"And the company you keep, Well they plan your Crucifixion as we speak... If you can't decipher just who's on your side, You will not escape the rising of the tide." -The Killers
A short man with a pot belly staggers out of bar into a dark alley way. He holds out his arms, searching for a wall to steady himself on. He stumbles forward, making his way down the alley, failing to notice the three dark figures that have emerged from behind him. In two swift movements the drunken man is knocked out with a choked gasp and a black bag thrown over his face. The three figures begin to drag him away, not making another sound.
When the kidnapped man awakens, he is on his knees, staring up at a person, cloaked in all black. The hooded figure stands at the edge of a canal, staring down at him, though, he cannot see it's eyes.
"Dave Hayden," a woman's serene voice states quietly.
"What do you want from me?" Dave asks.
"We've been watching you for a long time Dave. What are you doing here in Venice? You were once an american farmer. How did you get the money to come and live here?"
He grunts in pain. "Can a man not take a vacation?"
"A five year vacation? Your home was demolished almost a year after you left."
He doesn't answer as he looks up at the mysterious woman.
"Who are you?"
"Dave, do you believe in gods and mythical creatures?"
His breathes hard, his old body shaking violently. "Well there is Thor... and then the aliens that attacked New York. Are you an alien?"
She steps down from the edge so she standing right in front of him. Her hands are clasped behind her back.
"Five years ago, you gave your home to a young girl who sent you here."
"I don't know who you're talking about."
She whips out her hand and tightly grabs his face. "Where is Melanie Walker?"
He gasps for breath as sweat beads on his forehead. "I..I don't know."
She grits her teeth. "I don't like being lied to."
"I swear!" he stutters, desperately, "the last time I heard from her was when she said she was moving and going to demolish the house! She told me nothing!"
She lets go of his face and stands up straighter. "Well, will you send her a message then?"
The woman pulls back her hood to reveal her face. Her face, perfectly white and colored like porcelain, was lined with long jet black hair. Her eyes, blue, and as cold as ice were boring into his skull. She smiles, her teeth straight and white.
"Tell her she's next."
And in a single swift movement, she grabs his head and yanks, ripping it clean off his body.
Melanie awakes with a start. Her body is drenched with sweat and her heart pounds in her chest. It had been the first nightmare she had had in a while. She used to get them all the time, but now they were rare, almost to the point where she couldn't even remember what they felt like.
The alarm next to her bed began to beep. She reaches over and turns it off before getting out of bed to put on a warm robe. The days seemed to blur together. She would go to bed and the next thing she knew, she was waking up again. It was all going to fast. She felt her many years becoming more and more of a burden everyday. She fought to keep her age at bay, but some days, her body would just ache.
She walks down the short hallway and opens the door to her son's room. He was a blessing to her. If he had not been born, she didn't know if she could have stayed sane.
"Jame, wake up buddy," she chimes softly, watching his small body sigh from under the space-designed covers.
He was a beautiful little boy, almost five years old. His hair was pitch black and curly, his eyes a deep brown, and his little face was shaped just like his fathers. This used to make her sad, staring at this child that was almost an exact replica of her former lover. But he was so precious to her, like a gift made just for her. His birth was no accident. The amount of blood loss and transfusions she had when she was attacked, should have killed the unborn child. However, he lived, and was born; prematurely though. His lungs had under developed and there were various other things that were wrong with his breathing. The doctors weren't really sure what was wrong with him, but as he got older, it got better, and now he only relies on an inhaler.
Jame climbs out of bed, his curly hair wild from sleep. He wore simple space ship pajamas -his favorite- and slipped on his tiny space ship slippers. He walks over to her and holds his arms out for her to pick him up.
"How about some breakfast?"
As she was fixing him breakfast he sat quietly at the table, playing with a puzzle. The morning news was showing on the small TV in the corner of the kitchen.
"Mommy?" he called out, putting down his puzzle piece.
"Yes sweetheart?"
"What does... 'locksdown' mean?"
Melanie looks at the words written on the TV screen.
BREAKING NEWS: NYPD LOCKS DOWN TIMES SQUARE
Several images of smoke and fire trucks flash across the television screen. People run away from the tall buildings and lights of downtown New York City. News of bomb threats and threats against the mayor roll across the bottom of the screen.
"Mom?"
She turns quickly to face him with a smile. "It just means the police don't want anybody to go down there so nobody gets hurt."
"Why?"
"Oh I don't know, there could be something broken that needs fixing."
She puts a bowl of cereal in front of him and hands him a spoon.
"I think Uncle Steve is going to pick you up from pre-school today, ok? Mommy has to work a late shift."
He puts a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.
"Maybe you can show him the ship you made out of legos? I'm sure he would like that."
Jame nods and she softly ruffles his hair. Sighing, she walks over to the TV and turns it off. Her coffee mug sits by the sink, cold and untouched.
"Do you have your inhaler?" Melanie asks Jame as they walk hand in hand toward the small school house.
"Yes, mom."
"Good. Make sure not to play too hard, ok?"
He looks up at her, squinting. "It's ok, mom. I prefer the puzzles anyway."
She smiles, squatting so they are eye-level. "I know you do. Have fun. Love you. Remember to look for Uncle Steve."
She kisses him before letting him run into the school house. She watches after him until the door closes.
Work was long and hard. Now that she was manager of the restaurant, she had to work longer hours. She remembered when she had started working here five years ago. The people here were always very nice. They mainly got locals to come, but every so often travelers would stop by on their way to the city. This small town was only an hour or so from New York City, yet nobody ever really noticed it.
Ever since her attack, SHEILD put her into hiding. They sent her here, with a different name, a new home, a new style of clothes, and a makeover. Honestly, she didn't really think she looked any different. She had cut her hair and dyed it darker, though, she really wanted to keep her curls. A SHEILD specialist had come and tweaked some of her features, like her eyebrows and the style of makeup she wore. No longer did she look like Melanie Walker, but perhaps a close cousin or relative.
"Leah, a man at table four 'requests your immediate presence'," a young waitress says to her as she starts collecting the money from the cash register to put away.
"Watch this, will you? I don't want anybody stealing it."
Before she can walk away, the girl grabs her arm. "He's wearing a black suit. I don't know what he wants but he seems like he's from the government or something."
Melanie stares at her, hesitating. She forces a smile. "I'm sure everything's fine. Just don't let anyone come close. Whatever it is, it needs to stay private."
The girl nods and Melanie turns away.
Who could it be?
She rounds the corner and sees Coulson, sitting at the farthest away table, facing her and smiling. She walks calmly over to the table, noticing how they were the only ones in the room. She slides into the bench across from him.
'What are you doing here?" she whispers sharply, "I thought I wasn't supposed to be seen associating with SHEILD?"
He smiles, stirring his drink with a small spoon. "We can sneak a conversation or two every once and while."
She snorts, relaxing into the soft bench. "Well you damn near scared that waitress half to death."
"What'd she think? Mob-boss?"
"Try government agent who has come to tell me I haven't paid my taxes."
"Have you?"
"I don't think that's any of your business."
"Your life is my business."
"True."
"So how've you been?"
She sighs as she takes off her name tag. "I've been."
"And Jame?"
"Getting stronger." She spins the name tag on the table with her finger.
There's a lull in the conversation. Coulson finally speaks up.
"I want you to know that I wasn't upset when I heard the news."
When Melanie had found out she was pregnant, she knew she had to call SHEILD and let them know. Of course Fury was... furious. The idea of a trusted agent sleeping with the enemy and then having his child, wasn't taken too kindly. Natasha was also quite upset. She had been by Melanie's side during the whole birthing process, but after that, she left, and refused to speak with her. It didn't surprise Melanie, but she also understood her anger. She honestly had no idea what anyone else had thought about it. The only two people she had been allowed to stay in contact with were Steve and Tony, and it was only until after the baby was born was she allowed to speak with Tony. He had promised to help her figure out what was wrong with her son since the doctors couldn't. Everybody else just seemed to disappear and never be heard from again. This was what hiding was like. Constantly being alone.
"Thanks. It means a lot," she replied as she rested her head on her hand.
"This visit," he starts slowly, hesitating, "is off-book."
She frowns.
"Fury didn't want to tell you but I thought you should be aware."
She sits up. "Is it about what's happening in New York?"
"No, no," he says quickly, waving his hand. "Those are just some upset street thugs, that's all. The police can handle that one."
"Oh, the news seemed very concerned."
"When is it not?"
A smile hints on her lips then disappears. "So, what is it? What's wrong?"
"We found Dave Hayden's body on a shore near Venice the other day."
"Dave? You mean the one who we sent..." She doesn't finish her sentence.
Coulson nods, his smile fading. He clears his throat. "His body... didn't have a head."
"What?"
"We found the head a few miles South of his body, and carved into the skin on his forehead, was your name."
She doesn't answer him. Her stomach turns with worry and shock.
"Who?"
"We don't know. There was no foreign DNA left on his skin or clothes."
"Why would someone do this?"
He sighs. "I don't know, but we are doing the best to find them and keep you and your son safe."
She nods, clasping her hands tightly together.
"Natasha sends her regards."
"No she doesn't."
He stands up and buttons his jacket.
"She'll get over it."
He begins to walk away but stops and turns to her.
"Oh, and please don't forget to pay your taxes again. It's a hassle for us to deal with."
She smirks, watching him leave the restaurant.
It only takes her about ten minutes to get to her isolated farm house off a random country road. She pulls down the gravel driveway in her big truck and parks next to the small, ancient motorcycle owned by Steve. She knew what people thought, letting her young child ride on a motorcycle, but Steve was the safest person she had ever met. He would never let anything happen Jame.
She gathers herself before walking into the house. She hears the TV from the living room. As she approaches the living room she sees the two, her son and Steve, both sitting cross-legged in front of the screen, watching some kind of cartoon. Jame giggles and Steve smiles. She can't help but watch them in silence. She owed so much to Steve. He seemed to always be there when she needed him. And Jame loved him. It made Melanie almost wish Steve had been the father. Maybe one day he could be, but there was still a part of her heart that was devoted to her past lover.
Steve notices her standing there and looks over at her, smiling. It was a moment of peace for them both. Jame giggling wildly as the cartoon characters ran into things. They stare at each other for a long time before Steve leans over and whispers something into Jame's ear. He pats him on the back and then stands, walking over so he stands directly in front of Melanie.
"How was work... Leah?" he asks, pulling at her name tag.
She smiles, turning to walk him outside.
"Jame showed me his Lego spaceship. Did he have a blueprint for that? Or did he make it all by himself?"
"All by himself," she said proudly.
He puts an arm around her shoulder. "Wow."
"He's a smart kid."
"Very. He's a lot like his father, minus the overpowering urge to enslave mankind," he says lightly, opening the door so they could walk outside.
She doesn't respond. Talking about him used to cause attacks. She would get dizzy, couldn't breathe, but now there was just a minuscule pounding of the heart.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, "too soon?"
She shakes her head. "No, I was just waiting for the hollowness to come again, but it didn't."
"That's a good thing, right?"
"I'm not sure. I hope so."
"Good," he chimes, whipping himself around so he's standing in front of her, both of her hands locked in his, "because I've been wanting to ask you something."
She laughs as he swings their arms back and forth. "Yes, Captain America?"
He scoffs. "I hate that name, you know?"
"I know."
"Will you go on a date with me?"
She raises her eyebrows, a sly smile spread across her lips. "Do you know how old I am?"
He laughs, loudly. "Are you kidding me? I may look young, but I'm like... double your age. I slept for seventy years, remember?"
She giggles. "Fine, you win. What's the occasion?"
"There's this very fancy restaurant in the city. It's at the very top of this new skyscraper. It's supposed to be very posh. Only the wealthiest of New York's citizens can afford to eat there."
She stares at him, raising an eyebrow. "And where in the world did you get the money to do this?"
He sighs. "Melanie, you're ruining it. I just need a yes or no answer."
"After everything that's been going on? Like Times Square? Are you sure this is the best idea?"
"They're just street thugs!"
"I talked with Coulson today. He said that exact same thing."
He freezes. "Wait, you talked to Coulson?"
"He told me about Dave."
Steve lets go of her hands. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
"It's ok," she says quickly, "he told me Fury didn't want me to know."
"Only to protect you."
"Of course."
"You know we would never let anything happen to you. I wouldn't let anything happen to you, or Jame, right?" He looks pleadingly into her eyes.
"Yes, yes I know. If I didn't trust you then why would I let you take him on that piece of shit motorcycle?"
He gasps, throwing a hand across his chest. "How dare you?"
"I'm just saying, I'm not going to a fancy restaurant riding that. Think of my dress... or my hair for that matter."
He huffs, stumped. "Well I guess I could rent a car, but that could be too much of a hassle... then I might be able to take a car from Tony... but I doubt he would let me drive one-"
"We'll take my truck and then get a cab in the city," she interrupts him, crossing her arms across her chest.
"What a great idea!" he cries sarcastically, "I'm so glad you thought of that!"
"My pleasure," she drawls.
He bends down and places a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thank you. I'll be here tomorrow at seven o'clock sharp, deal?"
She smiles warmly. "Deal."
He climbs onto his motorcycle and drives away with a loud rumble. Melanie watches him until she can see his tail lights no longer. As she walks inside she fails to notice a dark figure standing by the large oak.
He had been watching their whole conversation.