From there, it was another six hours from Seattle to New York, by private jet this time. Had Engineer Higurashi not known better, he would almost say he felt kidnapped. The one thing that stopped him from going that far was that both Fury and Hill vouched for Stark and his trustworthiness, especially in matters involving foiling the plans of the U.S. government.

But he didn't get to this point in his life by trusting just anyone, not anymore. He may be naïve and looked for the best in others, carryovers from his childhood days, but working for a secret government agency with compartmented clearance levels taught him the value of trust. So he let Happy Hogan do all the talking for the entire trip, barely answering when needed. Had he still been under the age of twelve, he would have been thrilled and bouncing in his seat from joy, because not just anyone gets to meet and work for the child genius, one of the youngest CEO's, billionaire philanthropist, and suave playboy known as Tony Stark.

That, however, was the person he was fourteen years ago.

Now… Now he didn't know what kind of person he was, or even if his younger self would be proud at being this person. He gave up football and childhood heroes for technology and government agencies and anonymity. Few of it was by choice, but he had long learned to leave it at "what happened, happened."

Maybe, just maybe, he could look at this change as one for the better. At some point, he had to start living for himself and doing what he wanted rather than what others wanted or needed.

She hadn't been to Santa Rosa in almost one-hundred-and-ten years, nearly to the day and year. But—no, she couldn't dwell on those thoughts. She had a mission, a reason, for being back on the West Coast of North America. The sip she took of her black coffee was deliberate, just like the way she smoothed down the napkin notes she had with her other hand. It held all the reasons why she needed to focus on the present, not the past.

Three days ago, she had been living a quiet (or as close to it as she could get) life in Peru, but there was no city she could run to that was completely disconnected from the rest of the world. Three days ago, S.H.I.E.L.D. fell and was branded a terrorist organization by the U.S. and world governments. She heard whispers of HYDRA, but she couldn't confirm that and neither could her case worker. But it all meant that technically, she didn't have one of those anymore and her agreement with S.H.I.E.L.D. was also null and void.

It was easy enough for her to ditch the agent, and easy enough to leave Peru undetected as well. But it also meant—

Souta.

She had to get to Souta. There was no way for her to know what S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fall meant for him, if he was safe, if he was in prison, if he had been—no, she couldn't think like that. Not at a time like this. She only had to focus on getting to him undetected and as fast as possible. Many things in the past may have happened, but his safety was always her top priority.

Santa Rosa was as close as she dared to get to the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Washington where he was stationed. While she may have been able to ditch her babysitter and the world's governments may have denounced S.H.I.E.L.D., she knew better. She knew the agency better than anyone, and she knew it wasn't entirely gone. Not yet. Just as she knew whatever managed to bring it out and down was dangerous to her and her brother. And if there was one lesson she had learned (painfully, slowly), it was about the importance of discretion.

She could only hope to make it to him in time to save him.

"Oh! He's on again! Turn it up!" She started and spilled some of her coffee over her hand and her messy notes at the sudden, and far too close, yell of another woman.

Hissing, she was ready to yell the ear off whatever air-headed woman decided to yell about something so mundanely human when she noticed that everyone was focused on the shop's TV. And she did mean everyone. Upon seeing Tony Stark take the stage, she rolled her eyes and just about turned away.

But there—

Souta.

Her earlier ire faded as quickly as it came in favor of a small, fond smile. The years had, apparently, been good to her baby brother. She didn't even try to hear the broadcast over all the adoring gushes of women wanting into the billionaire's pants, reading the reel at the bottom instead.

He was safe. While she didn't agree with the Avenger's Initiative, and Stark Industries even less, she knew he was the only one who could keep a recently branded former terrorist protected. That was enough for her.

She crumpled her plans to get to Washington, shoving them into her half-full coffee cup and throwing it all away on her way out of the shop. Instead, she had new plans involving New York to make.

Updated 9 September 2015

Thank you all for all the lovely reviews! I may not get to respond to you all, but I definitely love seeing your speculations, what you liked (and what you didn't), and what you're looking forward to. They always make me smile, and I can only hope you all enjoy this chapter as well.