MARCH 6TH, 2014
WASHINGTON D.C.
The safehouse was empty when she arrived.
She knew she should be relieved, but all she felt was on edge as she stepped into the yellow house, a matching style to the rest of the homes on the block. It felt like a showroom, untouched and unlived in as she stepped across the threshold, inputting her agent ID code to shut off the alarm and turn the safety protocols on.
The term safehouse made her snort when she first heard of it. Nothing was safe, not anymore. Since SHIELD fell and HYDRA with it, everything had been made public. Their hiding places, their codenames, everything. Including her own history. Her hands clenched themselves into a fist before flexing back out at her side. She wanted to blame Nat for revealing it all, for putting her and everyone she loved in danger, but she couldn't. Because the pragmatist in her knew it was the only way.
She froze as she caught sight of a small yellow sticky note taped to the island in the kitchen, a familiar loopy scrawl staring up at her.
With Fossil.
Safe for Now.
Take care, Ace
-Nat.
Laura immediately committed the words to memory and crumbled the note up, tossing it into the small fire she'd started in the fireplace a little while ago. It didn't make sense to turn all the lights on when it was nearly midnight—she knew enough about suburban living to know it would immediately arouse suspicion from her neighbors—so she simply sparked a fire and let herself sit by it until she fell asleep.
Not that she would. Her sleep was erratic at best and downright unstable at worst. Some nights she barely even got an hour, let alone the full eight. It was a new predicament, coming from the last few weeks of being on the run from HYDRA agents and people who wanted her dead. She was not a fan of it.
Laura began to pick through her possessions, meager things she'd stuffed into a bag before running. She'd managed to grab the important things, a new phone and number, her laptop, a few changes of clothes and a picture from home. Her lips perked up into a smile as she stared at the bit of film stuffed into a frame she made in third grade, painted a bright green with dozens of flower stickers and glitter glue trails decorating the sides. In it was a photo from her high school graduation party, her parents on either side of her as they cut into her cake.
Her dad was hugging her tightly, and she could still feel the way his hand dug into her Boston College sweatshirt while her mom perfectly cut the chocolate cake so everyone had a piece. All three of them were smiling while her brother took the picture, a moody sixteen year old whose only desire was to be anywhere but there that night. It was the last time they were all together, the last time her parents were on speaking terms, anyway.
She sighed and placed the frame on the coffee table behind her. She wasn't setting up house here. It was simply a few days for her to lay low and get back on her feet before heading towards the next destination on her list. She pulled a map from her bag. The other important thing she grabbed before leaving.
Laura blew out a sigh, scanning the piece of parchment with a keen eye. Thanks to the file Natasha had given her, she at least knew one place she could go, but the question was how to get there without raising any alarm bells?
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she snapped to attention.
Someone was here.
Slowly, Laura grabbed her gun and slid it under the waistband of her jeans. There was no banging down the door or yelling, so she had to assume it wasn't a member of the U.S government come to hunt her down. That left only SHIELD or HYDRA, and she didn't like her odds either way. Inhaling sharply, she pressed herself to the floor and slid under the couch, the space under the seat just barely enough for her to fit in. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths and hold them in as she waited for the person to make themselves known.
It didn't take long.
A pair of black thick soled boots entered her vision and she held her breath, waiting for them to pass. She knew they wouldn't.
She could hear the intruder's breathing, the slow creak of the floorboards as they took another step. The man's shadow stretched across the floor, or at least she assumed it was a man based on how large the shadow was, the flames from the fire the only light illuminating the safehouse.
Which, as of her current situation, was no longer safe.
Her hand reached for the gun in her waistband and she methodically switched the silencer on. The boots stopped and turned toward her. The shadow of the couch disappeared and her breath caught in her throat.
The Winter Soldier was staring down at her.
The gun fired.
His metal arm ripped it from her hand and crushed it, denting the chamber of bullets inside. She swept her leg out and his reflexes kicked in, bouncing up as quickly as she'd taken him off his feet. It gave her enough time to spin to her feet, dodging his punches while hitting back with a few of her own. She grasped his metal arm, and launched a kick to his stomach.
He stumbled but came back just as quickly, grabbing her leg as she launched another kick and throwing her across the kitchen island.
Pain shot through her side as she crashed to the wooden floors, taking a few utensils and a glass vase with her. The Soldier was over her in minutes and she tossed glass from the floor into his face, causing him to shield his eyes in a moment of self-preservation.
Strange, she thought. He never cared for his well-being before.
Laura scrambled up and grabbed a kitchen knife, using the momentary distraction as a way to gain the upper hand, slamming her foot into his gut and arcing the knife down directly over his head.
The Soldier grasped the hilt moments before the blade sliced right between his eyes and his eyes met hers, both the same color of blue.
"I'm not here to kill you." He muttered. It was the first time she'd ever heard him speak, and she was surprised at how soft his voice sounded. The adrenaline pumping through her veins refused to give up any ground, however.
She pushed further against his iron grip, the blade of the kitchen knife hovering dangerously close to the Soldier's skin, "Is that what you told Solomon before you put a bullet through his skull?" Laura's stomach clenched at the memory of the man's brain matter splattered across her uniform.
The Soldier grimaced, "I was following orders."
Laura's laugh was mirthless, short and cold as the words left his mouth. "Men like you always are."
He snarled and pulled her grip apart, twisting her wrist until she dropped the knife. Pain split across her chest as he kicked her further away, grabbing the kitchen knife she'd dropped to use against her.
She ducked out of the way of the blade and used her hand to slide across the island, hurling one of the lamps directly at his face. The Soldier used his arm to block the blow, anger alight in his eyes as he stumbled against the kitchen cupboards.
The movement gave her enough time to reach in her bag and grab her spare firearm.
Laura cocked it and fired a round directly into the Soldier's shoulder.
He groaned and collapsed against the island, knife clattering to the ground.
"That was a warning shot," She said, mouth tight as she loaded another bullet into the chamber. Laura set another round into his leg. "So was that one." The click of the gun hung in the air, "Now you're gonna tell me who wants me dead or this next one won't be."
The blue of his eyes cut through his shaggy dark locks as he stared up at her. She wasn't dumb enough to think he was weighing his options, she knew he could cut her down in seconds. Yet, he hadn't and she wanted to know why.
"No one sent me," He groaned, falling to the floor as he grasped the island for support, "I went looking for you after D.C."
"Why?"
His heavy breathing seemed to be the only sound between them. "The man on the bridge, you worked with him."
Laura blinked. Whatever answer she'd been expecting, that was not it.
She barely knew Steve. They went on a few missions together, but he was closer to Natasha by virtue of both of them being Avengers.
She tightened her grip on the gun, "So?"
His hand reached into the backpack slung around his shoulders and she tensed, finger hovering over the trigger as he pulled out a photograph and slid it over to her.
A picture from Roger's personal file stared up at her. It was one of the only ones leftover from the 40s, before the Commandos were ambushed in the Alps. She gulped as a lively James Barnes smiled up at her next to an equally happy Steve Rogers.
"I need your help," The Soldier continued, his voice that same surprising tenor that barely reached above a whisper. Laura's gaze flickered from the photo to the man kneeling before her.
"Why me?" She asked, her finger never leaving the trigger.
"You were Pierce's next target," He admitted, pulling himself to his feet, "He said you knew too much. About HYDRA, about Steve…about me."
She bristled as she realized he was telling the truth.
The last few months before HYDRA's takeover involved several missions to Bucharest and Eastern Europe, searching for valuable data relating to the Winter Soldier and his potential disappearance. Of course, at that time, she hadn't realized he'd been operating in D.C. the entire time.
Unlike Solomon, Laura had immersed herself in reconnaissance and information, learning all she could about the evolution of HYDRA in the 40s and the U.S. government's attempt to stop its rise back home.
Clearly, they were unsuccessful.
"I knew the woman you're looking for," His words gave her pause and she lowered the barrel to the ground, but her hands remained on it, "I can help you find her, but I need you to help me back." The curtain of dark hair obscured the determined look wrought onto his face, "Please."
His voice cracked and Laura's resolve weakened.
But she needed assurance.
"And if you try to kill me?" The words came out in perfect russian, seemingly unlocking something behind his eyes.
They stared blankly at her own as he closed the distance between them, the two shots barely stopping him in his tracks. Laura gulped, suddenly realizing that he'd been holding back. He grabbed the gun and angled it directly between his eyes.
"Then I suppose you better pull the trigger first." His Russian sent a shiver down her spine and she ripped her hands free of his grip.
"Don't worry," She replied in English, angling the gun down, "I will."
A moment passed and she dropped the fire arm to her side.
The Soldier stretched his arm back.
It seemed they held some kind of truce.
For now.
