The Soldier and the Doctor

by thesoldiermormont

Set before, during and after The Winter Soldier. HYDRA hires Mallory Smith, a doctor and daughter to a HYDRA agent, to tend to the wounds of their assassin between missions. Mallory quickly becomes intrigued with the mysterious Soldier and enthralled with the charms of STRIKE agent Brock Rumlow and is caught up in the midst of a decades old conspiracy to take control of the world.

7. I'm Just a Doctor

The technicians were working on a new prototype for a stronger arm for the Soldier on Monday. David had talked her through the details, but it was far too scientific for her to understand. Something about how the arm would now be somehow sensitive to touch. Rumlow wasn't present either, which was strange as he had promised the night before he'd see her at work when he picked her up in the morning.

Maybe he's been pulled away on a mission again... all Mallory knew what that she missed him and she desperately wanted to see him again. They'd only slept together once yet the feeling of Rumlow inside of her was ordinary now, and she craved his skin on hers, his mouth on hers. He was an addiction, something that was consumed once and desired for the rest of her days. It was hard to concentrate and Mallory, normally so chatty, so alert, felt sluggish and tired without him. Even the Soldier seemed to notice, seemingly used to her mindless chatter when she woke him from his cryo-slep and checked him for his physicality and mental well being. He responded well but frowned when she'd left him on the coffin to look at the computer. Perhaps the Soldier did indeed find her interesting and desire for her voice in the silent lab even if he rarely responded.

Rumlow... her thoughts lingered on his eyes, his mouth, his cock. His presence had temporarily banished the recurring dream of the metal armed man and the Soldier's cold eyes but she knew it would return eventually. Dreams like that always did. She just had to hope last nights dream of Rumlow and her on the beach- more like a recap of what had happened the previous night – would stay longer.

And then the computer whirred her out her thoughtful state. "Incoming call from Pierce. Accept?"

She knew Pierce wouldn't approve of the Soldier being out of cryo-sleep but it was too late to put him back. Motioning him to stay low but not hide, Mallory smoothed down her hair and smiled at the general direction of the AI.

"Accept." The computer patched her through and suddenly Pierce's face was magnified on the screen above them, a canvas of pink skin crisscrossed with lines of age. The Soldier glared at the screen with hatred; Pierce had contracted the Soldier to kill Reznak and the Soldier hadn't wanted to kill him. Mallory smiled at the screen.

"Sir?" Mallory questioned. He didn't look surprised that he was out of the coffin.

"Dr. Smith. Soldier." The Soldier didn't look up. "Come to my office. I have something to discuss with involves both of you."

And then he smiled. And it horrifying as he looked like a shark swooping in for the kill on a helpless little fish and a chill ran down Mallory's spine. Images of a shark with Pierce's head and a small fish that resembled Mallory entered her brain and she flinched when the shark dived and opened it's huge jaw.

But she hid it and smiled back. Then Pierce clicked off and Mallory and the Soldier immediately exchanged skeptical and worried glances.

"Any idea what he's talking about?" She double-checked to make sure he still wasn't on the line or listening. The Soldier shrugged at her and jumped off the coffin, padding over to the cupboard to rummage for a shirt to go with his sweatpants. Mallory smoothed back her hair again and waited for the Soldier to pull a shirt over his head and they walked from the lab. The armored guards followed them, and Mallory realized how weird they must've looked together, as she was wearing a t-shirt with Bart Simpson's face printed on it and the Soldier was barefoot. The technicians stared at the Soldier, and he ignored him as best as he could but Mallory could see their eyes glued to their technology on his arm or how his reputation seemed to follow him like an unwanted stray dog was really getting to him. The Soldier stared forwards with the intensity of looking towards a target and Mallory had her eyes on him, watching him as if he was about to attack.

The Soldier entered the office first and held the door for Mallory; she smiled up at him gratefully and murmured a thank you as she passed. As they sat, her gaze fixed at the shoulder joint of the Soldier's metal arm; the t-shirt cut off just before a patch of scarred skin and the metal arm that was implanted into his skin.

David had briefly explained the technology behind it when Mallory had questioned him. The Soldier's arm without the metal contraption would be stump just above the elbow; he wouldn't tell her what injury had caused it but he said it was a "royal mess". The metal contraption had been updated and remade over the years; evolving from a simple prototype electronic limb that allowed the user to move the thumb and forefinger into a full blown cybernetic prosthetic that connected the metal contraption to his brain through a chip and allowed him to move all fingers and bend the elbow. The metal it was made from was stronger then anything that was publicly known and gave the Soldier strength unparallelled in the battlefield. David had told her the scale design of the metal allowed for freedom of movement and protection of the chip, and he'd had a personal hand in designing the red star that adorned his shoulder like a tattoo, a Soviet-style stamp.

"Why a star though?" Mallory had asked, when they'd sat down together in the tech room. Mallory without realizing it, had made two friends in her new workplace; David sat with her whenever she had a dull moment and seemed to enjoy her company and the Soldier tolerated her pointless chatter. Rumlow didn't count as she hoped he counted himself as a boyfriend and Pierce frightened her.
"I dunno." David had shrugged. "It just seemed appropriate."

Lost in her memories, she hadn't realized Pierce had been speaking when he said her name.

"Yes, sir?" She looked up from the patch of scarred skin that she was staring at, and into her bosses eyes.

"We'll begin then." His eyes settled on the Soldier. "New mission, Soldier."

The change was immediate; his eyes hardened from a cool glance to a frosty glare and his back straightened, stiffened. Mallory recognized this look to be the same as the one he'd had when he'd left to kill Owen, when he'd been suited up. Pierce watched this change and grinned triumphantly, a proud father.

"A few months ago, I received a note from an inmate in a Russian prison. A written -" He threw the piece of paper across his desk and the Soldier picked it up and glanced at it. "-threat from that inmate."

Upon the paper were some words written in a rushed hand in what she assumed to be the Russian written language:

Я хочу отсюда, Пирс в противном случае я скажу.

The Soldier had understood and passed the paper back but when Mallory read it over his shoulder, she was confused.

"And for those of us who don't speak Russian?"

The Soldier answered for her. "It means the inmate is blackmailing him."

"Who was the inmate and why is he blackmailing you?"

Pierce was still grinning horribly, "The inmate is a former HYDRA agent named Elliot Kohl. He was captured and taken in a secret prison that was hidden from the Russian public. We believe they're conducting scientific experiments on the inmates."

"That's horrible."

"Indeed." His tone suggested he believed it was anything but. "However due to its secretive location, we haven't been able to track the prison." The question flared in Mallory's eyes and he answered it a second later. "Not only has Elliot been imprisoned, but also twelve members of the STRIKE task force, and seventeen HYDRA agents have been captured."

Mallory sat on the backrest of the Soldier's chair, and she noticed when the side of her thigh briefly brushed against the Soldier's back he didn't recoil from her. He seemed to be getting better.

"And how come you've just tracked the place now?"

Pierce held the note up. "The note was traced. It's deep in a forest in Russia. We have the coordinates. We're going to airdrop you both and have you both travel to the compound and get yourselves-"

Mallory heart had stopped. He had messed up his words. Perfectly natural mistake. "Sir, wait... 'both'? You can't mean-"

"Yes, Dr. Smith that's exactly what I mean. You're going with him."

Mallory stared at him, caught in a state of confusion and disbelief. She was dimly aware of her heart thudding in the distance, her blood boiling to the point of extremity and she was afraid it would spill from every pore as if she was a bloody waterfall. Pierce wanted her, a simple doctor, to go in the field with an assassin like the Soldier? He had lost the plot. He'd gone mental. What could she do out there? Heal the Soldier's scratches with some pine leaves?

The Soldier shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with this.

"But sir... I'm just a doctor what on earth would I do out there?" Mallory's voice was weak and pitiful; a squeak against the growl of the Soldier's voice when he spoke or the smugness that always crept into Pierce's smooth and composed tone.

"Our men are injured, mentally and physically. You will head into the forest with our friend here and tend to their wounds. The Soldier has... swooned over you and your abilities in our meetings together." Mallory ignored that final sentence and felt a sinking feeling, as if this was situation that would be hazardous and dangerous and a situation she could most certainly not get herself out of without causing injury to herself.

"But I've had no formal combat training." She was beginning to whine, like a child. True enough she was an official HYDRA agent but Mallory hadn't been trained in the delicate art of combat. She admired these people – the famous ones like Black Widow's legendary martial arts prowess, or Hawkeye's aim with his bow, or Melinda May's weaponry expertise – but there was no desire to become one of them. Mallory wasn't fat by any means but she was unfit; she couldn't remember the last time she had used a treadmill or a cross trainer. She could shoot a gun but preferred not to and there was no hand-to-hand training locked in her brain as a reflex apart from her brief quickly-punch-then-run encounters with any creepy guys at the student bars when she was at college.

"I've scheduled you in to receive it. By no means will you use this training; the knowledge you will be taught is a legal formality in the rare event that he cannot protect you. But your protection will be a key priority in this mission and I'm confident the Soldier will be able to protect you adequately."

Mallory glanced at the back of the Soldier's head and sighed. "I know he'll be able to protect me, sir, I trust him and his abilities it's just... surely you'd have medics who've been trained in the field who are more suitable for this job? I mean as far as I know my role only extends to a caring position for him, not a fully operational field agent."

Pierce clasped his hands on the desk and assessed Mallory with cold, critical eyes that he'd had in the interview room. She felt self-conscious under his gaze and shifted on the balls of her feet, praying he'd look away or settle his face into something less threatening.

"Mallory look around you. This is a top secret facility. I'm keeping secrets from him, from you, from everyone and I've learnt in this business to trust no one." He settled his gaze on her and Mallory breathed a sigh of relief. "Yet I believe that you can provide what I'm looking for in this. You can refuse if you want. I'll find someone else but I'll be severely disappointed."

The weight of his words felt like they were sinking Mallory underwater. Disappointment didn't mean a disapproving look or a lessening on her workload; it meant a bullet in the brain and a cover up. Mallory had walked from behind the chair and stood next to the chair, parallel to where the Soldier sat. They met each others instinctively, the Soldier's normally cool gaze replaced with some sort of feeling, an emotion. Pleading? He wanted her to come. Surprise flitted across Mallory, and she found herself nodding, her eyes still locked with the Soldier's hypnotic gaze.

"I'll do it."

Pierce breathed a sigh of relief.

The next week was devoted to training. The lab was cleared for them as a workplace and they had been provided with objects like guns and wooden planks to assemble and knives to play with, and Mallory had never been so sore in her entire life. Her thighs hurt, her calves hurt, her pelvis hurt, her neck hurt. Her arms hurt from holding a rifle to her chest and firing; her back ached from carrying the same rifle across her back.

Although it was hard and Mallory ended each four hour session, two a day with an hour break in between, with sweat dripping down her and an unattractive grimace plastering her face, it gave her a chance to see the Soldier in action. He'd asked HYDRA agents to come and help them, and he'd demonstrated a basic attack on them on the first day. Dressed in black pants and no shirt, as always, the Soldier had moved with a grace she could only described as beautiful. Despite his metal arm, his flips and spins mastered with athletic prowess she could sing about were not slowed down by the metal. He used anything and everything in his environment to execute his moves with fluidity and speed of a superhuman. He was mesmerizing to watch, a dancer, a fighter, aggression and beauty rolling together to create a destructive force that you couldn't help but watch. That same hypnotic feeling she'd gotten when he'd silently pleaded with her to say yes to this mission washing over her as his limbs and hair slid and fell and flipped and landed with on point precision.

Mallory hadn't exactly mastered the moves yet; her attempts to copy him had gone from shockingly awful to pitiful. He never spoke of his disappointment with her slow progress but it was there every time she jumped too soon, or landed wrong or was too slow or fast. Bruises covered her, wrapping her limbs in a canvas of black, blue, yellow and red. But she was getting better. No longer did she land dangerously on her back when she attempted to flip the HYDRA agent with her hands, or use a knife (with a dummy blade of course) to stab them in the calf. She wasn't a Black Widow by any means but she was better than the average civilian.

On the final day of training, Mallory arrived in the lab to see it swiped clean of the mats they'd been using or any guards. She woke the Soldier from cryo-sleep and asked what was going on.

"I wanted to do a final session by ourselves." He'd said quietly, leaping down from the coffin to begin warming up. Mallory followed the same warm up routine, taking off her light sports jacket and running shoes so she was stripped to a pair of black leggings and a bright yellow vest top. He was through his warm ups quicker then she was, and he waited patiently, watching as she bent to stretch her legs and rose up to stretch her back.

"Okay." She shook her legs. "I'm ready."

The Soldier and Mallory stood opposite each other, standing close but not touching and waited for the other to begin. The Soldier then assumed a defensive stance as if it was normal but Mallory stood neutral, feeling too silly to drop into anything defensive or offensive in front of this highly talented, highly trained killer.

And then he attacked. What didn't surprise her was the speed or complex maneuver he executed. Instead of just throwing a punch, he spun on his left leg to gain momentum to throw his right leg at her in a roundhouse kick. What did surprise her was the speed and simpleness of her own defensive move; she brought up her right arm as if she was getting ready to run a race and blocked the stinging blow with her forearm, rooting herself on her right leg. The Soldier nodded respectfully, waited a second then tried again with a slightly faster speed and different leg. Mallory blocked that too with her other arm. This time it had hurt more, as she'd had less control over her left arm then her right because she was right handed. But still the move was blocked from her face.

She had learnt something then. His endless drills and tactics had made an impression upon her. He nodded, satisfied with himself then walked over to the examination table. He lingered upon the weapons which lay in an orderly row, then he picked up a handgun, spun and fired in her general direction almost casually.

Mallory yelped as the gunshot rang out in the lab. He'd missed her by a wide shot, but as she stood and listened to the echo of the shot pounding in her ears, he had reevaluated his aim and was getting ready to squeeze the trigger once more. Was it a real bullet? She didn't know. Mallory had a second to move; what I do? Her Soldier responded in her head.

"If they aim for you full on, drop to the floor. Gets you quickly out of the way and leaves them wondering for a second."

She did just that. He fired again and missed, the shot whistling over her head. Her Soldier continued his instructions, a rapid fire whisper in her head.

"Use this second. Get back up and sprint for them. Depending on how far away you are, they'll be too stunned to react. Tackling is usually the best way to go."

She did just that, a war cry uttering from her mouth unnecessarily to try and install fear in the Soldier. She sprinted across the lab and body slammed the Soldier, hitting him with her full force.

They crashed together, flying into the examination table, a tangle of arms and legs, lying in a pile of the dented steel and scattered weapons. As Mallory had hit him, she'd felt the full surge of steel against her back, and had cried out in pain. The Soldier had crushed his left arm against the steel and dented the table from his metal arm. As Mallory untangled herself, disorientated and a little confused, she picked up the gun and aimed it for the Soldier's head, wobbling on her feet, her aim completely off course.

The Soldier sat up against the table, shifting slightly and curling his face up with pain. He eyed Mallory with the gun and nodded once. She silently placed the gun on the floor amongst its scattered brethren and held her hand out; the Soldier took it and hauled himself up with it.

"Are you okay?"

He answered almost angrily. "I'm fine."

The fact as he clutched his side and stumbled when he walked alerted her to the fact that he most certainly was not fine. Mallory sighed and draped his slightly heavier left arm across her shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Liar. I'm your doctor. You're not supposed to lie to your doctor." Mallory then realized what had happened. "Did I really hurt you? Wow, I must be getting better."

He shook his head at that and Mallory slid easily into her doctor mode. Her hands roamed his side, touching where his ribs were tenderly and asking him over and over "does this hurt? What about this?".

She diagnosed him with bruised ribs, due to the force which she'd tackled him and the way he had landed. She prescribed him with aspirin, and found an ice pack for him to hold up to his ribs to reduce the pain and swelling. As they sat, Mallory felt the guilt wash over her.

"Sorry." Yet she was grinning from ear to ear, a sick sense of pride confronting her. The Soldier didn't seem too bothered, rearranging the ice pack and shrugging.

"It's fine."

Mallory sat beside him on the coffin, feeling how hard the material actually was, and swallowed awkwardly.

"Hey I wanted to ask; you been having those dreams again?" He looked at her as if he'd had no idea what she was talking about. "The one about the falling?"

The Soldier made a noise of discomfort and shifted on the bed. He nodded once, looking towards the floor.

"Anything different?"

He shook his head again and supplied words this time. "Just the same as always. Falling through the snow."

Nodding, Mallory found her gaze fixed to an unruly thread on her leggings. She pulled it out and they sat together in a comfortable silence, both of them lost in thought.

The computer alerted them both. "Incoming call from Pierce. Accept?"

"Accept."

Pierce's face flashed up on the screen and Mallory winced; the Soldier felt her body tense up and she saw him shoot her a semi-reassuring look. It was unexpected and she smiled at him.

"Sir?"

He ignored her, speaking directly to the Soldier. "Is she ready?"

The Soldier looked between Mallory's earnest stare and back to Pierce, nodding once. Pierce grinned and began to speak at a breakneck pace.

"Mallory your free to leave. Be back at the base by eight o'clock. The STRIKE team will run you through the plan and airlift you to the Russian base. Understood?"

"Understood, sir. What about the Soldier?"

Pierce rested his knuckles under his chin and sighed. "Put him back into cyro-sleep. You can wake him up by using the timer function."

"Yes sir. Computer, run protocol three-oh-four and have the automatic timer function to wake him up at... hmm, let's say quarter to eight?"

The computer whirred, clicked and a timer appeared on the screen, counting down till then. "Computer will activate wake up protocol at 7:45."

"Thank you." The glass coffin clicked and the doors swung shut, and the glow enveloped the white capsuled shaped coffin until it was completely consumed. Mallory watched, checking his vitals and making sure he was fully asleep until she left the lab.

"I'm still pissed."

It was sometime later and although the glow of of her orgasm had finished, there was a general feeling of warmth and security as she lay in the arms of Rumlow in her bed in her apartment.

"Don't be pissed." She rocked him slightly with her naked form and grinned up at him infectiously. "Its not too bad as first missions go."

He smiled down at her and dragged his thumb across the bare skin of her back, resting just where her back merged to her breasts and gently rubbing that area.

"I know, I know it's just... there's tons of medically qualified men and women in the department yet he picks you to go on a dangerous mission? It's just annoying you know? I mean you could get seriously injured out there."

Mallory sighed, and ran her hand through his hard chest. "I know but... he trained me pretty well and I've got the Winter Soldier protecting me. I'll be fine."

He'd already known when she went to tell him, and he was very angry about it. As they'd sat on her sofa and watched TV together, discussing the details of the mission as Rumlow threaded his hands through her hair, he'd gone on a tirade about how stupid and lazy Pierce was getting in his missions. Mallory had listened patiently and attempted to placate his fears through a journey from the sofa to the bed. She'd silenced him for a while - if you count groans and shouts of her name as silence – but quickly after he had perked up his rant once more.

"I don't care if he's the Winter Soldier. I'm not there so I don't trust him. I don't trust him anyway even on normal missions, he creeps me the fuck out."

Mallory tensed a little, finding herself uncomfortable. "He's not creepy, Rumlow. He's just... different that's all."

Rumlow openly laughed and regarded her curiously. "Different? You mean a stone cold killer different?"

"That's not very fair. I could say the same thing about you."

"The guys an assassin, Mal. He's a puppet, Pierce winds him up and lets him go."

Mallory reasoned with him and untangled herself from his arms, sitting up to regard him across the bed with her back on the headboard. "Yeah but he signed up for that. And... there is a human in there somewhere. I've seen it."

"You've seen the human in the Winter Soldier?"

"Yeah." She didn't want to speak about if she was honest; those moments were private between them and she'd feel as if she was betraying the Soldier's trust in sharing those moments. But they had lodged into her skull. His admission that he had felt guilty when he'd killed Owen, that he was frightened of that recurring dream, when he'd laughed at her softly. She couldn't deny he was a killer, and a cold blooded one at that but she could recognize that maybe he was a genuinely decent guy doing bad things. It really made her wonder to what he was like before; had he been kind? Decent? A good man? Had he been the type of guy who paid for the first date and refused to let the girl or boy he was with take the other half? Had he always given out his spare change to the homeless on the streets like Mallory did? He was an enigma wrapped in a mystery tied with a codex that was difficult to crack; maybe impossible if it turned out that his memories had been deleted from his mind forever.

"I don't believe you." Rumlow pulled her back to him and Mallory sighed.

"Well don't believe me if you want but I had seen it. If I trust the Soldier to keep me safe, then you should do." She tried to lighten the mood. "If I do die, you can hold me personally responsible and you can have my coffee machine."

Rumlow had taken a shine to Mallory's coffee machine, hailing it to be the best technological advancement in the last few centuries over cellphones and proper fitting underwear or a working toilet. "Seriously?" Her tactic had worked.

"Yes, that's how much I like you."

He kissed her forehead, and Mallory settled in his arms, sighing a little. They remained in their own world for an hour, until Mallory suddenly remember it was almost six and she hadn't even showered. Reluctantly leaving the warm cocoon of the duet and Rumlow's naked form and arms around her, she'd left him laughing as she dashed to the bedroom to wash her hair, shave her body and brush her teeth.

As she blow dried her hair, Rumlow had used her shower. He'd came out when she was in the middle of straightening it, wearing nothing but a towel. He winked at her and Mallory giggled girlishly. She went back to straightening her hair and watched as he quickly dressed. As she was applying the finishing touches to her now smooth and straight hair, he kissed her on the forehead.

"I'll see you at the base, baby."

She smiled as he disappeared out of her door. He had assured her that he'd wanted to stay with her longer, ride the car to the Bunker with her but the STRIKE team was needed earlier. Mallory shook out her hair and quickly called her mom. She smoothly lied that Rumlow had organized a getaway break to New Mexico and she'd be home in a few days.

Her mother was a hopeless romantic, she'd believe anything.

A huge helicopter was on the top of the Bunker. STRIKE team members swarmed like ants, yelling out numbers and commands. Rumlow was at the center, and when he saw Mallory he jogged over.

"You sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out."

Mallory eyed him over this empty statement; of course it was too late. She'd been fraught with nerves ever since he'd left her apartment. Mallory took a leaf out of the Soldier's book and shook her head at him. Rumlow sighed and draped his arm around her shoulders, walking with her to the lift area so they could travel down together.

When they reached Pierce's office, the Soldier was awake and in his frightening battle armour. Mallory's jeans and sweatshirt were taken off her, and replaced with a pair of the same type of army fatigues the STRIKE team wore, a black tank top and a black jacket which was waterproof, windproof and breathable. The shoes she now wore – ballet flats traded for bulky black boots – pinched her toes uncomfortably. The STRIKE team outfitted her with various knives and handguns strapped to her hip, her waist, her feet and arms. When she came out into Pierce's office again, she felt about ten pounds heavier and silly as if she was playing dress up.

They ran through the plan together.

"We're going to airdrop you here-" Rumlow pressed the computer screen and a picture of a forest popped up on screen. It was so ordinary that it could've been anywhere in the world "- and once you land, your GPS will activate on your watches and in your trackers. You'll travel north-" He scrolled as he followed the blue trail which represented their journey. "-until you reach the perimeter. More than likely a guard will you find you, but just in case you'll have to attract their attention. Then you'll be arrested."

"Arrested? I didn't realize imprisonment was part of the plan." Mallory retorted. David approached her with a needle and stabbed it in her arm. Mallory yelped and felt something buzz beneath the skin of her forearm.

"What the-"

David rubbed the small stream of blood and smiled at her. "Tracker. If your watches are taken off you, these will let us know where you are."

Rumlow continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "From then on, you'll have no contact with us until Kohl is dead and you can radio in the air support. Get him killed as soon as possible, we don't care how you do it or how much collateral you take with him. Only request is try not to kill any of the incarcerated STRIKE members. Pierce's orders."

The Soldier nodded tightly, his eyes abuzz with a hard activity like a predator closing in for the prey. Rumlow then turned to Mallory.

"We'll be monitoring your trackers throughout the entire mission – the Soldier has an extra one built into his arm for safe keeping – and once you're out with the rest of inmates a STRIKE team will triangulate your position and we'll come and get you. Any questions?"

Mallory exchanged a glance with the Soldier and he shook his head. Mallory followed suit and Rumlow nodded at her, before crossing the room to take her face in his hands.

"Don't worry. You'll be home in no time."

He kissed her forehead.

They moved. Boarding the huge helicopter, the STRIKE team with Rumlow, the Soldier and Mallory waited as the helicopter thrummed to life and took off from the base. The doors were shut to keep the security of the position of base but Mallory could only see desert and countryside for miles around. The helicopter was comfortable yet Mallory was nervous, her stomach tensing and knotting with terror and excitement. The STRIKE team had done this hundreds of times before and they joked and laughed between them. Only the Soldier, a veteran within his own rights, stayed silent also, seated next to Mallory, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Nervous?" Mallory asked, using conversation as a way to distract herself. The Soldier shook his head. "Do you ever get nervous?"

"No."

Mallory laughed. "I wish I could be like that. God, I'm terrified."

"Don't be. We'll be in and out." He looked at her, his eyes meeting hers. Although they were normally blue and cold, here they reminded her of stone. Willful and hard and unrelenting; a steady place in a sea of uncertainty. She felt better just looking at him; she drew him his strength and told herself to get a grip.

The ride passed easily enough, with Mallory getting more and more nervous as the helicopter lurched and swerved and flew.

Although they were heading to Europe and she presumed it would take a day to fly there, they arrived in mere hours, hovering over the forest like a giant wasp. The doors were opened, exposing a blast of freezing cold air that bit into Mallory's skin. It was lighter now, the grey dawn rising. Bleak the forest looked; nothing but trees stretched for miles on a huge canvas of blanketed snow and black dirt. She noticed a road cutting through the forest at one point but that was it. No rivers, no streams, no landmarks to guide them back their current position. The helicopter chose a landing spot and began to slowly make a descent. The captain instructed them to get ready and Mallory swung her backpack – filled with a medical bag and some other useful items for hiking in the woods – on her back to get ready.

Rumlow found his way to where Mallory stood and kissed her so suddenly her breath was stolen from her. "I'll see you in a couple of days."

He switched his gaze to the Soldier, turning it from a lovestruck puppy-eyed gaze to a full on glare at him. "Keep her safe."

The Soldier glared back and choose not to answer. Mallory kissed him again, savoring the taste of his tongue, the softness of his lips and the scratchiness of his stubble.

"I'll be back soon."

Mallory and the Soldier stood at the door, and as the helicopter thudded to a landing spot, they jumped out.

"Remember, head north till you reach the perimeter!" Rumlow had to shout over the whirring helicopter blades. "And good luck!"

The Soldier grabbed Mallory's backpack to haul her out of the way as the wasp rose and flew off. All the time, she found Rumlow's gaze locked onto hers. She was filled with fear, with excitement, with nerves. As the wasp disappeared out of her line sight – or became too small to see – and the dark forest grew silent again, Mallory turned to the Soldier. She was alone in a dark forest in the middle of Russia with a legendary super assassin.

Wow, Mallory thought, attempting to shed light of the humor on her situation, there's something I'd never thought I'd get to think.

"So?"

He moved in a circle, scanning the horizon for something then pointed in a direction through the trees.

"That way's north. Come on."

A/N: Honestly thank you so much for the kind comments and words. It really does mean a lot and does motivate me. Although it may look like I don't notice, I really do and it's genuinely wonderful to see how many of you have said you've enjoyed the story. I'm always open to constructive criticism so review and tell me what you love and what you hate and what you'd like to see in the future. The plot is NEVER EVER set in stone and I love seeing a fresh perspective on my work.

A positive reaction to an OC is also something I enjoy seeing. I tried to make Mallory as human as possible, with flaws and bad points because I hate it when people create OC's who are flawless. I know there's a lot of original story to shift through before we get to the Cap 2 stuff and I promise it will be coming soon.

Thank you so much, again! You're all awesome