H A I L H Y D R A || J. B. Barnes

t w e n t y - t h r e e

Becky spent a year in Bucharest. She had a small apartment with the bare essentials. It wasn't much but it worked.

The girl only slept once or twice a week. She tried hard enough during the day to shove the memories away. At night there was nothing she could do to get rid of them.

It felt like karma. All of the people she killed came back. Her life before Hydra flashed by, taunting her.

But it was better to remember them and grieve than remain in a state of nothingness, at the mercy of a cruel master.

Becky was at a fresh fruit stand. She conversed with the farmer in Romanian, picking out a couple plums and negotiating the price.

When the deal was made Beck smiled at the man and turned her head to look around. Paranoia was hard to get rid of.

She paid the farmer and took her plums, walking off down the street. Beck waited on the sidewalk while some cars passed. She heard sirens and saw an ambulance, she waited for it to pass too.

Her heart rate sped slightly when the ambulance sped past. Certain things made her jumpy. Becky looked across the road as a newspaper stand cashier was staring at her intently.

Becky had a bad feeling about that. She looked down the road once more and then looked back at the stand to see if the man was still staring at her.

He was.

The cashier backed up, fear in his eyes, and picked up a telephone. Becky crossed the street immediately after. She was careful and to anyone else, she was simply a pedestrian. Becky didn't know what this guy knew about her, who he might try and call.

Before she reached the stand the cashier ran off and down the street, terrified. That wasn't good.

Becky sped up her pace and pulled the newspaper he was reading toward herself. Her eyes widened as she read the headline and saw a familiar face.

"Winter Soldier Wanted For The Vienna Bombing."

The girl looked around tensely to see if anyone else had noticed her. She needed to get the hell out of Bucharest and go even further off the grid. With her face all over the paper, it wouldn't be wise to stick around.

As Becky hastily made her way back to her apartment, thoughts ran through her mind. How do they have that picture of me? I haven't left Romania in over a year? Someone framed me.

A small voice in the back of Beck's mind said that maybe she did do it. Maybe somebody made her do it and she didn't remember.

Becky ignored the voice and took the stairs back to her apartment three at a time. Her door was already cracked. Someone was inside. She paused outside for a moment, debating if she should just run right then. But she still needed her bag.

Silently, Becky walked in, prepared to attack. Her arm was ready as she peeked around the corner. She straightened up when she saw it was Steve. He hadn't noticed her yet, he was looking through her notebook on top of the fridge.

She wanted to grab it from him, it was one of her most important notebooks. It was the one about people she wanted to remember.