#it became a rape the moment she slipped that torture ring on him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zemossunshine · 2 years ago

Text

Sunshine Chapter 44

Pairings: Zemo x You Bucky x You

Summary: Falling in love with a villain. This will start sweet and then go very dark.

Tags: Explicit. Mature. Not for minors. Dark. Angst. Knife play. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Self Harm . Vomiting. Nightmares. Sleepwalking. Torture. Smut. Broken Bones. Blood. Injury. Violence. Rough Sex. Rape. Kidnapping. Spanking. Unhealthy Relationships. Mental Health Issues. Anal Sex. Orgasm Delay. Fear. Blow Jobs. Sexual Violence. Suicide Attempt. Reference To Domestic Violence. Sleepwalking. Memory Loss. Gen Violence. Threats. Manipulation. Manipulative Relationship. Murder. Death. Loss Of Parents. Implied Alcohol Abuse. Threats Of Rape. Non Consensual Drug Use. Emotional Manipulation. Gaslighting.

I’ve got my heart set on anywhere but here. I’m staring down myself, counting up the years. Time to make one last appeal for the life I lead. I think I’m moving but I go nowhere, I’ve become what I can’t be. Stop and stare, you start to wonder why you’re here not there. And you’d give anything to get what's fair, but fair isn’t what you really need. Lyrics owned by One Republic.

–

You felt as if you were being pulled up and away, dragged unwillingly. Your head swam as you reluctantly opened your eyes. Seeing a figure obscured by the blaring sun behind them, lungs being ripped open as the dust was ripped out of you in a red haze. Pushing weakly against the figure to stop the torment, only to feel them trembling, sobbing at the discovery of you.

Maria.

She really was your guardian angel, mistaking the ring behind her for the sun, when in fact it was the moon, shining behind her, a fitting halo. The light in the darkness. Before you could speak, form a coherent thought, the ground beneath you started to shudder and shift around you. You couldn’t get your bearings yet your limbs moved, feet planted on Victor which was so disrespectful, you wanted to reach down to him, but your body wouldn’t allow it, craning your head, it snapped back, looking up towards the sky. The only thought in your mind was the overwhelming urge to climb. To get out. Pushing Maria as the rubble churned, swirled around and rose up. Pulling yourself and Maria up and over the edge, you saw Wanda speaking to a member of the Dora Milaje.

“You can’t sense any life at all?”

“No.” Wanda answered easily, looking right at you. Another overwhelming command came over you, to keep moving, the force was so strong you immediately felt sick. Your legs started to move, but your eyes wouldn’t leave Wanda, she had warped reality so the warrior in front of her couldn’t see what was right in front of her.

“The shield?”

Wanda shook her head, moving her hand to itch her nose, sending the shield that was in her hand flying into the rubble, you watched in awe as it slipped under. Maria faltered next to you. Mechanically almost robotically you both stumbled towards the quin jet, you couldn’t say who was holding the other up. Both collapsing out of sheer exhaustion the moment the destination was reached. Maria’s hands were covered in cuts, bruises, from where she had dug you out, using your arms you attempted to drag yourself towards the front, to find something to clean her wounds. Maria’s breathing became erratic, choking on her own tears, hands failing to grab onto something to ground herself. You tried to speak, truly you did, but your voice couldn't be found, was it that you didn’t have the words to calm her? That you just didn’t have the strength? Wanda swept onto the jet, closing the door shut. Maria’s frantic eyes matched how disorientated you both felt, you took Wanda’s hand and pushed it onto Maria’s head. That only seemed to spur Maria’s panic on and it wasn’t helped by Wanda’s hesitation. Wanting to scream at them both Maria flopped into your arms, bandages floated through the air, wrapping themselves around Maria’s hands. Scarlet eyes met your blackened ones as the jet rose into the sky above everything else.

–

Even you had to admit you were surprised to not wake up in a white room with harsh fluorescent lighting. No consequences for your actions. Were you being forgiven? If you were anyone else you knew it would be a different story. That shock only lasted a moment as your hand instinctively ripped out the needle jabbed into the crook of your elbow. Jerking up you found yourself in a bed. A bed. The softness underneath you felt foreign, hell, laying down to sleep felt wrong. Looking up at the fluids that were being pumped into you, both bags scrawled with Maria’s handwriting. Saline and antibiotics. Flopping back into the bed, recognising the outlay of this particular room you turned expecting to see the collage of photographs adorning her walls. It was blank, empty, because that wasn’t the life you lived, that was another universe, far away. Victor. Your heart lurched, opening your eyes usually meant you were greeted with Victor’s, but he wasn’t here. He wouldn’t be ever again. You had done something awful, unforgivable, irredeemable. You left him behind, although you suspected you didn’t have much choice at the time, those overwhelming urges. Wanda, she forced both you and Maria to power through, when you could both barely function. Heaving yourself to your feet, you were relieved to find yourself in your clothes, caked in mud. Your cloak, sprinkled with dust. Maria left you exactly as you were. You were greeted with a bottle of water and burner phone, again clearly marked and a note telling you to stay in bed.

You were alone, no doombots zooming through the air, no D. The last time you were alone was your wedding night, the nights on the Raft, although you suspected you weren’t ever alone, that anyone was able to just walk into your room. You shrugged off the cloak, but you would never be free of Victor. He opened your eyes and mind to the reality of the world you ignored for so long. You didn't want to be free of him either. Here you were, alive and alone, anyone would expect you to feel something akin to freedom, grateful. You didn’t exactly feel either of those things.

Moving to the ensuite, just to wash the dried dirt from your face, you came across a contact lens case, another note asking you to try them. Maria knew you wouldn’t stay in bed. Quickly deciding on a shower first, you went to pull your t-shirt over your head, something stopped you, something was wrong. Holding your breath you waited for the tell tale signs of movement, for a sound, any sound. Nothing came, because the unease in your body was due to the light, having cleaned yourself for years in the dark, it took a while to realise what had got your back up. Collecting your cloak from the floor after you had removed the worst of the dirt, you wrapped it around your form. Yes it was filthy, but you didn’t exactly have many options, at least that’s what you told yourself, not that it gave you a small sense of comfort. Wiping the condensation from the mirror you flicked the light back on, you looked at your reflection, you wondered if anyone had ever looked as hollow as you did, as if there were nothing inside, a void, a black hole, just like your eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, staring at the black abyss you had to agree, festering away, swallowing all of the light. Slipping the lenses into your eyes, you took a quick glance at the mirror. You wished an emotion would stir within you. Oddly you didn’t feel as broken as you knew you should be, was this indifference? Apathy?

Leaving your temporary bedroom, paranoid you checked the locks on the door, though you could see that the security here was slightly more high tech that your average place. You wandered the empty apartment, wondering where Maria was, she didn’t leave a note detailing that. You stumbled into her ensuite looking for clues, coming across a small bathtub, you turned on the tap. You breathed in and out slowly as steam filled the air, adding in some bath salts that promised to aid aching muscles, you managed to smile at that, as if you could feel such a thing. You poured in a healthy amount of lavender bubble bath, which claimed to be calming. You almost laughed at that one.

After shutting off the light again, you slowly sunk your decrepit body into the water. Your body damaged beyond repair, the body that was never truly your own. You briefly wondered if this was how Bucky felt once he knew he was free, that his body and mind were his own again, if only you felt that. You recalled how happy you were when you took his pain. Was it this temporary for him? Did he regret it all as much? Of allowing everything to happen? Was the humiliation the same? Of everything that was done to him. The shame. The same shame that haunted Bucky, but no-one could take it away, not this time. You thought of the thousands of black widows walking around, all of the women who endured the red room, tortured, controlled. Nebula, Gamora, tormented by their own father, torn apart, they all survived longer than you. Three birthdays. Just three measly days.

You should feel happy, maybe you really did need the shots of endorphins. Victor made sure you were happiest when you used your powers. The pleasure, the glow, to try and make you as happy as he was with power coursing through him. You never quite reached his euphoria. There are so many words to describe your situation, yet you couldn’t find them. Was Victor's lesson that you belonged in a prison? Destined to be controlled in some way? Nothing more than a commodity to be passed around. Always wanted by others, not for who you were but what you could do, for your power, to never live on your own terms, or by your own rules. What was the most important lesson you should have taken from him? You couldn't ask. There was much to unpack, somehow you knew it would be short lived. Mainly because Maria loudly announced she was back before you heard the front door unlock. You weren’t hard to find, there were so many scents filling the air anyone else would have a headache. Ensuring the bubbles covered your form, you squinted against the light Maria turned back on.

“Where is Rebecca?” You asked softly, even though you both knew it was nothing short of a demand.

“Putnam-” Maria answered, there was no awe for your survival this time, just the underlying tone of caution. “About an hour away, if every other car disappeared." Maria huffed out something that was meant to be laughter, her attempt at a joke. You waited years for that location, and it was so easy, so simple to get it, now Victor wasn’t at your side. Prime real estate even you had to admit, the one place on earth Victor couldn’t find. New York. Coincidently close to many other enhanced individuals, Dr Strange, Spiderman and Bucky all close enough to subdue you, although you imagine Zemo would have used the word protection. Then Bucky moved in with Sarah and you were shipped to Louisiana.

“Must feel good to get that off.” Maria jerked her head down to your cloak. It didn’t you felt lost without it. When she moved to touch it, you flinched and she baulked.

“Sorry.” You said without heart, you could understand her being on edge, but the cloak was the only thing that was your’s, you didn’t want anyone to mess with it. At least you knew why you cared so little about your possessions, because you didn’t ever really have any, you knew not to get attached. Your parents hardly provided you with anything, leaving you alone, for days, sometimes weeks on end. You supposed you were meant to be their ticket to climbing the ranks of Hydra, but you didn’t bear the fruit they wanted, you failed them. Not that they liked you much before they abandoned you, a prerequisite of Hydra.

“You didn't try the contacts?” Maria asked, you unceremoniously slid them both out, dropping them into that water. No more hiding, a glaring visual of what remained, the one scar that could be seen by all, a reminder of the monster they created. And as much as you tried to believe that they all turned you into whatever it was you were now, you knew that wasn’t true. You knew in your heart, you formed the monstrosity that you had become.

“Did you find my brother?” You all but whispered. You assumed he must have had the same potential as you, given to Hydra before you were born, he didn’t make it. Your parents in their infinite wisdom decided to prepare you for what was to come. Hydra held off so you would survive. Maria’s horror hadn’t quite shifted from her face, by asking that one question you confirmed, that you remembered. You remembered it all. He was more than likely dumped in an unmarked grave, discarded. At the very least you could say this all ended with you. Rebecca wasn’t enhanced. Maria didn't seem to want to answer, which meant that no, he hadn’t been found, but then who had the time to scour earth for a body only you cared about.

“Do you have any bigger towels?” You asked, changing the subject, your fingers had pruned some time ago and as much as you wanted to put the cloak back on, you had to learn to live without it. That and you were clean, well as clean as you could ever feel. Maria shuffled back in with a few towels. Turning herself away from you, you waited to check she wasn’t going to turn around, closing your eyes wrapping the first towel around your shoulders, a second one around your waist, in an attempt to hide the gruesome sight underneath, Maria had placed some fresh clothing under a third towel. Maria turned back with her face as pale as a ghost, she saw something, reaching out to your leg, your hand flung out to stop her, gripping her wrist far too harshly, opening your hand just a moment later hearing her gasp. You didn’t know if you had developed an aversion to touch or if you longed for something kind, for something without an agenda. For someone to like you, not for your power, but for just who you are, or were. Her movement at least aided you in understanding what she got a glimpse of, not the metal fused into your skin, no, your other leg. A wall of honour, etched with the names of the men that laid their claim on you. Evidence of their crimes. Not that you needed the physical scars, the unseen ones ran deeper. You wouldn’t talk about it, you weren't sure any words would leave your mouth if you tried. You wouldn’t even allow yourself to think about it. It would take a lifetime to forget and then some.

“I’ll get the regeneration machine.” Maria nodded profusely and it was a sweet sentiment, if you didn’t loathe that machine, to you it was just another way to conceal reality. It came with its own limitations just like you, it only healed fresh wounds.

“You want to flay my skin?” You said dead pan. “All of it?” You dug a bit deeper. Maria pushed her lips together in an attempt to stifle whatever sound was going to come out. “Where have you been all day?” You raised the pitch of your voice attempting to distract her, you couldn’t deal with any upset, you didn't want to self flagellate, and this was dangerously toeing the line.

“Someone has to dig for your body.” Maria half laughed. She was making a show of still looking for you, so no one else would, they would come up empty handed and you assumed to stop Zemo specifically looking. You smiled gratefully at her and excused yourself to get dressed. You moved slowly across the room to peer down out of the window. Something as simple as a window, you could look out and see life. Know exactly where you were. Maria announced she was going to bed as she was exhausted, you lied and said you would after you changed the sheets and finished the fluids she insisted on, assuring her that you were just fine. The thought of sleep made you uneasy, your sleep had been chemically or magically induced and you slept upright. It was something you needed to work out, there was so much you needed to work out.

–

Leaning against the window frame you watched the city that doesn’t sleep, much like yourself. The beeping of horns, the police sirens, the laughter. Watching what you supposedly saved. There had been so many attacks on this city and yet its residents just didn’t seem to care. The sun flooded the streets below as people stumbled home, another new day and nothing felt different. When Maria woke you told her you did get a few hours rest in, despite there not being a single crease in your clothing which she would notice, to appease her you fumbled hooking yourself back up to the antibiotics, you used to have a personal assistant, that did these things for you. D wasn’t coming back either.

“Can we talk when I get back?” Maria asked hesitantly as she packed a bag, you nodded, knowing it wasn’t a conversation either of you were going to enjoy. Maria dawdled around, no doubt to see the dirty bed sheets, confirmation you hadn’t slept. You waved her goodbye but she still waited for you to finish the bottle of water before she left. After the antibiotics finished, you pulled the needle from your arm, sighing at yet another round of chemicals forced into you. Searching around you came across what you needed quickly. A hidden drawer with wads of cash. Taking a few bills without hesitation, something you would have never done before, you moved to Maria’s very modest closet, throwing on the first jacket you could find along with a hat. You grabbed the burner phone and stood at her front door. Stopping to consider if the door would even open for you. You would fully understand if it didn’t, but then knowing you couldn’t, would bring up all kinds of feelings you couldn’t face yet. Pulling the cap lower you pressed your hand to the panel and heard a click. You sucked in a breath and headed out of the door.

Not the wisest choice you ever had, but then what was? No choice you ever made led to anything remotely good. But you had to know, you had to be sure. You had been secluded for such a long time, you needed to know if you could be amongst people. Rush hour had passed, so it wasn’t as busy as it could be. Walking with your head down through the lobby, you expected Victor to be next to you, or to hear the metal of his armour clinking away, only to hear your own scurried foot steps. Stepping into the street only to have someone immediately brush your shoulder as they hurried past. Your body stiffened involuntarily. Victor would have their head, in fact if Victor were here, a path would be cleared for you. But these people had no idea what was walking amongst them, Victor made you feel invincible, but to the residents of New York you were nothing more than an obstacle. You weren’t spared a glance, let alone a second look, they had no interest in you whatsoever. Everyone had their own goal, coffee, work, fifth avenue, broadway.

You almost wanted someone to recognise you, just to see what would happen. Would they even know? Would they scream? Very few people had seen your face, that you knew of anyway. The sunglasses made everything dull, so the world wasn’t as bright as it could be. The coffee shop you and Maria lied about craving, shut down. The world had changed, everything had changed. It wasn’t long until you came across a small cafe. Ordering the coffee Hydra introduced you to, you took a seat outside.

You sat and watched for hours, the hope, the despair of people just living their lives. People rushing to work, picking up dry cleaning. Couples laughing, arguing, friends catching up, what looked like a first date. Children being asked to wait just one minute, dismissed, just as you had always been. The stress, the tiredness, sorrow in people's eyes. Everything you were once so blind to. You listened to the simplicity of people changing direction, ordering their own beverages, all these little actions, that the world was free to do. You traded Victor's life for a free world. It was a choice you would make a thousand times over, and you couldn't say with any certainty you would have the strength do it again, no one knew, no one cared, they didn't know what you gave up, how it felt to kill the man who saved your daughter, how it felt to be amongst people so fucking ungrateful. How it would haunt you forever and it was still what you wanted. Free will, freedom, something you weren't sure you ever had. The burner phone in your pocket vibrated and honestly you were surprised it took this long. You half expected Maria to show up here, with a full convey and an army of agents.

“Wher-”

You cut her off, giving her your exact location. After a wicked thought of telling her you ran off crossed your mind. You got up to order two coffees, resumed your position only to see Maria running towards the cafe as you were at the counter you pointed at the table. Maria’s eyes nearly fell out of her head at your actions, you carried the cups out and sat in the same chair, ignoring Maria who was still on her feet, obviously struggling with the fact you were out in public.

“Freedom.” You said bluntly referring to the scene around you and it did make Maria deflate slightly.

“You’re free now.”

You wanted to react to that, really you did. Instead you shot to your feet, and narrowed your eyes as Maria’s hand flew out to grab you, you gave her a withering glare. She made a point of looking at the innocent civilians around you both, not that she needed to, you had no intentions of running, or using your powers. As you sat back down you spoke under your breath. “Do not lie to me.” Maria wrung her hands and worriedly looked around. Rolling your shoulders you gestured to the chair, finally turning away from her as she relented and sat down. You wondered if you should tell Maria about the world where you both did everything together when two friends sat at the table behind you clearly in the middle of a shopping spree.

“Did you hear Dr Doom got killed in Wakanda?” One of the women exclaimed. Maria removed her own sunglasses and angled her body to face you.

“Aren’t you glad that sadistic bitch is gone too!”

You inclined your head with a smirk on your face, Maria looked poised to either drag you away or defend your honour, you gave her a very quiet no. Sadistic? You couldn't deny it, even the action alone, clutching your fingers inwards, drawing the pain inwards, wanting to take it on as your own. Perhaps you even needed pain to survive, it certainly seemed that way. The black that rested inside, and rest it would forever. Observing life, your years with Victor made you see that not everything is so black and white. You were supposed to be the light and your powers were the darkness. You wondered if you had been cursed, you were happy to remain cursed, as long as Rebecca never had to be.

You wondered if there were as many people here as with the Trevi foundation. If you could quiet your mind and concentrate as Victor taught you, to see the pain within. Your eyes fell to Maria, you didn’t want to see hers, to see what you had caused. That and you were sure Maria would run in terror if she thought for one moment, you were using your powers in any capacity, the nervous energy poured off her. Oh and the small fact that you doubted your mind would ever be quiet again, the questions you should have asked swirled inside, the lies you covered up, it was all so stupid, so naive. You didn't know your own mind anyway, didn't trust it, it lied to you. It made you susceptible, made you easier to manipulate, it was a mess, more broken than your body. You settled in your chair as the two women’s conversation moved onto some new TV series that they were both overjoyed with.

The air got cooler as the sun began to fade, Maria kept your coffee topped up, you thanked her each time, the only words spoken between you. You didn't know if you were avoiding the conversation she wanted to have. If you were slightly overjoyed that being outside wasn’t as hard as you thought it might be. If you knew that the moment you entered her apartment, the reality of your situation would set in. The coffee place showed no chance of closing, you had seen several staff handovers, the lunch rush, the after work rush and apparently the hordes of people just starting their day after that. Your entire body froze when a man ran past you, the running didn’t phase you no. The fact that he had a very distinct and very visual black aura did. You jumped up, chasing him, as he ran into oncoming traffic, dodging yellow taxis that screamed at you louder than Maria as you sprinted after him. Was it possible this man was like you? Seeing him in your sights you didn’t hesitate to tackle him to the ground. Scraping your knees and hands against the gravel, as he blubbered, unable to form anything close to a word he reached behind you, tipping your cap off your head. What was he trying to reach? Turning, seeing nothing of any consequence, no person coming towards him, no threat, no friends, no nothing. Brooklyn bridge.This man was in pain, unimaginable pain that he saw only one way out.

Maria reached you, holstering her gun at rapid speed, as you probably just gave her the fright of her life, you instructed her to call someone, anyone. Gripping onto him as tight as you could, thankfully allowed you to push the sunglasses back up your nose. Your heart thumped in your ears. Shushing him as he sobbed. You remained on the floor with him, holding on, as people complained around you. To think there was a point where you liked everyone and they couldn't be considerate for a minute? After a few hours of Maria getting him with the right people, she left her contact info for the man and you headed back.

–

You sat at the breakfast bar with the silence hanging between you. You tried to mask that, by setting out the containers of Chinese food Maria had picked up on the way back. Maria seemed restless, despite the fact you knew she was exhausted, she spent another day digging for your corpse and in just a few short hours, she would be back doing the same.

“What’s the plan here?” Maria asked casually, but her tone was full of accusation, she had a very trying day, but she was ready to have this out. A ridiculous question and a rhetorical one, just by her body language, you knew that she was fully aware of that. “That house is a prison. Zemo-”

You repressed the urge to roll your eyes, taking another fork full of noodles into your mouth. You let Maria ramble and rant about Zemo, as if this was all new information to you, so far all she mentioned was the barrage of threats, not exactly a solid crime. Chewing slowly, there was no rush, you let the fork rest on the side of your carton. You didn’t want to scare Maria, truly you didn’t, you were even used to your arguments with her, rising to the challenge over and over. You knew why Rebecca was there, because she was your daughter, the reason she lived a trapped existence, she could have a perfect life, if everyone didn't have to treat her like a ticking time bomb. Smirking at the thought of Maria’s feeble attempt at even trying to stop you, wiping your mouth with your sleeve you let your eyes rest on her unrepenting and soon after her speech started to slow, her hands stopped waving around, you were sure she even gulped.

“You’re keeping my daughter in a prison?” Watching Maria’s finger twitch, no doubt seeking out her weapon, your smile widened, unable to resist the opportunity to be passive aggressive you continued. “Why? Did she do something? Or is it what she might do? Or do you tell yourself it’s for her safety so you can sleep peacefully at night? ”

“Zemo- ”

“If he is as bad as you say he is, then why isn’t he at the Raft?” You deflected, knowing full well he would find a way out, with or without you. Maria listed many things off in her tirade, not everything though.

“He is an asset.” Maria mumbled meekly and you laughed, you had a inkling that is what you were supposed to be, They wanted your power just like Hydra, well everyone could go and fuck themselves. “I’ll get Rebecca,” Maria rushed out which only made you laugh harder, you pointed your fork to the door, telling her to go right ahead. You had seen Zemo’s reaction to losing both you and Rebecca.

“You expect me to go on the run, with a child who has never met me as we try to outrun Hydra and Zemo? In a world where I can’t show my face?” You scoffed.

“Fury, there’s a space station-”

Your eyes flicked back up to her and she flinched. “You want to exile me from the planet I just saved?” You couldn’t hide the contempt in your voice. Maria had no idea how many times you looked down on earth from the stars wishing you knew where Rebecca was. She could send you away, it wouldn’t take you long to escape and get back to earth.

“You can’t go back.” Maria tried again.

You sighed. If you were in Maria’s position you would say the same. “If I stayed there, Victor would never have found me, or Hydra. None of it would have happened if I just listened to-” You couldn’t say it. “Not even Victor found that house, it’s the safest place on earth.” Despite its owner. Hydra must believe you were dead like the rest of the world, but on the off chance you couldn’t go back to them either. Sooner or later Zemo was going to work out you weren't dead and he would come looking, wherever you were imprisoned, he would breach the walls to get to you. Bucky once told you that it wasn’t fair that you had to live this way, but you had to. Swallowing your pride and repeating the same phrase you had heard over and over. “That house, it’s where I belong.”

“Then you need training, real training, teach you to fight, defend yourself, to fly and Russian, we are all learning Russian.”

<”Victor already did that.”> You replied in Russian with raised eyebrows.

Maria recovered from that quickly. “Then fight with us? We can tell everyone what happened, we-”

“And put a target on Rebecca's back?” You said bluntly. My powers cannot be used for good. I was so close. You admitted to yourself. How you were on the precipice, balancing on a sword edge that could have gone either way. Not only did you sympathise with villains, you understood them, believed in their causes and could see their point of view. Now you knew that no, not everything should be forgiven and not everyone deserved a second chance. You certainly didn’t. As much as you wanted to blame everyone else solely for what happened, you couldn’t. Not wholly. It was everyone's fault and it wasn't anyone's fault. Everyone was culpable. Victor just took advantage of a volatile situation. You had been complicit in everything because you depended on someone else to live your life. You couldn't blame Hydra for what you became. That is what hurt the most. That if you looked back all of this it was your doing. Was it your sympathy for villains that made it so easy for Victor? You were complacent in it all, all of it and you were walking away free. You didn't deserve it. Is this what Bucky felt? At least he could say he was brainwashed. You weren't. It was you. It was all you. Sure you could argue, there was some level of coercion going on. At the very least Victor didn’t lie to you, fuck he didn’t need to, everyone else had done his job for him. Victor never hid anything, never lied, never manipulated, he even told you his plans for you. The man who never hurt you, who was never wrong and you killed him anyway. The man who protected you, just as everyone else had, they just did it wrong. Victor didn't forcibly take your powers, he wanted you to succumb to him, to surrender willingly, to have that choice. He even wanted your freedom, at least from Hydra, teaching you to fight multiple enemies at once, how to get out of being restrained, so you could confront them yourself. Victor didn't change your world view, he just helped you see how flawed your ideals were. Your infantile perspective of the world. You still wanted the world to be a better place but there was too much greed, too much poison, too much thirst for power. The picture perfect world could never be a reality, well not now Victor was gone. Victor had the same values as you, he just had a more permanent solution, so did you, in the end.

“I won’t hurt anyone.” You promised her. I’m just not going to help either. You couldn’t be part of that world anymore. To help the heroes meant you had to cause pain, for you it went hand in hand.

“What about Hydra?”

That was a fair question and yet you shook your head. As far as you were concerned you died and everyone in the world believed it. You were staying dead, especially to those animals. You also didn’t think free reign to kill was in anyone's best interests. Victor was an exception, and you still thought it shouldn’t have had to come down to you. “What’s the plan if Rebecca is like me?”

“We haven’t really decided anything. ”

Good. Knowing that no one would ever be deciding what to do with Rebecca if she turned out to be like you. Not a single soul, no one except her. And that was the hill you would die on, that no matter what happened, Rebecca would be choosing herself. No lies, no prisons, no manipulation. Maria finally sat down to eat her very cold food. You would kill every one of them if they tried to pull this shit with her. That was the only occasion you would ever be using your powers again, to protect her. You found yourself wanting to go back on the promise not to hurt anyone, instead you ground your teeth into the noodles. Maria did make a comment about feeling far more at ease now she knew you could use your powers to protect yourself, you weren't about to tell her that was a loophole.

Sleep still didn’t come. You listened to the sounds of the city and tried to form a game plan in your mind before going back. Fragments of ideas came into your mind, but nothing solid, nothing fully iron clad. You needed to talk it over with someone you trusted. You had snuffed out the life of that person and crushed your own soul in the process. The only thing you were certain of is that you couldn't allow yourself to be manipulated again. Maria walked into you standing at the same window, cup in hand, watching the world rotate. She stopped herself from making a comment, but the concern was there, she warned you before Fury arrived. Tension formed in your spine, no one was going to convince you otherwise. No matter how counterintuitive it was, you were going back. Fury strolled in and set a blow torch on the kitchen side. Maria sighed loudly in despair. You were surprised he was willing to help, even came up with a solution, just burn the names away from your body. Maria moved to collect it.

“Stand down, that’s an order.” Turning his attention back to you. “No hug?” You weren’t ready, he knew that, he almost cracked a smile. Removing his long black coat, he settled next to you, pouring himself a black coffee. “How are you holding up?” You shrugged, you weren’t sure, nothing seemed to be penetrating the surface. “You know Clint is retired now, living with his family.”

There are no happy endings. The loss of Natasha, sacrificing herself, you couldn’t imagine being put in that position. You heard that Clint referred to himself as a weapon to be used, you wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment. The entire system was flawed; the fact Scott still had a criminal record was appalling enough. You couldn’t name a single person who had been given a happy ending, it just didn’t fit into this lifestyle. Fury pulled his phone out, quickly scanning a message, peering over his shoulder, he confirmed he had a team at the Castle.

“My Castle?” You didn’t even wait for confirmation, running to the door with them both on your tail, knocking your coffee flying, you sprinted to the roof, lifting the quinjet into the air without even checking if they were on board. You didn’t need to enter coordinates, you memorised the route back to your safe place a long time ago. Many questions came your way from Fury. You pushed the jet to its limits; your only reply was to get everyone out.

Barely touching down, you raced inside, through the holes in the walls that the team had blasted through, as if they were the same holes you had carved into your own heart. Entering the lab that held so many memories of yourself. The machines around you were flickering, they had been forced to life. Victor was the source of electricity here, now the machines themselves knew that he was gone. Your heart pulled again, being here without him felt wrong. Careful not to speak, you grabbed an external hard drive. As soon as you touched the keyboard, the machine roared into life, recognising you as an ally. You held your breath as you expected the doombots to rush out, pocketing the small device that presented itself to you. Maria turned away from the screen in disgust. A picture of your sleeping form safe inside your glass coffin, with Victor resting his forehead against it, you were thankful his back was turned to you. You plugged in the harddrive and searched for every video file you could. As none of these files were named but that wasn’t a concern, you checked within the data to check there hadn’t been any copies made and deleted them all. Then you extracted every last piece of data on Hydra Victor had, locations, jobs, anything.

“What does this do?” Fury poked at a machine in front of him with a bit too much confidence, you pretended that Fury wasn’t messing with the super serum, the same thing that destroyed this same lab long ago. You held onto Victor's lack of grief, how he just moved forward, that it didn’t matter to him that everything was destroyed. You nodded to yourself, trying to invoke the same feeling, pulling out the hard drive you indicated for them both to follow. You let them both step over the broken misshapen bricks first and hurried behind them. Taking one last lingering look at your glass cabinet, wishing you could rest peacefully just one more time, you pulled out the smaller shield with just a fragment of the anulux battery.

“Self destruct.” You pressed your thumb down on the device as the explosion rang behind you, shielding everyone from the blast. The Castle walls rumbled but stayed strong as you knew they would. Fury and Maria hit the deck, you didn’t even blink you knew Victor’s device would protect you. You were the only thing walking out of here, the last part of Victor’s legacy. Soulmate. You mind whispered. You had no idea where these machines were going and what someone would do with them. No one would and you couldn’t have someone else’s hands Victor’s things, it felt like they were digging inside his brain.

“I knew you were gonna pull some shit.” Fury sounded pissed. You held your hand out to pull him up and then Maria. You handed her the harddrive, she asked about the videos to use as evidence and you shook your head, they didn’t need to be viewed by anyone. You threw the small device into the flames. Walking directly to the jet you sat with your head in your hands, every last part of Victor was gone, you had to leave it all here, leave the Castle. You didn't notice when the jet took off, let alone when it landed, not until Fury spoke.

“Stay off my radar.”

You stood up, nose wrinkling at the smell of smoke in your hair, you wrapped one arm around him, reminding yourself that the reason you had him and Maria was because of your absolute point, the one moment that happened in every universe. Fury rescued you. “That’s the plan.” You answered, he chuckled lightly in your ear.

“You’re not that special. I got bigger fish to fry.”

–

As you already smelt like soot and smoke you elected to remove the names from your body once you got back, in the shower to try and keep the smell of burning flesh to one area. You opened and closed the window over and over, just because you could. As those names blistered and melted your skin, you knew you couldn't allow Hydra to be your problem anymore. You passed the buck to Maria, you knew Zemo would be making his own sordid plans for them too. You had to be cooperative, willing to be supervised, at least that is what you were telling yourself Zemo was going to be doing, anything else just wasn’t an option. Night was descending and although you weren't sure if you were tired your limbs certainly felt heavy. Using a towel to roughly dry your hair, you walked back into the kitchen seeking the leftovers from the Chinese after you had emptied your guts, only to come across Wanda and an extremely glib looking Maria standing just behind her. This was why Maria had been so silent at the Castle she had a contingency plan. You didn’t care what either of them had to say, the answer was no.

“Don’t you have a body to dig for?” You snarled at Maria.

“She is.” Wanda wiggled her fingers at you, which looked as if she dipped the very tips in black paint. From this far? You were pretty sure there wasn’t anything Wanda couldn't do. Wanda then went on to explain that ‘something’ happened, that a select few knew she was alive, she had put herself into hiding and that you had nothing to worry about as she needed express permission to use any of her powers.

“Express WHAT!” Screaming at Maria, this is exactly what they did to you. For what Westview? Wanda stood in between you and Maria, with her hands held up in surrender.

“I can help you, take your memories of Hydra away.” She blurted out.

“I lied, I am going to hurt someone.” You seethed. Wanda moved back pushing Maria further away from you. Wanda knew your rage wasn’t for her, it was for Maria. Maria didn’t just mean your memories of Hydra, she would take everything. To have your memories taken? To go back to square one? To let this happen all over? Maria had lost her fucking mind. Your emotions bubbled over, you couldn’t believe that anyone would seriously consider this after everything. Wanting to burn a hole through Wanda, just to see if Maria had any remorse on her face, you lunged only to be knocked back by a blast of red light.

–

Red pushed into your eyes, flowing through your skull, scarlet waves melted through your mind.

“What have you done?” You wheezed.

“Nothing, not yet.”

“Where are we?” You gasped, hearing the birds sing above the perfectly aligned rows and rows of trees. You could smell the crispness in the air. A calm settled over you, something with you resonated with Wanda, your powers, just like Zemo predicted.

“My mind. I don’t want to be inside yours.” She said sadly as cutters appeared in her hand, she plucked a branch and handed you an apple from her orchard. Holy shit. Wanda smirked as if she heard that. “Maria is being quite persistent,” Wanda grimaced. “I have put you to sleep.”

You sighed. “ She means well, she isn’t the enemy”.

“They are not your friends.” Wanda stated dryly. “They use us. Expect us to save them. Turn on us the moment we fail. They are all hypocrites.”

“What happened to you?”

“I lost my boys.” Wanda spoke so softly you barely heard her, but you already knew that, you knew that when you saw her back at the Raft, you knew about Westview then, this was more than that. That was devastating enough, you couldn’t imagine what havoc you would wreak if after all of this you discovered Rebecca wasn’t real, once again you found yourself marvelling at her strength. Wanda took the time to examine her fingertips, brushing the last remnants of black, as if they had almost faded, but wouldn’t quite disappear. A smile crossed her face that was proud, her eyebrows pulled together and her eyes glazed over. “You’re one step ahead of me, you already know you’re a monster.”

“You’re not a monster Wanda.”

“It's that kind of thinking that made it so easy for him to love you. You silenced Zemo's mind, with one touch, stopped his pain.” You couldn’t tell if you missed him or not, if you even did, parts of him. Speechless you didn’t have any answer to that, well you did, But you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life explaining everything that happened after Wanda shared a meal with you both back on the Raft. “All you ever wanted was to help people, you saved the world. Was it worth it?” You knew the world was worth saving, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to say yes. “No good deed goes unpunished.” Wanda closed her eyes as if she were honing in on something. “The guilt is going to eat them alive.”

Victor.

Your heart lurched again. In a way Victor died from guilt, from the guilt of knowing what he had done to you. Was Wanda suggesting everyone would die? Was that the real reason behind taking your memories? So you could start over, so everyone else could. A clean slate. Would you be better off not knowing? Going back blindly? Or better off knowing it all? You needed more time to figure all of this out.

“It's so peaceful here.”

“Its not real.”

–

Waking up slowly, gently to scarlet eyes, you felt genuinely well rested. A respite from your insomnia. Wanda stayed, kept you inside her tranquil garden, so your own mind couldn’t roam, couldn't bring any unnecessary thoughts to the surface. Rolling over so you could face Wanda properly you pondered if your forming plan would work. You wondered if Wanda could take Zemo's memories, trying not to feel slighted that he once requested this very thing in an attempt to manipulate you. Only to feel that quashed by the multiverse, you were with him in every world. Wanda smiled knowingly at you, another idea thwarted. There wasn’t any other way around this.

“If you ever need me-” You started.

“You have your own battles to fight.” She solemnly said, taking her leave.

It didn’t take long for Maria to return, looking haggard, dumping her bag down after another fruitless day of searching for a body that wasn’t there. She rubbed her swollen eyes, slightly pulled on her own hair, clutched her phone, looking up to the ceiling as if she could see through to the sky. She didn't need to feel guilty for her request, it was a very good idea. You wanted to relieve her of that anxiety until she spoke.

“Oeznik’s dying.”

The room spun and you gripped onto the kitchen counter. Your stomach cramped like it never had before. The air ripped from your lungs as a lump formed in your throat. You nodded tersely and tried to move to the door, you had to go back now, you had to see him. Taking a single step only to sink down to your knees. Maria dropped in front of you her lips were moving but you wouldn’t hear it. How could this happen? How was this fair? You had to keep a grip on your emotions, you couldn’t let anything worse happen. You tried to tell her you had to go back, you had to, right now. Finally making sense of her words, you understood Oeznik had been unwell for a while, he had a heart attack and was in a nearby hospital, it was too risky to go. Feeling that hitch in your breath you couldn’t accept it, you wouldn’t.

“Which hospital?”

–

Sitting at Oezniks bedside with the photostatic veil firmly over your face, cap secured on and ear piece in, you winced at every breath he took, the death rattle you heard about, you could hear it now, if you didn’t know better you would argue it hurt you more than it hurt Oeznik. Oeznik was your saviour, he warned you about Zemo, he tried to help you and somehow out of everyone out there, all of the people that did not deserve the oxygen they breathed his time had come. Maria gave up her goodbye with him, mainly because you were wearing her face. Not that that would stop Zemo, fucker recognised you with you face covered and in a full cloak. You knew he was on his way to collect Oeznik and take him home, probably drugged Oeznik up so he slept while he made arrangements.

“Maria?” Ozenik croaked. Tipping your hat up, you pulled the veil from your face. Oeznik's expression changed immediately, yet he didn’t look terrified like everyone else did, he was genuinely happy to see you. Oezniks eyes watered and you blinked rapidly against your own. He tried to speak again and you hushed him.

“Thank you.” You wished you had the time to thank him for every last little thing. Maria screeched into your ear. You bent down to place the last kisses on Oeznik’s cheeks. You smiled ignoring the commands from Maria, you wanted to rip out your own heart and give it to Oeznik to make him live on. Pushing the veil onto your face you forced yourself to walk away, safe in the knowledge that you didn’t have to tell Oeznik not to tell Zemo, you knew he wouldn’t. You knew he would keep your secrets.

“Rebecca is a treasure.” Oeznik choked over his own words, eyes brimming with adoration. His last words, used to comfort you. Opening the door just along from his, slipping past the coma patient you hoisted yourself up in the air vent, closing the grate behind you. Crawling out to meet Maria you just put one hand in front of the other, out onto the sidewalk you walked straight past her and you just kept walking, kept moving, pushing people out of your way. You got through all of this without someone you loved dying, there was no way it could last. You pounded the pavement for hours, trying to make sense of it all, it was so unfair. So unwarranted. You wished you didn’t hear the alert on Maria’s phone, wished you didn’t turn to see her face, because the moment you did, you knew. Ozenik was gone and the world didn’t stop, it didn’t mourn and it should, for the world to lose someone as amazing as Oeznik, the loss should be felt everywhere. Rebecca just lost one of the most important people in her life, just aged three. This had to be rock bottom, it had to be, only one thought filled your mind.

It was meant to be me.

–

You cracked open a beer for Maria before she returned. You had to keep your mind off Oeznik or your impending arrival home. You couldn't allow yourself to spiral, you had made it so far and you were so close to the end. To the goal, to being with Rebecca. Maria looked more stressed than you had ever seen her. But then she was contending with you and your stubbornness. Probably wondering if you were going to snap at any moment. Her phone rang, she didn’t answer it, instead she just stared at you, by that alone you knew who was calling. Might as well get this over with. You answered as Maria downed at least half of the bottle.

“Maria could you explain to me why I am arranging Oeznik’s funeral and not my wife’s?”

“I’m tired.” She answered flatly.

“Whilst that may be true, I cannot help but feel as if you are lying to me.” You and Maria locked eyes. Shit. “James and I will join you once we return from Sokovia.”

“I’ll find her, you don’t have to do this again.” Maria laced sympathy in her tone, pulling out your necklace from her bag, she held her hands out to you grimacing, knowing she had fucked up, that needed to go back. “When is the funeral?” Maria asked, fishing for information, the pitch of her tone went up and you knew you both had been had.

“Hmmm.” Zemo cooed. “I will locate her and bring her home.” He had never sounded so sure of anything in his life. Wincing at the feral undertone of his voice you waited and finally the screen went blank. You were pleased your heart hadn’t begun to race. You were going home alright, just Zemo wouldn’t be the one to do it. Safe with the knowledge he would be far away for a few days, you showed Maria what you had spent the day doing. Looking into any and all information about yourself that you could find. Hacking networks, breaking down firewalls and erasing it all. Every last snippet. You and Victor both tried to find Zemo’s, Bucky’s, Maria’s networks, you were stonewalled, every time. According to Ross, the guards at the Raft, you died shortly after being kidnapped. Everyone in Louisiana, well you died about three years ago. You removed that all too. To erase yourself from existence, so Hydra wouldn’t come looking, or the next Victor, who could use you for their own advantage.

“Project Sunshine?” Maria said confused, nursing her second beer. Just one page of data, but no one would have looked at it twice, an abandoned project. Amongst all the rest of the horrifying data that came from the Hydra dump and the other reason Victor didn’t use your nickname, he knew. It’s more than likely how Hydra found you. That shining personality of yours, even as a child and the unassuming woman you became. Who you needed to be, whatever happened from here. You weren't Hydra’s you would never be. Maria skimmed the data, looking up at you torn, she didn’t know what to say.

“The sun gives everything life, we can’t exist without it, but if you get too close...” You trailed off, you didn’t even sound sad, you weren’t. A nickname that wouldn’t evoke fear in anyone's hearts. Your light would draw them in, until they discovered the only thing you could bring them was pain. A perfect description and thus the perfect nickname. A direct contradiction and yet exactly what you were. Nudging your shoulder against Maria’s so she would drop the look of pity. “I am Sunshine.” You said emphasising your content at this discovery.

“You could take them all down.”

You knew that, you just didn’t think that being sent on a murder spree was the right direction to go in, Hydra would really have their weapon then. You had to be realistic, conscientious, this could all still go terribly wrong. In your mind, once Zemo had you within his grasp, Hydra would never get to you again, simply because you would never be let out again. You couldn’t get closure, having that privilege would only let the darkness within you thrive. Maria needed to hurt them, she burned for revenge, she watched all of this play out, she needed to see Hydra's demise, personally. Whereas you grieved for your life a long time ago. You could only imagine what Zemo and Bucky were planning, the desire to kill something, crawling under their skin. Reaching out you tucked her hair behind her ear, and although her eyes followed you closely, she didn’t flinch. You would never get used to anyone looking at you like that, like you should be feared. She reminded you so much of Mary, the one woman who promised to smuggle you out from Hydra, she held strong until the bitter end, they tortured her in front of you, leaving her corpse in your view, then Fury found you.

“Sorry.” You muttered, you were always free to reach out and touch Victor, you should ask permission, you knew better.

“No, it’s me, I’m not being fair to you.”

“You really want to talk about what’s not fair?” You shook your head with a smile and Maria laughed tiredly with you.

–

Feeling slightly ashamed that you had to drag Maria into this scheme, you both spent the next few days going over what you both knew about your soon to be home. Any security Maria put in place had been changed or upgraded. In between her trips to Wakanda, you both created your own firewalls, encryptions, removing every trace or mention of you from every corner of the internet. It would be as if you never existed. Except Shuri’s, neither of you could come up with a feasible reason to search through Wakana's networks freely, no matter what either of you tried, you couldn't get access. Maria asked some prying questions about Victor, which you answered openly, she was only interested in the crimes he committed, not who he was. She told you that Sam spent more time at the house than Bucky, but you didn’t expect any less from Sam. He would step up and be whoever he needed to be. You let her know that Hydra didn’t know about Rebecca, that Victor gave you his word. You both agreed you would never convince Zemo of that. Maria argued that Victor gave you to Hydra and he did, so your powers would grow, you told her about Sharon. Told her that Victor was never wrong about anything, the world loved him, even she was thankful for him, right up until the moment she knew he had you. You didn't tell her he saved Rebecca. She was getting more and more flustered trying to contradict you, to show you that Victor was evil. You weren’t exactly filling her with confidence, you didn’t have the best track record. This was going your way or no way at all, you reminded her of that with a glint in your eyes. You must have got under her skin because this was the time she decided to spring some news on you.

“Barnes and Zemo have been granted diplomatic immunity, to take down Hydra.”

“How convenient.” You replied sarcastically. Actual free reign, they were getting freedom, while you were about to be locked away again. You had some more bad news for her. “So….” you danced around it. “There is this Hydra agent, Louise, about twenty-”

“No, please don't-”

“Welcome to the world of doing things you don’t want to.”

–

Maria managed to convince you to take some sleeping pills, making a compelling case about resting as much as you could, while you could. Eyes opening to an unfamiliar room and a new companion in your bed, Maria opened her mouth and you brought your finger to your lips to quiet her. You just needed a moment to comprehend that this is where you were, in a soft bed, wrapped up warm, in a scenario so far away from everything you knew.

Gathering the last supplies, pulling on your dirt ridden clothes, smearing some over your face, you both headed out, swapping cars a few times along the way. Maria insisted, just in case Hydra were following, like those dumbasses could ever find this place. If Victor couldn’t then no one else can. Driving through the traffic at night as Maria let you sleep as long as you possibly could, all day in fact, your knees bobbed up and down, you told yourself it was excitement, you were finally going to meet your daughter. Rebecca came with Zemo and he could hold you in the basement forever, hold the possibility of seeing Rebecca over your head, you just had to hope he wouldn’t. On your way to the house you swore up and down you hated, that you would never return to, the place Victor promised he would get you to, a place you were sure Oeznik would have frog marched you straight out of, instead he had been laid to rest today. As one left your home a new one would enter. And now it was your only destination, only this time you would go in willingly, with the knowledge needed to survive. As Fury said, hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Back into the belly of the beast, to the very last cage. Everything would be fake smiles and holding your face still, you would have to seek out some sort of solace. Rebecca. it would have to be. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You couldn’t allow yourself to be ensnared by Zemo again, you still remember what it was like to love him, like you had to apologise for it. You would be trapped again and as always Zemo would have what he wanted, he would have you.

“You sure about this?” Maria asked but it sounded as if she were begging you, to not to do this. What could Zemo do that Hydra hadn’t? The chances of him letting you out with less than zero. Letting anyone else but Bucky in, perhaps not even that. Maria could be unburdened of you, at the very least, this way she would know where you were.

“We have a back up plan.” You reminded her. Just cough and she would find a way to get you out, she was counting on seeing you again, you knew better, this was it. You didn't have the heart to tell her that. Maria pulled over the car to what looked like an empty field, you saw the way into Wakanda looks could be deceiving. Exiting the car, you jumped up and down, just to burn off some of the nervous energy. Or to gear yourself up for whatever lay ahead. You wished Victor were here, wished he was with you. Not that he would ever agree to this. Walking over to the driver’s side Maria head was on the wheel, you could see the soft trembles of her body.

“Just give me a minute.” She sniffled. This was more difficult for her, she felt as if she had a hand in it. Or maybe she did know that this was it. You would never see each other again. Your past always seemed to hurt her more than it did you. In letting you do this, she felt as if the cycle of hell would continue, not that she could have stopped you. You were getting back in that house come hell or high water. You grabbed the electromagnetic pulse, to knock out as much security as you both could and and paced around. This had to work, it just had to.

“You sure about this?” She asked again.

Instead of answering you started walking away from the car. Rebecca was in that house, that was all that mattered, anything beyond that, you would endure. You both walked along the road for a while only stopping when you both knew it was far enough. Far enough for the pulse to miss the car, for Maria to run and get out of here faster than Zemo could get out to investigate. Maria shook her head with watery eyes and forced herself to nod, but in her eyes was nothing but fear. You nodded back to her, trying to show that this was the right thing to do, that this was the only way. You dropped the electromagnetic pulse into her shaking hand and wondered if her heart was beating as fast as yours. Today of all day’s, the day you got to reclaim, to finally make the choice on what was happening. Maria pressed the button with a desperate sound, striking you hard in the head with the but of her gun. “Happy birthday.”

–

Your eyes flew open this time, pushing to sit up, you stared into your lap, seeing the embroidered, silk sheets knowing you were lying in the decadent bed of the master bedroom, a bedroom you once shared with Zemo. An undertone of must lingered in the air. A film of dust clung to the furniture. Which could only mean this room hadn’t been used recently, untouched. The gentlest squeeze on your hand elicited a gasp from your mouth. Eyes flicking up to Sam at the end of your bed, hand over mouth, eyes rounded, as if he were looking at a dead person. You moved your eyes to Bucky who was just a step closer with something that looked like a pained but friendly smile on his face, eyes as wide as Sam’s. Grimacing internally, you knew who had their hand intertwined with your own, you took a deep breath in, in an attempt to remain calm.

“Everything is going to be alright.” Zemo croaked out. No it won’t. You wanted to tear out your heart that tiny part of you that leapt at just the sound of his voice, his real voice, no memory, no alternate version, your Zemo. You made a display of darting your eyes around the room, frowning, putting a hand to the place you remember Maria’s gun slamming into you. Feeling the air shift, the calm before the storm. They were all waiting for you, you were pretty sure they weren’t expecting this, they could never have predicted this. You watched Sam shift his weight uncomfortably. Bucky’s eyes darted between you and Zemo, he might have just caught on. Finally turning to look into the sorrowful honey eyes of your enemy, of your husband, sitting at the edge of your bed, stroking his thumb back and forth across your knuckles. Holding his gaze you almost changed your mind, believed you could both work it all out. A soft whimper fell from your lips at the gravity of what you had done, stomach plummeting at the life you had returned to, the nightmare you would never wake from. Swallowing thickly against the heaving of your chest, you steeled your focus on Zemo, seeing the blank filter into his eyes, watching all and any hope die, you snatched your hand away, turning away so you didn’t have to watch the devastation you were about to cause, you let the shudder in your body flow out into your voice.

“Who are you?”

Next Part: https://www.tumblr.com/zemossunshine/710852659593330688/sunshine-chapter-45?source=share

#dark zemo #zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x you #dark #dr doom

5 notes · View notes

fleetwoodmak99 · 4 years ago

Text

Primed for Sin (3/10)

SUMMARY: Arthur 'accidently' bumps into Elena while getting her mail. She's surprised and delighted when the mysterious man offers to take her out on a date. While she goes about her day, she doesn't realize she's in the company of Arthur as well. Maybe it was a good thing too when three men walked onto the subway and approached his lady.

WARNING: Assult, attempted RAPE, murder.

No smut this chapter but next chapter will be dirtier.

Primed for Sin part 2

Arthur seriously couldn't control his thinking. He swore there was something else in his head. Thoughts would pop into his head at an incredible speed that he wouldn't even be able to keep up with them. He just wish he could be with her but as each day passed on, his hope was beginning to die.

So he decided it was time to push. He wanted his love story with her to be organic and special, not forced. It reminded him of all the old romantic movies his mom would make him watch when he was a kid.

He decided he would wait til she had to get her mail. She would get it every day on her way back from work. He would bump into her there. He had grabbed a toy percy train to give to Michael, hoping it would earn brownie points with the boy. Then hoping to ask Elena out on a date, not looking forward to the anxiety and laughing attacks that would probably follow but it was worth it.

He waited til she had gotten off of work, watched her pick up Michael and pick up some carry out before they both head back to the apartment building. Arthur followed in pursuit as he waited for his time to make his entrance.

-------------------------------------------------------

Elena fondled with her keys and held a bag of food. Her feet hurt from walking around all day. All she wanted was to lay down on the couch and watch Thomas was Michael, as childish as that sounds.

Elena let out a groan when her keys fell to the floor. Stopping to contemplate her life decisions, she stared at the floor where the keys had landed. Looking over to Michael who had his big brown eyes set on her reaction.

"Today is just not our day is it little one." She offered him a smile. Michael too smiled back up at her as he squeezed her leg.

They were interrupted by a gentleman clearing his throat, with the keys in hand. A forced smile on his face. "Looking for these?"

Elena stood there shocked, not expecting the same man from the elevator to be extending his arm to her. She finally snapped out of it as she grabbed the keys from his hands.

She notice his hands were bony and bruised. She wondered why they would look so beat up. She could feel herself wanting to care for his beautiful hands.

"Thank you sir." She put her hand back to her side. She could feel Michael leaning into her from behind.

The mans smile disappeared as he too place his hands down. "Please c-call me A-Arthur." He shuddered, almost forcing the words out. She could see his hands tighten into a fist.

She just simply nodded her head, "Arthur, I like that name. I'm Elena and this," her eyes focused on the little boy hiding behind her pant leg, "is Michael." She placed her hand on the little boys head as a way to comfort the boy. She could tell he was tired and would want his food soon.

She turned her attention back to Arthur who was now holding the toy train Percy in his hands. He extended it out to the boy.

"I-i was so touched by your gesture the other day that I thought you would like this. His names Percy right?" He extended his arm out once again. Only this time towards the boy.

The boy seemed hesitant. Looking up at his big sister for permission. She smiled down at him and with a simple nod, he ran up to the man to snatch the toy out of his hands.

"Yep." Michael uttered. "He the color green so he's different from Thomas. Thomas is the color blue." He began to ramble on about the random facts about the train tv show.

Elena knew he would go on all night if she didn't save Arthur from such torture. She quickly picked up the boy, placing him in her protective arms. Rustling with her keys once again, she was able to get it inside the lock and open the mail box. She continued to talk to the man.

"What do you say Michael?" The boy eyes grew wide before profusely thanking him for giving him his new toy. She was glad to see a smile was spread across Arthurs face. A genuine one too.

Not wanting to really leave but knowing she had to, she bid him farwell and began to walk past the man. He was able to get in between her and the door.

She took a step back. She wasn't frightening, just surprised. "I-i'm sorry. I-i'm really bad at these kinds of things. Y-you're really pretty and I-i was hoping that you would... well I was wondering if you would want to ... maybe... come out and see my comedy show?"

As difficult as it must have been for him to get those words out, Elena couldn't help but think it was extremely cute the way he would get so nervous around her. It made her feel something he didn't even realize she lacked.

Arthur waited patiently for Elenas answer and his excited grew when a smile stretched across her sweet face and she let out a little giggle.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, it's just been a while since anyone has asked me out. The only time actually." She let out a nervous laugh as she felt like a loser letting herself reveal too much of her innocence. "I didn't know you were a comedian but I would love to come see a show."

She looked down at her purse as she started to push objects around. Finding a piece of paper and a pen, she began writing down numbers. "Here's my number. Just give me a call and let me know when you have a show."

She handed the piece of paper over to Arthur with a shy smile. He whispered ' thank you' as he took the slip from her.

He watched her as she looked at the floor then back up at him, only using her eyes and never moving her head. They stood there for a moment, just taking in everything before Elena broke the silence.

"Well I hope to hear from you Arthur. Have a good night." She whispered sweetly as she walked past him. She slightly brushed against his shoulder while doing so and not ok accident. She couldn't help the undeniable attraction she had towards him but she would just have to wait and see what just exactly the future had in store for the both of them.

-------------------------------------------------------

It was the next day. Elena and Michael had gone about their business as usual. Working as a bartender for a few hours before she started to head home after her night shift. Even with all this activity going on, she still couldn't get her mind off Arthur.

She wondered when he would call. In a few hours? A few day?

God i hate waiting. She notioned.

She was completely lost in thought as walked onto the subway train as she made her way to pick up Michael. She was forced out of her thoughts when she saw three men sat at the end of the cart laughing drunkly to eachother. Luckly not paying any attention to her.

What she didn't notice was the footsteps that had been following her since she had left. Arthur had to make sure his perfect girl got home safe. He didn't even have to follow far behind as the girl was lost in her own head and not paying attention to her surroundings.

Arthur took a seat a few rows down from Elena. Just far enough to be out of eyes reach but close enough to keep an eye on her.

He grabbed his journal out and held it up so if she looked in his direction, he would have something to cover his face. He also had a clown mask he stole from work, just in case. He couldn't take any chances.

Elena became lost in her thoughts once again after sitting down in the middle of the train cart. She focused on how blue Arthurs eyes were. They looked like the ocean water. She swear she could just get lost in them.

She continued this thought pattern as the three drunk men started to make their way towards the distracted girl. She only looked up when she felt a hand on her knee.

"Hey baby. What are you doing here all alone?" One of the men spoke. Elena could already smell the liquor coming off his breath. He leaned over the chair as he squeezed he leg.

Out of instinct, Elena pushed the mans hand away. "Get off me."

She could feel her panic starting to rise. She was now surrounded by three men. All who seemed to be wealthy as they were dressed up in expensive clothing for some event.

Arthur panicked as he saw the three men surrounding her. He couldn't forget the horror that laid across her face. Anger brewed inside him just from that alone.

Without even thinking, Arthur jumped into action. Reaching down to his bag and grabbing the clown mask as well as the already loaded gun Randall had given him just days ago.

Arthurs terror, the three men had started grabbing at the defenseless girl. She struggled against them with all her might but still couldn't get out of their hold.

BANG!

The sudden load noise pierced her ears as she thought fire crackers were going off. She struggled again enough for the men to let go over her arms. She immediately put her hands to her ears in an attempt to block them from the loud piercing shots that continued to ring across the train.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Elena squeezed her eyes shut, trying to disappear all together. Her ears rang. She couldnt stop her body from beginning to shake as the shots stopped.

She no longer felt any hands on her. She slowly opened her eyes. Seeing shitty light flickering, smoke coming from one side of the train. She nearly screamed when she looked down to see the three men who had just a few moments ago tried assaulting her now laying on the floor in a pool of their blood. She could see the gunshot wounds scattered across the men's bodies.

Elena began to feel her stomach turn. She couldn't look at it anymore yet she couldn't turn away. Her breathing started to quicken. Not being able to control her breathing. She couldn't even comprehend what she was feeling let alone what had just happened.

Clinking noises turned her attention to the clown with the gun looking wildly at her. To her surprise he didn't move. He just stood there with the gun pointed at the dead men on the floor. They seemed to stare at eachother for what seemed to be an eternity.

Elena tried taking in his feature but she couldn't even remember what she was thinking. Eventually he forced himself to quickly turn around and grab his book bag before darting out the door, leaving Elena in a state of disarray and a pool of blood.

After a few minutes of just trying to focus on her breathing, she was able to get up on her shaky legs and walk outside the train cart doors. Luckily the train hadn't even left the station.

She looked for the man in the clown mask but saw no one. After searching with no success she glanced back into the train cart to see a brown rectangle shape sitting on the seat in one of the rows. She wondered if this was were the clown had sat.

Walking up to the object, she could now see it was a journal. Picking it up she examined its binding before she flipped to the first page, seeing the name of the man responsible for practically saving her life. Arthur Fleck.

#arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck #joker

19 notes · View notes

severetimetravelnerd · 4 years ago

Text

Hatred and Love (ft.G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 10

You make a tough decision.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

@kwonnansi

@aarfyie

@suhappysuho

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Okay, so here, the war against EXO intensifies even more. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino, Hanbin and EXO (mostly Kai). This continues with the EXO storyline, but again, I have nothing against EXO :)) I love them, but I had to use someone for the plot.

I just hit 100 followers guys!!!! Thank you so much for all your support!!! I’ll try my level best to keep writing :))) Please do keep supporting me and I’m always open to feedback :))))

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Injury, Blood, Eventual smut, Abduction, Guns and Knives, language, emotional breakdown. Slight symptoms of PTSD(nightmares), one mention of the word rape.

————————————————————————–

Jiyong’s mind started racing. There were so many things that could have gone wrong with your plan. How long ago did you leave? Could you even shoot properly? What if they kept both you and Hanbin? What if they tortured you? Oh god. What if those were his last words to you? He shook his head. His voice hoarse and weak, he called for Youngbae. Youngbae walked in a few minutes later, wondering why Jiyong would want him there in the middle of trying to make up with his girlfriend, but the moment he say Jiyong sitting on the edge on the bed, his eyes red and his head in his hands, he knew you had left. For the first time in his life, Jiyong’s voice sounded shaky.

“Youngbae, she left to go get Hanbin back. She left because of what I said.”

Youngbae leaned against the wall, thinking. He couldn’t lie to Jiyong. What he said probably did make you leave, but he didn’t know how to comfort Jiyong for that. This was the lowest he had ever seen Jiyong. Jiyong was always calm and collected, with a plan, but the man who sat in front of him was a shaking mess, unable to wrap his head around what happened. Youngbae sighed.

“Jiyong, get ready. We’re going to go get them back here in one piece so that your sorry ass can apologise to your girlfriend.”

Jiyong blindly obeyed Youngbae, taking orders like that for the first time in his life. Youngbae had called Seunghyun, Daesung and Mino. They were also getting ready. Youngbae was just coordinating some details for the plan, so Jiyong walked out. He wasn’t thinking straight. He needed some fresh air. He walked out of the house and stared at the sky, laughing at how no matter what was happening on the earth below, the skies always remained aloof and uninterested. He had just taken out a cigarette when he froze, hearing footsteps. Out of reflex, he took out his gun and aimed with one hand and shone the torch in the direction of the footsteps with the other. He was about to shoot when he realised it was Hanbin, with someone with him. He didn’t notice that EXO’S Jongin was in their headquarters. He just noticed that Hanbin was carrying an unconscious you.

Jongin and Hanbin had gotten you out of his house alright, Hanbin carrying you and Jongin focussing on defence. Jongin had to shoot a few more of Joonmyeon’s men in their feet, but overall, there wasn’t too much damage. Jongin drove following Hanbin’s instructions to get to the headquarters. Jongin was terrified. Jiyong was the enemy after all, but he knew that at the same time, he was his best bet. They reached the house, Hanbin getting out of the car and running while carrying you, wanting to get you to a bed and a doctor. He also paused when he was stopped by the flashing of a torch in his face and the sound of a gun being pulled out. When the suddenness of the light faded away, he looked up and realised it was Jiyong.

Jiyong slowly put down the gun. For the first time in his life, he sounded broken.

“Hanbin, wh-what happened to her? Why is she unconscious?”

Hanbin ignored his question.

“Hyung, I’m taking her up to her room. Jongin is with us. He helped us a lot. We have to offer him protection for a while.”

Jiyong just nodded, staring weakly at your limp body in Hanbin’s arms and wanting nothing more than to just kill himself for putting you in a situation like that. Hanbin moved past Jiyong and ran up the stairs, not bothering to look back. Jongin still had his gun out, and was about to follow Hanbin, but he stopped and stared at Jiyong for a while. Jiyong was just frozen, looking absolutely desolate and broken beyond measure. Jongin felt some pity for him. He softly said,

“Why are you standing here? Follow Hanbin.”

Jiyong blankly looked at Jongin and nodded. He should be there with you. He needed to be there with you.

Jiyong numbly walked up the stairs and into his room. Hanbin had laid you down on the bed and was checking your temperature.

“Hyung, she’s burning up. Call Hyorin noona. We need a doctor here.”

Jiyong nodded and opened his phone, but his vision was getting hazy. He wasn’t able to think straight. Jongin took one look at him and sighed.

“Hanbin, he isn’t going to be able to call anyone right now. He’s in shock. Find Youngbae.”

Hanbin nodded, his eyes never leaving you. He called Youngbae hyung, grateful that he answered his phone on the first ring.

“Hanbin? Where are you? How are you calling me right now? What happened to Y/N? How’d you escape from Jongin?”

Hanbin cut him off.

“Hyung, I’ll explain later, but call Hyorin noona. We need a doctor here for Y/N. Jongin, Jiyong hyung, Y/N and I are in hyung’s room.”

Hanbin jumped up, turning around and glaring at Jiyong. His voice dangerously low and angry, he said,

“Hyung, what did you say to her? Why the fuck would you send her alone? What would you have done is something had happened to her?”

Jiyong was still numb. He couldn’t take his eyes off your unconscious body. He turned to Hanbin, still numb, and in a disconcerted voice, said,

“I told her that she was the reason we lost you and that I don’t know why we aren’t giving in to EXO’s demands.”

Hanbin stared at him in shock.

“Hyung, you told her you didn’t know why you weren’t giving her up to EXO?”

Jiyong nodded, looking paler by the second. Jongin just scoffed.

“Wow, good job of keeping her happy and safe.”

Jiyong couldn’t even defend himself.

“Jiyong hyung, you know she came with a high fever, right? That didn’t go down because I couldn’t get the medicine to her? Yeah. You should also know she collapsed from shock today, after killing someone for the first time.”

Hanbin took a step closer.

“You said you’d keep her safe. You said you’d never be the mafia boss around her. What happened to that, huh? God, hyung.”

Hanbin could barely even look at him.

“You disgust me.”

It was at that moment that Youngbae and Hyorin walked in. Raising an eyebrow at what happened, Youngbae walked between Jiyong and Hanbin and held Hanbin’s shoulder, his voice soft but firm when he said,

“Hanbin, that’s enough. You can’t talk to your boss that way.”

Hanbin stepped back and looked away, fuming. Hyorin stepped closer to you and began checking your condition. Jiyong turned numb to everything around him, just waiting, praying, internally begging Hyorin to say that you were fine.

Hyorin took some time checking up on you. She slowly stood up straight and turned around. She decided to address Hanbin.

“Hanbin, she’s got a fever of 103. It might progress into a heat stroke if it doesn’t go down by tomorrow. Someone will have to stay with her all night and try and bring her body temperature down.”

Hanbin jumped up, nodding tensely.

“I’ll do it.”

He was just about to walk over to you when suddenly he swayed and fell to the ground, world around him spinning. Jongin pulled him up, sighing.

“Hanbin, you haven’t slept or eaten in a while. You can’t stay up looking after her in this condition.”

Hanbin wanted to protest, but he didn’t have the energy to. Hyorin nodded at Jongin.

“He’s right Hanbin. Go home and rest for a while.”

For the first time in a while, Jiyong spoke. His voice was weak when he opened his mouth to say,

“I’ll stay with her.”

Everyone turned to stare at him, each assessing him in their own way. Hanbin was about to scoff at him, but Jongin gripped his arm, silently shaking his head. Youngbae tried to smooth things over.

“Okay, guys, then we’ll all get going? Jongin, you’ll need a room, right? Here, come with me. There’s a spare-”

Hanbin cut Youngbae off, glaring at him no matter how weak he was.

“Hyung, I know you’re basically just going to keep Jongin prisoner if you take him with you. No way. He helped us escape. He’s a friend. He’s coming with me. He can stay with me.”

After they all left, Jiyong went and got a bowl of cold water. He soaked a cloth in it and folded it neatly, putting it on your forehead, gently brushing your hair back. He stared at you, flushed and asleep, desperately trying to convey how sorry he was. He wanted to just hold you in his arms, but you needed your body temperature to go down. He went and got out a light slip from your cupboard, gently holding you up with one hand and changed you out of the uncomfortable clothes you were wearing. He sighed when he saw the knife strapped to your thigh and he gently slipped it off, folding it away, his eyes pained because he hated that you had to use it. He stroked your hair, leaning down and burying his face in it. His body slowly started to shake with sobs. Your hair became damp.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I am so so sorry. You don’t deserve this. I allowed this to happen. I should have kept my promise. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He mumbled this into your hair, sobs getting harsher by the word. He got up, replaced the cloth and sat back down, eyes still red. Hands weak, he held your hand and took your pinky finger. He knew how important pinky promises were to you. He wrapped his own pinky finger around it and said,

“Y/N, I promise I will keep you safe. Never again.”

He leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“I love you. I always will.”

Joonmyeon was holding Jiyong at knifepoint. You were in a cold sweat. You knew Joonmyeon would kill him without any hesitation, but you had to do something. You rushed forward to try and pull Jiyong away when Joonmyeon pulled the knife. You could just see the start of the blood when you opened your eyes, panting. It was a dream. Thank god. Everything was still hazy. You weren’t thinking straight and you head hurt, but most of all, you were scared because of what you dreamt. Forgetting everything that Jiyong had said and done, you just wanted him to be safe. You turned to your left, surprised to find Jiyong sitting there, dozing off, hand still holding yours. You smiled and kissed his hand.

“I love you Jiyong.”

You wanted to kiss him, but you were too tired, and you fell asleep again.

Jiyong looked up wearily when he heard Hanbin and Jongin enter the next morning. He was exhausted. He hadn’t slept properly in days and he was stressed, but he wouldn’t sleep until you were fine. He cracked a half-hearted smile at them.

“Her fever’s gone down. She’s better now.”

Hanbin ignored him, simply going and sitting next to you to check on you himself. Jongin nodded at Jiyong, feeling bad for him. Hanbin slowly ran his fingers through your hair, watching you carefully. You started tossing around, Jiyong instantly getting more attentive to you, worried. You started trembling, crying in your sleep. Jiyong looked shocked beyond measure. His eyebrows shot up. Why were you crying in your sleep? He got out his phone to call Hyorin, terrified that something had happened to you, when Hanbin just glared at him and made him put his phone away.

“Hyung, how do you not know that Y/N gets nightmares?”

He scoffed and turned towards you, gently pulling you closer and hugging you, patting your back to calm you down. Jiyong looked shocked.

“Why does she have nightmares?”

Hanbin looked at him like he was dumb.

“Hyung, we abducted her. We tortured her. Joongi nearly raped her. You shot her. And then, to top it all off, she killed someone yesterday. Why wouldn’t she have nightmares?”

Jiyong went numb. How did he not know these things about you? Hanbin glared at him and muttered,

“You would have realised had you spent more time with her.”

Jiyong’s head fell. God, he barely spent any time with you, and now, he didn’t know how much time he had left with you. You deserved better than him. So much better than him. But he was selfish. He wanted to keep you by his side. He wanted to be with you. Always. Looking at your pale face flinching in your sleep, he realised that maybe he shouldn’t have been that selfish. You needed a safer, better life.

You blinked a little when you woke up a few hours later, trying to get used to the harsh light. You slowly adjusted and looked around at the people sitting there with you. You saw Hanbin holding your hand and Jongin standing around there, but you didn’t see Jiyong. Your heart fell. You looked around again, still not able to see him. You were about to give up when you heard his voice, softly saying,

“Don’t move around too much, my love. You’re still a little weak.”

You looked up. You realised that what you thought was your pillow was his lap. He was looking down at you lovingly, hands gently detangling your hair. You took one last moment to memorise everything about him. his beautiful eyes, his adorable smile, that damn tattoo and his soft hair. You took a deep breath and you got up, moving away from him. The way his face fell broke your heart, but it still didn’t hurt as much as you having to make the decision of moving away from him when you wanted nothing more to be there with him, in his arms. Hanbin and Jongin immediately jumped up, wanting to check if you were okay, but one look at your face and they knew to stay where they were. You cleared your throat. Your voice was weak when you spoke.

“Jiyong, I need this to end. I can’t live like this anymore. I need to get away from all of this. From you. I can’t live being treated as a tradable good between the two gangs. I don’t want to be your excuse to fight anymore. I never asked for this and it’s not fair that I have to be punished for it. I just want life to go back to normal.”

You paused, hating yourself for making him, the infamous Kwon Jiyong, look like a kicked puppy. You hated it. You wanted him to stop you. You wanted him to say something asking you to stay. You didn’t want to leave him. You just wanted to stop being treated the way you were. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you needed him too. But your heart broke even more when you saw him nodding along to what you were saying, not trying to stop you, although you could see in his eyes that he wanted to. You continued.

“I can’t stay here anymore, but I’m not stupid. I’ll go back to my normal life when things go back to normal.”

You turned to Hanbin.

“Hanbin, can I stay with you for now?”

Hanbin looked between you and Jiyong, not knowing whether this would help you or just make things worse. He finally decided to just give in to you.

“Of course Y/N.”

46 notes · View notes

tangodancer91 · 7 years ago

Text

The Woman [Part 2/2]

TITLE: The Woman

AUTHOR: tangodancer91

PAIRING: Tony Stark/James “Bucky” Barnes

RATING: T

WARNINGS: World War II, Mentions of Antisemitism, Mentions of Genocide, Past Child Abuse, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Brainwashing, Torture, Female!Tony Stark

SUMMARY:

After James' departure for war, Antonia found herself on her own path of violence and deceit. She thought she'd never see him again. Turned out, fate had a funny way to deal her cards.

A/N: Part Two of We’ll Meet Again (Some Sunny Day)

AO3: Arsenal | The Woman

It became a habit, to come find Agent Galante after a day of work. She made a surprisingly good partner, changing her voice, accent and manners depending on the character she was impersonating. Steve liked to think she would have made a fantastic actress, but her laugh when he’d mentioned it had been so bitter he’d never breached the topic again, especially when it had seemed to send her spiraling into a terrible mood for the rest of the day. He’d tried to make amends by inviting her to lunch, although he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for.

But when, that evening, she scooted over enough for him to sit with her on the wooden crate of the day, he figured he’d been forgiven. He thought he saw the faintest dusting of pink on her cheeks, but he couldn’t have sworn it in the darkness. She was a dame of few words, he’d realized early on, and when she did speak, it was to toss around increasingly half-hearted barbs, so he thought he might as well talk for two. He certainly had material.

“Why are you always talking about him?” She asked one day. Steve’s head shot up, torn from his memories.

“Why do you never?”

She stared at the bottom of her cup silently, swishing around what little coffee remained. “What do you want from me, Rogers?”

“It’s Steve,” he said for what felt like the thousandth time. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“You’ve been talking about James non-stop.”

“He’s my best friend and your fella, isn’t he?”

She stiffened at that, but didn’t say anything. Steve couldn’t see her face very well from where he was, but what little he could see had his insides going cold.

“Isn’t he?” He repeated. Toni closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. He watched her intently, waiting for a hint, but the director was waving at him from a couple feet away, the screenwriter and producer standing beside him, and he stood.

He was a fair distance away when she replied, but he heard it nonetheless.

“I don’t know.”

August 1943

The shrill ringing of the phone slowly dragged Steve from his sleep. He made to roll over groaning, only to find himself stuck in place by an unexpected obstacle. There was a rustling of sheets, then the ringing stopped as a soft, sleep-slurred voice murmured something in the quiet of the room. Steve dimly thought there was something wrong with this scenario, but his mind was far too fuzzy to put a name to it right away.

The voice was talking quietly again, something about information and Europe. It was a soft, feminine tone, still raspy. Steve straightened a little in his chair. Why was he in a chair? For that matter why was there someone else in his...room?

His eyes flew open, darting from side to side as he took in his surroundings. This wasn’t his room. In fact, he was pretty sure it was Toni’s. What was he doing here?

He glanced down at himself, relieved to find that he was still fully clothed, and in one of the comfortable armchairs Toni’s room was populated with. A glance at the bed had him blushing. Toni was propped up against her pillows, the strap of her nightgown slipping down her shoulder to reveal an expanse of tan skin, her hair a mess of cascading curls and her eyes still dazed with leftover sleep. She was absolutely gorgeous, that single bare shoulder curving into a delicate arm pressed against the side of her chest, emphasizing the valley between her breasts, their curve barely visible above the nightgown. Steve snapped his eyes back up.

She wasn’t paying attention, fortunately, but Steve still felt horrible for looking at her like that without her consent. She was a swell dame, he’d had enough time in her company to realize that. Whatever had happened that day at the apartment, she hadn’t done it to hurt Bucky. She wasn’t that kind of person. Why, otherwise, would she have helped him rehearse yesterday until literally falling asleep on the spot?

His cheeks flushed hot when he remembered taking off the bathrobe she’d been wrapped in to tuck her into bed. She’d been so light in his arms, far too much, maybe. The nightgown was outrageously short, and her skin had been smooth under his palms as he arranged her legs under the covers. He raised a hand to his cheeks. Yesterday, it had felt like his face was lighting up the entire room and he would remain stuck like that. It felt the same now.

But Toni wasn’t looking. She was frowning at her lap, attention visibly focused on the phone and what the person on the other end was saying. Finally, she nodded and, with a clipped “Understood,” hung up the phone.

There was a short moment of silence during which she just sat there, staring at nothing in particular, then she seemed to physically shake herself out of it. She turned to him, her face the picture of seriousness.

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked tentatively.

“I have to go.”

Steve’s heart stuttered to a halt.

“Go? What do you mean?”

She slid off the bed. This time, though, Steve’s eyes remained glued to her face, ignoring the smooth expanse of skin as she padded over to the suitcase abandoned by the closet. She crouched, fishing out some clothes.

“I’m being...dispatched.”

“Where to?” But the question never made it past his lips and he could only watch the bathroom door close behind her, the click of the lock falling into place the most final sound he’d ever heard.

It took her a short twenty minutes to pack. Steve stayed seated, trying to get over his shock, watching her in dumb astonishment. He’d wished this day would come, that he’d be rid of her and able to live his life without her eyes watching his every move. But that had been before, when they hadn’t known each other, spent countless nights going over scripts and just talking about nothing and everything, more often than not with a glass of something in hand. He’d never thought, after they’d become friends, that she might leave one day like Bucky had left.

The trip to the station was silent.

“Let’s get breakfast before you go,” Steve blurted as they neared the gate. “The trip will be long and you need—”

“No, Steve,” she said, and for all that he was towering over her, in that instant, Steve felt very, very small. Her eyes were soft as she looked up at him, craning her neck as she always did (“you’re much too tall for a human being, Rogers, I think I preferred you as a shrimp”), a stray lock of hair dangling over her forehead and into her eyes. She blew it out of the way, shook her head for good measure when it didn’t move as she wanted.

She was beautiful. So beautiful, inside and outside, and he wanted to draw her close, hold her tight and beg her to stay with him, wanted to drag his fingers through her hair and cup the back of her head in his palm. He wanted to feel the warmth of her body against his, her curves fitting against his harder planes, and to murmur sweet nothings in her ear.

His fingers ached to caress her cheek, the soft skin of her face, to hold her hand. But her head jerked suddenly, short and quick, yet enough for him to snap back to reality. He snapped his hand back, curling it into a fist.

“Do you really need to go?” He asked instead, voice sounding small to his own ears.

Something flickered in the depths of her hazel eyes, so fast he barely saw it. But she blinked and it was gone, hidden away with the infinite layers of her secrets.

“They need me,” was all she said, but it was enough.

Bitterness surged through his entire being.

“Even you are being dispatched before me.”

Her smile was entirely too understanding, with an undertone of something knowing that made his hackles rise. He hated the thought that Bucky had gone to war, that Toni was going too, and that now that he, too, had the health and physical constitution necessary to fight, he was stranded here playing dancing monkey instead of contributing to the war like he’d striven to for years. It was so unfair, and there was nothing he could do about it, but watch the handful of people he cared about leave one after the other.

“The time will come, Steve. It may not be today, or tomorrow, or the day after that, but it will come.” She moved closer to him, her suitcase hitting the ground with a dull thud. The lacy black glove felt warm against his cheek, and he leaned into the touch, eyes slipping shut for a split second. “Your time will come.” She grinned, punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t give up, soldier. It’s unbecoming of your patriotic spirit.”

He snorted in spite of himself. She’d poked fun at his nickname from the start, aiming for where it hurt with deadly accuracy, but he’d always known she didn’t mean anything by it. Rather, now he could see it for what it was: a distraction. And it worked. Every single time.

“Will I see you again?”

The grin faded into a parody of a smile, jaded and bitter and infinitely cold.

“One day,” she said with absolute certainty. “But you might not recognize me.”

Steve opened his mouth to ask, but the train whistled loudly at the same time. Toni stepped back, grabbed her suitcase and started walking away.

“Do me proud!” she called over her shoulder. “Be good to the kids!”

He chortled at the weird looks that got them. Although she wasn’t wearing her uniform, it did look like a twisted parody of the usual soldier departing for war scenario.

“Come back in one piece and we’ll see!” he hollered back right as she hopped aboard, the train’s massive frame rumbling as it started moving. Hanging precariously from the handle by the door, standing on one foot with the other dangling in the air, she twisted around and mock-saluted, a cheeky grin plastered to her face. The train jerked as it sped up, and she held on tighter, settling properly on the step. Behind her, a man touched the brim of his hat before pointing at her suitcase. She smiled, nodding, and then, with one last wave and a quick smile in Steve’s direction, vanished inside.

Long after the train had disappeared around the curving tracks, Steve thought of Toni’s touch, the warmth of her body through her glove, and that new gentleness in her eyes as she looked up to him, and he pondered over the bitterness in her smile when she’d said they’d meet again one day.

But then he remembered the certainty in her voice when she’d told him his turn would come, and he couldn’t help but believe her, waiting impatiently for the call that would change everything and finally dispatch him to the front.

“Are you trying to kill yourself or your teammates, Morrison? Hold that gun the right way before you shoot someone!”

“Sir, yes sir!”

James ran a hand down his face as the rookie went back to his exercise.

“You okay, Barnes?” A heavy-set man with a bowler hat and a thick red mustache asked, laughter barely concealed.

“Fuck you, Dugan.”

Jones, who’d been chortling quietly to himself, gasped exaggeratedly. “Language, Barnes! What would your girl think if she heard you?”

James’ lips quirked up at the thought.

“Follow suit, probably.”

The smile slid off his face as he remembered Antonia’s heartbroken eyes as she backed away from him, the dull thud of her elbow hitting the doorframe, the shaking in her hands as she grabbed her things. His last glimpse of her had been of tear-filled eyes and dark hair whipping out the door. When he’d shaken himself out of his shock and rushed after her, she’d already been gone. And there had been no time to try her apartment before his train was scheduled to leave.

He’d sent her a letter, once. Then another. She’d never replied. He didn’t even know if she’d received them, but surely she would have, unless she’d moved. He’d tried Steve, too, and never gotten an answer either. He’d expected his friend to move out and into a smaller, cheaper apartment after his departure, but he’d thought he would write him his new address so they could stay in contact.

Instead, there’d only been silence, and sometimes, lying on his cot in the darkest of the night, James thought of what could have happened to them. A sudden asthma attack leaving Steve dead on the sidewalk. Some freak accident reducing Antonia’s soulful hazel eyes to glazed shards of tainted glass. Those scenes had seeped into his dreams sometimes, and he found himself waking up breathless and shivering more than once, like he imagined Steve did on occasion—although it was probably worse for him, until he could only long for Antonia’s warm tones, her dry wit and gentle touch. So soft and yet hard at the same time. Sharp edges, protecting a brittle interior.

“Hey, Barnes.” A hand on his shoulder snapped him back to the present, and Dugan’s concerned face hovering in front of him. “You okay?”

James blinked slowly. “Fine.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’m good.”

“You sure?” Jones piped up from his spot some mere feet away. “You look like someone died.”

James felt the blood drain from his face, Antonia’s lifeless eyes flashing in his mind. Dum-Dum growled, snapped something at Jones, but he didn’t even hear it.

“Barnes?” God, he was so… there was no word for it. Weak, maybe. “You sure you’re okay?” Dugan’s hand on his shoulder got heavier as he asked, too heavy. The only touch he wanted at the moment was Antonia’s, a mere caress of her fingers against his arm, the soft brushing on her hair against his chin as he embraced her. He missed her fiercely, with an intensity that made his heart ache. How could he yearn for her like that when they’d known each other for so little time?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. It was what it was, what they had, and he wouldn’t try to put a label on it, just like he wouldn’t put one on Antonia. Sweet, wild Antonia, who cared in spite of everything and had gone out of her way to cheer up a perfect stranger standing motionless on the street.

So he stepped away from Dum-Dum, straightened his back and lifted his chin. Whatever it was that had made Antonia run like she had, he would live to find out. They would meet again for sure, if only once the war was over, and then they would talk.

“Dammit, Morrison!”

Neither Jones nor Dum-Dum stepped away. They weren’t friends per se, but they were significantly closer to each other than to any of the others in the 107th, and James had to admit he was relieved for it. Going off to war had never been his choice and his friendship with Steve, combined with the need to make enough money to keep a roof over their heads and put food in their mouths, had ensured that he didn’t have that much time for socializing. Until Antonia had barged her way into his life, his only friend had been Steve. He wasn’t even sure Antonia counted as a friend. There was an attraction there, as irresistible as gravity itself, but that didn’t make them friends. Gosh, they barely knew each other.

But that could change.

That would change.

And as he watched the recruits fire once more, Morrison’s bullet for once hitting the actual wooden target instead of a nearby tree, the first words of yet another letter started unfolding on paper in his head.

Dear Antonia,

I am currently watching trainees miss targets. It would be entertaining were I not aware of the fate that awaits them should they fail to improve. This war has already made so many victims, I want to make sure the people under my responsibility have the best chances of going back home alive, if not in one piece.

Yes, I am now a trainer. It happened quite suddenly, and now occupies most of my free time when I am not on the front myself. They are so young, Antonia. Younger than myself, than you even. I wonder how many volunteered and how many were drafted like me. That question has been on the tip of my tongue ever since I met them, but you are the only one I know it is safe to talk to about it, so I will hold my peace and watch them instead. Trying, like you would, to deduce from their behavior whether they are here of their own free will or not. The kind of small clues you would pick up on so easily with those clever eyes of yours, like you noticed me standing on the sidewalk that day.

It has been several weeks since we were last deployed, and the men are growing antsy. I think another assignment will come soon, although where to I have no clue. But there has been talk around camp of an enormous tank decimating our troops. The higher-ups will of course not address this rumor, but the men need something to do, and I am no exception to the rule. By the time you read this letter—if you do indeed receive it, I will probably be gone already, so do not be alarmed if you write back and there is no quick reply.

I hope you are well and to see you again soon,

All my love,

James

October 1943

It wasn’t the guards’ shouts that woke him up, for once. Rather, Jones dug his elbow into his ribs, Dugan’s gruff tones rumbling encouragements in his ear. Hands clasped on his shoulders, his arms, helping him up. The hall was big, vast enough that the guards didn’t notice when the other prisoners hid him behind a particularly huge piece of machinery and picked up his share of the work. He’d tried, at first. To work, to ignore the pain and the increasing demands of his agonized body.

He’d stood up for a prisoner they were going to execute and gotten beaten into unconsciousness for it. That hadn’t stopped them from making him work with the others, though, no special treatment for anyone, and especially the idiot who thought it’d be smart to get in their faces and resist. In the end, the sheer exhaustion he’d already been suffering from, combined with his wounds and the hard labor they set the captives to do didn’t help any, and he was utterly incapable of doing anything on his own. Sometimes, he thought that if they didn’t kill him, then shame certainly would.

Yet he could hardly feel it anymore. The burn in his cheeks and ears had faded into all-encompassing cold and wracking shivers, his teeth chattering despite Dugan and Jones’ best attempts to warm him up. They had been stripped of most of their belongings upon capture, only left with their rough, long-sleeved undershirts and pants. It was a miracle they hadn’t taken their shoes, but then again, maybe they were smart enough to realize having the workers cut their feet open on tools and stray parts wasn’t that beneficial to whatever they wanted done.

The day was over, it seemed. The guards were leaving their positions, batons banging against metal pillars and steel tables in a hellish cacophony as they started rounding up the men. Loud, accented voices yelled at them to aufstehen, aufstehen, hoch mit dir!—get up, get up, on your feet!

“C’mon, Barnes,” Dugan grunted behind him. “Hey you, give me a hand.”

James did his best to help, he really did. He gathered his feet under him, but moving felt like hell, his body sluggish and awkward and so tired. Everything hurt. Was that how Steve felt all the time? Small and weak and helpless? Constantly forced to rely on James to look after him and protect him even though his spirit was still going strong? A soul too big for his body. How unfair was it when your body started failing you so thoroughly that even your mind slowly followed it into nothingness?

As they walked back to the cells, James sandwiched tightly between Dugan and Jones so he would keep up the charade of walking on his own, he palmed his chest, where the picture was safely hidden. His knees collapsed under him as soon as the cell door slammed shut, but he didn’t care, barely felt Dugan catching him at the last second before his face ate concrete.

The picture slipped from his fingers when he finally managed to extract it from the tiny pocket sewn on the inside of his undershirt. He’d made it himself especially for it, so he wouldn’t ever lose it. He struggled to grab it again, palming the ground around him blindly, ignoring the disgruntled mutters of his neighbors as he hit flesh and bone instead. Then, finally, it appeared right in front of his face, held by a guy he’d seen around before. French, if the accent was anything to go by.

“Here,” the man said, slipping the small frame into his palm and closing his fingers around it.

James blinked sluggishly at him, a low noise of gratefulness slipping through his lips. He turned to the picture. They were staring at each other, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of Antonia’s lips, her eyes alit with life and warmth. He was looking right back at her, mouth stretched into the most smitten smile he’d ever seen in his life, cap tilted on his head. He could still remember the cacophony of people laughing around them, screaming on the rides. The gasps when Antonia had proven just how adept a shooter she was. Her laughter when he’d tripped on his own feet, too entranced by the way her hair fluttered in the breeze to watch where he was going.

“Is that your dame?”

The Frenchman had moved closer to their tiny group, unfazed by Jones’ and Dugan’s sharp gazes. “What’s her name?”

It was an effort to speak. “An-Antonia.” Her name rolled off his tongue so easily it hurt, and he blinked back the sting of tears. Dugan and Jones looked interested, so he turned the picture their way so they could see.

“Beautiful lass,” Jones commented. “Don’t know what she sees in you.”

“Eyes like that, though, you better come back to her,” Dugan said. “Don’t wanna make her cry.”

James closed his eyes, remembering hers when he’d last seen her. The sheer agony in the depths of hazel, the heartbreak. Remembered how small she’d felt, huddled in his arms at the Stark Exposition.

“She’d probably...resurrect me to kill me all over again.”

The Frenchman huffed a laugh. “A spitfire, huh?”

He didn’t fight the dopey grin on his face. “Yeah…” A beat. “She said...If they shoot, fire back. If they charge…”

Her voice joined his in his memories, soft and low and fierce. Determined.

...snipe them. If they catch you, survive and escape. If you die…walk it off.

“I’ll go back,” he breathed in the silence that followed. “I’ll be back. We’ll go dancing. It’ll be nice.”

He was carted off to the isolation clinic the next day.

“Welcome, Fräulein Galante.”

It took all of her extensive experience with the media to contain the shudder that slithered down Toni's spine when his lips brushed over the back of her hand, gloved as it was. Zola’s greeting was almost comical in comparison, his short stature barely making him bend as he grabbed her hand in turn.

“Doctor Zola, Herr Schmidt,” Toni replied, careful to keep her face neutral in the face of the man who’d almost succeeded in bombing dozens of American cities before a brave, foolish man put a stop to it by sacrificing his life and losing everything he ever held dear. She wiped her hand on her clothes when he released it, disguising it as an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles from the long journey from Berlin. It didn’t help in the slightest: even after months of wearing it, the dark fabric still made her skin crawl.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” the man said, leading the way into the base. “We were starting to wonder if General Müller was perhaps trying to kidnap you.”

She curled up her lip into a sneer. “Believe me, Herr Schmidt, there is no way I would let myself be kidnapped by this…man.”

He laughed, high and grating, and she gritted her teeth together at the sound. “I cannot say I do not understand his desire, Fräulein. The uniform does look very fetching on you indeed.”

“Well, it had the merit of helping me gather some interesting information, at the very least,” she conceded.

“Precious information indeed,” Zola stated, nervously pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he trotted along. “It has been increasingly tedious to keep an informant within the Schutzstaffel since Herr Schmidt ordered the secession from the Nazi party.”

“Is that so?” Toni already knew that, of course. While they hadn’t bothered informing her—this assignment, she was pretty sure, had been a way to test her loyalty and usefulness, Toni had quickly heard about the executions seamlessly carried out among personnel close to Nazi dignitaries. Treason, most often. Sometimes thievery. Spying. All in all, these people were caught doing things or handling things they had no business having, and that had led to their slow and painful demise.

Hitler might have been powerless to stop Schmidt from defecting, but that didn’t mean he would let himself be threatened from the inside as well as the outside. And wouldn’t try to make him pay either.

Up until her arrival in Berlin, HYDRA had been utterly blind regarding the Reich’s movements.

“Darling, that’s not how you do it.”

Dugan jumped, cursing loudly as he dropped the file he’d been using to sabotage the tank on his toes. The thing was damn heavy. The Frenchman, Dernier, Jones and a British man named Falsworth looked up in alarm, then around for any incoming guards. One was already headed towards them, but then, he stopped dead in his tracks and slowly backed away.

The woman blinked back at Dum-Dum, the quirked smile tugging at her lips belying her innocent expression. “Where the hell did she come from?” Falsworth spluttered. Honestly, Dum-Dum was wondering the same thing. She was tiny, trim waist enhanced by a tight belt, feet clad in sturdy combat boots and a cap cheekily perched on a mane of short, curly locks. Only then did he notice the uniform. Sea green. And on her breast, the dreaded double lightning bolt. The blood drained from his face.

He’d heard of them, the SS. A bunch of crazy radicals, Hitler’s personal bloodhounds. They were all fanatics, devoted to his cause, ready to sell their very soul for the Reich. No doubt he’d be dead in a minute, but he wouldn’t go whining like a dog. She was still watching him, silent and still, nothing like the friendly face from before. How quickly she’d traded expressions had to be a testament to her true nature. A snake, like the rest of them. Vicious and deadly. But he’d enlisted willingly, knowing how unlikely it was that he would come back. This waif of a woman might be different from the end he’d pictured in his head, but that didn’t mean he would cower.

So Dugan raised his chin, squared his jaw and looked her straight in the eye, waiting for her to call the guards, for his inevitable execution.

The others had evidently come to the same conclusion, because the silence took on a whole new quality as they waited for her next move. She looked them all over one by one, slow and assessing, the smile long gone from her face. Then, she picked up the file between gloved fingers and put it aside.

“Now show me the blueprints.”

She waited expectantly, raised her eyebrows when no one moved. Finally, Jones snapped out of it and hesitantly handed her the blueprints.

“On the floor,” she demanded. Jones’ eyes were nothing short of wild as he obeyed, glancing around all the while, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She nodded, grabbed the bunch of papers and plopped down onto the ground.

Toni followed Zola into the lab, heart beating wildly in her chest at the thought of what she would find in there. She’d already obtained the blueprints to the monstrous tanks HYDRA had been decimating their enemies with, but she knew it was imperative that she find out what they were up to in the labs, on the scientific end of things. She was so close, she could feel it. All those months undercover with the SS and now she was finally being brought into the fold, trusted with sensitive information.

“As you may be aware, the Americans have successfully completed an experiment that granted them the considerable strength of a super-soldier. While they have not been smart enough to utilize this tremendous asset in battle, that is a mistake HYDRA is not willing to make. We have been working on replicating the serum for quite some time, and have made great progress with our latest specimen.”

Specimen. Toni felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Somehow, she doubted it was an animal. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of witnessing more horrors, more experiments, more torture. The SS didn’t have a scientific division since Schmidt’s defection, but most of their prisoners ended up tortured at some point or another. As General Müller’s assistant, she hadn’t been expected to watch such sessions, but it had occasionally happened when the General got impatient. The man had been a pervert in all senses of the term, reveling in the fear and agony of his victims, and he never shied away from “some hands-on work,” as he called it.

He also liked to “comfort her” afterwards, convinced that what she’d seen must have upset her womanly sensibilities. It had been the performance of her life to keep him hooked without having to go any further. But she had managed, and she would hopefully never have to go back.

The “lab” was a large, rectangular concrete room. Lab equipment was scattered around, some connecting to the dissection table in the center where a man was strapped. Toni followed Zola as he went around the room, explaining what the equipment was. She forced herself to smile and nod in wide-eyed wonder, even though she had known what everything was within the second she’d stepped into the room. While HYDRA knew she was smart, they had no idea what exactly she was capable of. She’d told no one about her engineering capabilities in this time. Their visit at the Expo had been a dead giveaway for James, certainly, but no one else had been made aware and she intended to keep it that way.

There was no telling what HYDRA would have her do if they learned of her skill, or even the American government. Being somehow coerced into working side by side with Howard Stark until the end of the war was not her idea of a fun time. She’d had enough of that during her childhood.

“We’re ready for you, Doctor.”

“Ach, excellent,” Zola said, rubbing his hands together. “This dose is extremely promising,” he added for her benefit. “If you would stand right here, you might witness the success of months of research.”

“Is that so?” Toni asked politely.

“Yes, yes indeed. We thought this specimen would die, they usually only bring us the battered ones, but this one has proven exceptionally resistant to the effects of the serum.”

“Battered, you say?”

The man hummed distractedly as he put on a surgical robe. “Prisoners. We have so many of them, but Herr Schmidt will only let me use the ones that cannot work for my experiments. The healthy ones are required to work in the factory, you see. Now if you would please wait for me here.”

She nodded and stepped back, trying to look interested as she watched the short man approach the table. When she allowed herself to look at the man, her blood turned to ice.

James.

Strapped down to the table like an animal, lips mouthing something over and over that she could barely hear through the sudden ringing in her ears. The world faded around her, spinning into nothingness, leaving her heart stuck in her throat. Something was drilling through her chest, pressing on her gut. Her skin tingled, every single hair on her body standing erect. She choked silently. She felt like she was back in Afghanistan, where the nights were bone-chilling and the water invaded her lungs and nose and mouth in icy, burning waves.

His skin was tinged green by the sickly light filtering through the rectangular windows of the room. Even without that, she could see how hollow his cheeks were, how dim his hair was, and greasy. His hands were shaking in spite of the restraints, the leather taut and chafing at his skin. Toni jerked forward when the scientists gathered around him and cut off her line of vision.

Get away from him!

She could grab him. She could kill them all, they wouldn’t even realize she’d turned before they were dead. There were only five of them. She could do it. She would deal with them, grab James, get him out. Save him.

Then what?

The security around the base was tight. She could work her way around it if she was alone, but James was hurt and weakened from days, probably weeks of starvation and beatings. He would slow her down. Even if he didn’t, she wasn’t yet familiar enough with guard rotations and the general layout of the perimeter to get out undetected. Oh, how she wished for her tech, in that instant when Zola approached James with a disproportionate syringe full of a burning orange liquid! She hadn’t missed it that much ever since her impromptu landing in the past, but now, now she could only wish for a suit that was so far ahead of this time it made her want to cry.

The truth was that there was nothing she could do. If she blew her cover now and got caught, then James would be done for, and so would her mission. The OSS would never get all the intelligence she had amassed over the past few months. All of her work, all the lives she had been forced to watch be extinguished would be for naught.

She had to live, and trust that James would survive as well. He had, after all, been second in command of the Howling Commandos. She had just reached that conclusion when the needle pierced his skin. Two seconds went by. Five.

Ten.

A terrible scream ripped through the scientists’ chatter. Toni jumped, her entire body lurching forward and then back as she fought with all her might not to knock them all out of the way and protect James no matter the consequences. He thrashed, his head snapping left and right and back against the metal, so hard she thought he would brain himself until they strapped his forehead as well so he could barely move.

The metal rattled under the sheer strength of his convulsions. Toni flinched violently when the inarticulate screams turned into words, mutilated as they were, even as James forced his shredded vocal cords to form the syllables in a constant staccato of letters and numbers, always the same, always in the same order.

“Sergeant…James…Buchanan…Barnes…32557038.”

A technique to resist torture, she knew. Every soldier was taught to use it, and she’d been friends with Rhodey since MIT. Although he’d never had to use it that she knew of, she’d resorted to it early on during her captivity in Afghanistan. Vocalizing it wasn’t the important part, although it helped to hear yourself say it.

But repeating it silently to herself, over and over again as her lungs burned for air and her entire body shook with the electricity snapping through the exposed wires of the battery in her chest had grounded her. Like a lullaby, something solid and known. Her name. Not the one they all knew her by, the one her persona wore like a glove, no. Rather, the one she called herself in the dark of night, the one Jarvis had used to call her.

Antonia.

She’d only had her name to recite. The long list of titles she would snap to the face of anyone who would dare defy her meant nothing to the real her, to Antonia. Mia stella, Bella Micia, Tesoro Mio, Antonia Mia, Amore della Mamma, Antonia.

Her fingers twitched in remembered agony, hands keeping her down even as she'd thrashed against the invasion of her chest, the maddening pain of a saw cutting through her bones, of human hands rummaging around her chest in a way they had no business doing. The helplessness, the sheer terror, magnified by the ignorance of what was going on, the vertigo of her body screaming that something was wrong, rebelling, and yet leaving her weaker than a kitten.

There had been no one to help her then. She’d had to rescue herself, the same way she’d had to get herself out of every kidnapping since she’d been old enough to understand what was going on.

In that other past where she hadn’t been part of the picture, James had had no one to come for him either, until Rogers had burst his way into the compound. This time, however, she was here. And maybe she couldn’t get him out right away. Maybe she couldn’t barge in, subdue the scientists, take the guards down and lead James to freedom.

But she could damn well make sure Rogers got the information he needed to successfully do so.

Falsworth gritted his teeth as the baton came down once more. He curled a little tighter, hands clutching protectively at his head. His entire body hurt. Barnes had been taken after something like this, too. They’d beaten him to an inch of death, and when he’d failed to prove efficient after that—as if anyone could recover from that kind of damage in a couple hours, they’d taken him to the isolation clinic and they’d never seen him again. He knew this was probably what awaited him as well, but it was well worth it in his opinion.

“Genau!”

The word sliced through the air like a knife through butter. The blow never came. Falsworth tentatively peeked above his arms, only to start at the sight. The woman was standing over him, her body between him and the guard, so that he’d have to hit her if he ignored the order.

The guard hesitated, spat out a sentence in German. She retorted instantly, her words short and clipped. Angry, almost. Although why she would be, he had no idea. Going by Dugan, Dernier and Jones’ expressions, so did they. Whatever she said, though, the guard left soon after, walking stiffly away even as she waved mockingly at his back.

She turned around, glancing at the men sitting there, then turned back to Falsworth. Her tongue clicked in displeasure.

“Come on,” she said, slipping one hand under his elbow to help him sit on a wooden crate. “Sabotaging is all well and good, but you need to be subtle about it. Otherwise, this” she gestured at him “is what happens.”

Cool fingers pressed against his jaw, forcing him to turn his head this way and that as she examined him, hazel eyes flickering from side to side before she started prodding at his head.

“Stop squirming,” she growled as he tried to avoid the contact. “Concussions are no fun. You might have gotten lucky today, but you can’t expect me to be around every time. If you keep doing it, you’ll lose your life.”

He jerked his head out of her grip.

“I’d rather die trying to protect my country,” he enunciated slowly, clearly, looking her in the eye, “than live my life as a traitor.”

Her hands slipped down his face as if all strength had suddenly left them. She kept silent as she quickly checked him over for broken bones, her touch just as gentle as it had been before his jab. Then, she stood and left.

They kept him in a cage. Toni felt her insides twist in fury as she stepped up to it. James was sprawled in an uncomfortable position on the ground, shivering from the cold. Dead to the world. His teeth were chattering so loudly she could hear them from outside the cage. Glancing around, she pulled at the lock and ducked inside. He didn’t react when she knelt down beside him and rolled him onto his back, his skin moist with fever and pain. His features were twisted in agony, eyes rolling behind his eyelids.

Grabbing the small canteen of water she’d brought with her, she slipped a hand under his head and propped it up in the crook of her elbow before pouring a small stream of water between his lips. Some of it dribbled down his chin, but he swallowed, so she continued until he refused the water. Screwing the canteen shut, she ran her fingers through his hair, squeezing gently when he leaned into the touch.

“You’ll be fine,” she whispered. “Don’t let me down, James. You swore.”

She remained by his side as long as she dared. It was late in the night, and while she had access to the entire building, she really had no business being here, comforting the prisoner. She was SS. More than that, she was HYDRA. She wasn’t supposed to feel compassion for captives. So when her internal clock had calculated the passing of an hour, she gently laid James back to the ground and exited the cage.

Her fingers curled around the bars.

You’ll live through this, she silently vowed to him, to herself. You’ll live, and you’ll grow stronger.

New York NY Nov 1943

Colonel Philips

Salerno IT

Verified information 107th captive Kreischberg Austria weapons facility closest to you coordinates below consider raid

Colonel Aaron Bank

OSS

“What’s up with her?”

That was pretty much what the entire regiment was thinking, to be honest. The woman had come back every day since that first time she’d caught Dugan, and kept inserting herself into work stations, more often than not snatching tools and getting to work herself under the prisoners’ disbelieving eyes. The thing was, she was actually good at this. She was quick and efficient, and whatever she touched took shape in record time. Which, of course, was definitely not what they wanted. They had been trying to stall the production of war machines ever since they’d started working here, but here she came, with her ridiculous army pants and predatory smirk, and she destroyed everything they’d been trying so hard to do with a few quick gestures full of expertise.

And that was the thing, wasn’t it? She obviously knew what they’d been doing. She’d said so when she’d stopped Falsworth’s beating. Yet, she hadn’t reported any of them. No one had disappeared, no guards had swooped in with batons high and guns raised. Every single one of them was fine. And whenever the guards got a bit too zealous in disciplining the prisoners, she was always there, swooping in with a few barked orders to stop them.

She was protecting them.

Today, she was back with them. For some reason, she seemed to have taken a shine to their little group, which, again, didn’t make any sense given that she’d just caught them sabotaging her boss’ pet project and had barely spoken three words to them since then. Dum-Dum jerked as the screwdriver she’d been using clattered into the toolbox. The woman sat back on her heels, then turned and leaned against the pillar, only to sit back up as her eyes zeroed in on something.

Dum-Dum’s heart dropped like a stone. Before he’d been taken, Barnes had managed to sneak him the picture, the one with his girl,made him swear to keep it safe, that he’d be back for it. He’d promised, knowing in his head, in his heart, that he’d have to live so he could bring it back to her, or pass it on to someone else in case he croaked as well. It must have slipped from his pocket as he was working earlier. He hadn’t noticed.

And now she had.

He lurched forward. Quick as the snake that she was, she snatched it up before him. He made to throw himself at her, but one look at her face stopped him cold. She was smirking, smug and self-assured, confident that he wouldn’t do anything. Because what was the point? There were dozens, maybe hundreds of guards here, and it would be pointless to get himself killed for a picture, one that didn’t even belong to him. Yet, he could remember the look on Barnes’ face as he looked at the picture—every night without fail, the small smile on his face, the way the light would come back in his eyes when he gazed longingly at Antonia’s face.

Jones and Dernier held him back as he made for it again.

“Don’t!” came Falsworth’s warning hiss. They all knew what she was holding, what it meant to their lost companion. Barnes had been taken away a week ago and they hadn’t heard a peep from him since. Nothing. So they watched with bated breath as she inspected the small rectangular frame, turned it over.

And went very still. She stared down at the small picture for what seemed like an eternity. Try as they might, they couldn’t see her eyes to try and get a read of her expression as her head remained bowed over it.

Her features were utterly blank when she handed it back. Dum-Dum slipped the picture into his breast pocket and curled a protective hand over it, but she didn’t say anything. And if her hammering felt distinctly more aggressive than usual that afternoon, well. No one would be foolish enough to point that out.

But Dum-Dum knew he wasn’t the only one to have noticed.

The picture had shaken between her fingers.

#writing #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #fanfic recs #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #female tony stark #we'll meet again (some sunny day)#wma (ssd)

12 notes · View notes