Bethany didn't know how to feel as she sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair, awaiting the results for Fury's emergency surgery. It had been an excruciatingly long night, full of confusion and blood.

Lots and lots of blood.

She had only been revived for a couple of weeks and she was already involved in a conspiracy. Why was her life so difficult?

Natasha and Steve were inside, witnessing the emergency procedure take place. It didn't seem respectable to join them, as she never got to know the man Fury was. From her immediate perspective, he was a complicated man with many secrets. One of the secrets involved a "USB" stick, and an assassin with a metal arm. There were so many questions stirring around her claustrophobic mind, she didn't exactly know what to think.

Suddenly, the operating room door swung open, followed by the appearance of Steve and Natasha, both with solemn expressions attached to their handsome faces. Bethany arose from her seat, slowly realizing the unfortunate results of the operation from their attitudes. A pang of guilt throbbed in her chest, as the two soldiers mourned for the loss of their respected director.

"He was a good man." Bethany acknowledged sincerely, unable to think of anything else to say.

Natasha looked up from the floor with a venomous glare, and stalked away, leaving Bethany completely bewildered by her harsh attitude.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Fury's death seemed to hit her the hardest. Don't take it personally." Steve said, his voice ridden with pity as he stared at Natasha's retreating figure.

Bethany nodded in response, staring at the floor in silent frustration. She understood her attitude, as losing someone you've loved is always hard. But, in a way, it gave her no right to be a burden towards people who cared for your well being...

"From the looks of it, you didn't manage to capture the 'Tinman'?" Bethany mumbled, eager to change the topic.

Steve frowned at her question as they began to walk towards the hospital elevator.

"How did you know he had a metal arm?"

"I saw him, just before he shot Fury. I tried to warn him... but it was too late." she admitted, looking down at the polished marble floor in sudden guilt.

"If I wasn't so oblivious-"

"Don't blame yourself for this, Beth." Steve interrupted, pausing on the spot to grab her swiftly.

He stared into her uncertain eyes with familiar determination, grasping her shoulders in encouragement. She gave a small smile at his sentiment, but the shame of her reckless actions continued to plagued her chest.

"Someone wanted Fury dead. It's our job to find out why..." his voice slowly drifted off as the couple were approached by Agent Brock Rumlow, a S.H.I.E.L.D operative Bethany managed to recognize from training.

"Rogers, Pierce wants to see you." he said firmly, glancing at Bethany with disinterest.

She frowned at his demeanor, comparing his attitude with Natasha's. As soon as he gave the order, he stomped off, causing Bethany to turn to Steve in outrage.

"Am I some kind of walking disease?! And don't you dare fucking say "don't take it personally" because I will lose my shit." she huffed, insulted by the treatment that had ensued.

Steve's distressed expression quickly softened with her irritated outburst, seemingly charmed by her hotheadedness. She glared at him with playful spite, knocking his shoulder with a encouraging tap.

"You go see the big boss. I'll be at home...watching that 'Star Wars' film Sam suggested." she prompted, giving him a warm smile to lighten his spirits further.

"What would I do without you, Summers." he sighed, nodded at her compromise with appreciation, and proceeded to walk the same way Rumlow did.

Bethany watched him leave, silently grinning at his gratitude, and continued on to his apartment.

It was unnervingly quiet in Steve's home, as Bethany anxiously waited for his return from the S.H.I.E.L.D HQ. It had been mere hours since they had parted ways, but this was a new world to her. She hadn't yet grown accustomed to her altered life just yet. She had struggled to make herself a steaming hot coffee when she eventually arrived at the apartment, as the modern machine always confused her with it's unreal technology. After a while of struggling,however, she had finally managed to make herself a somewhat "decent" beveridge, cuddling up on his fancy couch to watch the critically acclaimed "Star Wars" trilogy. As soon as the movie had begun, she was unable to focus, as the bright colors and faces moved too quickly for the human eye.

"I'm a bloody Super Soldier, and I can't even pay attention to the stupid box." she grumbled gloomily, sipping her stale coffee with displeasure.

Maybe if I invited Sam over, he'd be able to explain-

But before she could process the idea, her ears caught the sound of a minuscule shot of a suppressed rife, blaring in the distance. Her reflexes quickly kicked in, sending her flying across the room to avoid the incoming danger. The bullet had unfortunately managed to graze her cheek, as she felt the warm trickle of blood start to drip down her flushed cheek. She breathed heavily with adrenaline, scanning the room in panic.

Who the fuc-

Another bullet shot through the open window on the far side of the room, connecting with her porcelain mug containing the coffee she had slaved to make. Bethany couldn't help but yelp in surprise as the cup exploded from impact, splashing the hot substance in the air. Unable to process what was going on, she quickly dove underneath the windowsill, breathing heavily against the brick wall in horror. She glanced up at the exit, processing the idea to make a run for it.

He'd find me, she thought with dread, shutting her eyes in concentration.

I can't summon a protective barrier. It'd take too long to conjure from the ground. And the very high chance that I could hurt the civilians in the building... she deducted, frowning in impatience.

I gotta get out of here. NOW.

The warning bells were blaring as she impulsively dived for the front door, jumping across the room to avoid another shot from the assassin. Suddenly, she gasped in pain as the bullet split through her right arm, splashing crimson blood violently across the floorboards. Ignoring the throbbing pain spilling from her wounded limb, Bethany plummeted through the closed door with desperation, stumbling down the loft stairs and bursting through the glass doors of the apartment complex. Running as fast as her legs could carry her damaged figure, she quickly brought up the spare phone Steve had lent her for emergencies, containing his number and Sam's. Immediately pressing her quivering hand to call Steve''s number, she was met with infuriating disappointment, as the tone went straight to a lady giving a stupid excuse as to why he couldn't answer the phone. She alternated towards Sam's number, quickly dialing in abrupt panic.

"Hey there Summers, what can I do ya for-"

"I need help." she blurted into the speaker, her ears still ringing from the gunshots.

"Beth? Are you okay? Are you hurt-"

"I need a place to stay. Someone's trying to kill me." she gasped in desperation.

Unable to afford an slow reply, she quickly hung up the phone, diving into an abandoned alleyway for protection She pressed her perspiring back against the cold concrete wall, peering out of her cover to inspect the neighboring roof tops. Slightly content with the results, she turned her needed attention towards her growing wound. Peeling off her leather jacket, she winced in discomfort as she tried to examine her injury with effort. A large hole pierced her bare arm, coated in pulsing blood and irritation. She couldn't help but sigh heavily against the wall, as beads of sweat streamed down her saturated face. The memory of the assassin with the metal arm flashed before her eyelids, causing her to grimace with hatred.

I'm gonna kill that bastard, if it's the last thing I do.