Inhale. Exhale. The soft rush remains constant and slow as though mocking the frantic pace of your feet against the ground. Your position was compromised, though in all fairness, you hadn't expected him to be there waiting in the shadows. He was supposed to be otherwise preoccupied with his mission.
You focus on the sound of your breathing as you run, thighs burning with the extra effort as you sprint farther than you ever have before. Even training had been a cake walk compared to this. Then again, training had been false missions that were only pretending to take your life. This was a real mission only pretending it had promises of safety. Your mind whirls a mile a minute, hardly daring to turn your head as though it will ruin the aerodynamics you've already put into play.
It's a foolish thought, but you cling to whatever you can to make it. You cling to whatever you can to make it back.
You hear the heavy boots before you see the shadow looming up from behind. Your heart is in your throat almost as badly as it was you met the other one for the first time. They had known each other at one point, or at least, that's what he told you. They were friends - brothers - in a world and time that they needed each other most. You had nodded solemnly, listening carefully as he slowly began to open up. Even his teammates had been surprised at that, especially Natasha. The Widow had been trying to get something more out of him other than they're friendly banter for months and here you were, doing it in mere weeks.
She had befriended you not long after that and it became more than obvious that she was highly protective of him. You'd smile about it now if it wasn't for the ghost of a man hot on your tail. Instead, you swerve quick, ducking low and barely clearing a beam that's been brought down in the destruction of the evening. You still can't quite figure out how the Hydra operative had anticipated your covert mission.
And that's when you start to think. Maybe your mission wasn't the one lost in anonymity as deeply as you were led to believe. Maybe it was the Avengers mission that had the greater secrecy. A silent curse moves your lips, shoulder gently buffeting off of a wooden crate on its end as you continue to move through the nearly destroyed warehouse.
Your mission had been simple... or was that merely what the had wanted you to believe? Your thoughts are cut short as the shriek of metal against cement rings through the air behind you, momentarily muting out any other noise. You know the Winter Soldier has found your new trajectory...
And still, you run.
It's all you have left in you to keep from screaming as the bullet pierces your shoulder, burying itself in your shoulder blade. Your breath hitching, feet stumbling as you grab a nearby crate to keep your upright. Still, you press on. You know that's what he'd want you to do, because it's the right thing to do. It's what he would do, too.
Your breaths come in ragged pants, the pain painting them with heat as your brow slicks with sweat. You slow to a fast jog, ducking behind a row of metal barrels that probably contain something flammable. You drop low, crawling along them to try to get to the other side...
and that's when you hit the wall.
You suck in a breath, gasp coming unbidden as your fists slam into the rough concrete frame. Your eyes go wide, panic taking over before you can stop it. Fingers slide along the rough, gray surface, skin scraping and breaking as you search frantically for some sort of ledge - even a small indentation - on which to climb. You breathe hard, eyes darting to the side as you realize you're trapped in a dead-end, every bit the mouse that the Winter Soldier has wanted you to be from the beginning.
Tears come unbidden, blurring your line of sight as you press yourself against the wall and pull yourself into a low crouch to avoid being seen. This isn't at all what you had planned. This isn't want you wanted or what you deserved after dedicating your life to S.H.I.E.L.D. or to the man that had stolen your heart.
It had taken months for him to admit that he loved you, but only one more beyond that for him to drop to one knee in the middle of Central Park. His cheeks had been flushed, eyes bright with worry that after everything you two had shared, that you would deny him the right to make an honest woman out of you. You had wanted to yell at him for his word choice, then. You had wanted to slap him and tell him to stop thinking like it was 1944. Instead, you had placed your hand over your mouth, eyes tearing as you waited for him to actually ask you what he had been planning all along.
"Lilly? Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
You had nodded then, tears streaming from your eyes, and reached out for him. He hadn't even paused, standing and wrapping his muscular arms around you. He had lifted your frame then, holding you as though you were nothing more than more than the delicate flower that was your namesake.
The flash of silver comes before you even truly realize he's standing in front of you, a metal arm punching straight into the thick cement wall mere inches from your head. You gasp, looking up into the blue eyes of the Winter Soldier. Even after all the stories you've heard, you hadn't truly prepared yourself to see the empty, dead gaze looking back at you. You had expected malice, hatred, or even simple rage...
But there was nothing, not even the faintest hint that any sort of conscious thought truly existed. At least, not anymore.
You tremble as he slowly pulls his metal arm from the wall, his gaze never leaving yours as he takes a step back and reaches for the firearm slung from his shoulder. Your eyes follow the movements, body numbing with the realization that you are about to die. Your chin lifts, jaw clenching in defiance as he takes his aim and you pull yourself to your feet. If you're going to die, you're going to do it with dignity.
"Goodbye, Steve," you murmur, voice tense and small in the thick of the moment as you lift your left hand and swipe at a stray tear clinging to your cheek.
All at once, everything freezes, the Winter Soldier's entire being going tense as he stares at your hand as you slowly lower it to your side. He shifts his stance, the muzzle of his gun going askew as his eyes widen. His icy gaze seems to warm, even if it's barely anything more than a flicker of recognition. Still, his course is clear as he swings his gun around, the butt of it slamming hard into your temple.
A soft groan floats around you, eyes fluttering as you come to eventually. You have no idea how long you've been down...
Better yet, you have no idea why you're even still alive. You blink once, brow twitching and slowly lowering as you realize that you're staring up at a sky cluttered with graying clouds. Your head hurts, thickening your thoughts to a substance no less than molasses as you try to remember. Instead, there's a crackle at the edge of your hearing, followed by a voice that you recognize.
"Agent... Damn it! Do you copy!?"
You sit up, a wave of dizziness washing over your as you press gently against your tragus to activate the comm-link.
"Y-Yea... Yea, Steve, I'm here," you breathe out, a faint cloud of mist leaving your mouth as you slowly look around. You have no idea why you survived, only that your one of the few that can say you've met the Winter Soldier and lived.