Chapter 6: Budapest

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HELLO LOVELIES!! I'm back! I'm really really really sorry for not updating in a full month. But here's the new chapter. There's a little bit of TWS's POV, and a little bit of Clintasha action, as well. :) I will try to update weekly, again. Hope you enjoy this!

love love

~A2V~

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The Winter Soldier sat up on his bunk. He was in his cell, again, and as per usual, the nightmares were haunting him. But were they nightmares? He did not know. All he remembered was he was falling off a train, a blond haired blue-eyed man screaming "Bucky", and he had no idea why that would pop up in his dreams. His name wasn't Bucky. Then, after, he was lying down on a cold stone floor, a woman with black wings, an angelic face and an even prettier voice telling him to calm down, "Hush, love," she told him in a soft tone, "it's almost over." Then he woke up. What was almost over? His life, his questions, his being? What was over? The pain? She had been haunting his dreams for the past two weeks, or was it months? He did not know anymore, all he did know was when he slept, he woke up to the memory of her voice.

He put his head in his hands and took deep breaths, trying to get a grip on his emotions. He was in a plain black shirt and loose gray sweatpants, the bed where he sat soaked with sweat. The Soldier closed his eyes, and all he saw was darkness. He tried to see the face again, tried to hear the voice again, but she was slipping away, his angel was getting fainter and fainter. He screamed and punched the wall beside his bed with his metal fist. The frustration was killing him, and all he wanted to do was crawl out of himself, leave everything behind or kill someone. Just then the door to his cell opened, and an armed guard walked in.

The Soldier lunged for him, immediately disarming the guard and lifting him by the neck. "Give me one reason not to kill you," The Soldier asked menacingly as he tightened his metal grip on the guard's throat.

"Put him down, Soldier," an extremely familiar voice commanded from the door.

He obeyed immediately. That voice meant business, and pain. The Soldier glared at the choking guard on the floor.

"Come with me," Pierce commanded again. The Soldier obeyed, following right behind the man in a blue suit, and was immediately surrounded by guards when he stepped out of his cell.

"We have a new assignment for you, son," Pierce informed him as they entered one of the many briefing rooms.

The soldier just looked at the screen where the face of a man was flashing.

"We need this done cleanly, no messes. No one must even link it to an assassination. Make it look like an accident, do you understand?" Pierce said as the screen turned dark.

The Soldier nodded an affirmative in response.

"You will be deployed to Tanahun in 48 hours." Pierce informed him.

The Soldier stood and walked to the door, he wanted to ask about the winged lady, but something stopped him. He just kept walking.

"This is Angel," Camilla Valentin answered her secure line; she was in Budapest, tracking down a certain red haired spy who had her target. Angel had been following the Black Widow through the bright, crowded streets of Budapest since she found out the Widow had her mission. Natasha was not alone, though. If she was walking alone through the streets of the city, it meant she had someone watching the target.

"Hello, Angel, you busy?" Rumlow's voice came from the other end, a sneer clear in his voice.

"Kind of," she answered as she slipped through an alleyway, her head lowered so the hood of her coat would not fall.

"How soon can you be ready for another assignment?" Rumlow asked.

"It's been three weeks and already you've lost him?" She whispered as she crossed a street.

"Does that even matter?" Rumlow huffed, "Give me a time frame, Angel."

Just then, Angel saw a familiar head of red hair disappear around a corner, "Give me 72 hours."

"Copy that," Rumlow answered and hung up.

Angel pocketed her phone and walked into a nearby ten-storey hotel. She pulled her hood down, exposing her long brown hair, and smiled sweetly at the guard and the man behind the front desk as she waited for an elevator. They let her pass without incident. She pushed the roof deck button and waited as the elevator climbed. She tried not to think about the Soldier, whatever he was in, she was sure he could handle it. But why was he lost again, and why was she worried? This was a job. No feelings could be involved. No humanity, she thought to herself.

As soon as she reached the roof deck, she took off her gray hooded coat, and willed her black wings out of her shoulders again. She stuffed the coat in her usual sling bag and hooked that in between her shoulder blades. She adjusted her white halter top and light blue denim jeans. She had to blend in with the sky, her wings were a giveaway already, but people see what they want to see, and they would think she was only a very large eagle flying over the city. She tightened the buckles of her brown moccasin boots, and began flapping her wings, steadily climbing until she was high enough.

Four hours later she landed on top of a dilapidated building, it was late now, and dusk was beginning to settle over the city. She had followed Romanov around the city, patiently gliding above the spy. Angel was sure Natasha had no idea who was following her, if she did, she would have looked up.

"Barton, we're clear," Angel heard the Widow say from inside the building.

Barton? Angel smiled as she walked quietly across the roof, trying to track the voices.

"Who followed you, Tasha?" a man asked, Angel knew that voice: it was the marksman. Her grin widened. This was going to be fun.

"I don't know, Clint," the Widow answered, "But it felt so familiar."

Clint? Angel thought, Tasha? She shook her head, this was going to be entertaining, then. The winged assassin heard muffled cries from the left side of the house.

"Is that him?" Romanov asked her partner.

"Yeah," Barton answered on an exasperated sigh, "I guess he's awake. He wouldn't shut up, I had to knock him out."

Angel heard Romanov chuckle and begin discussing the extraction details with the archer. Angel whistled lightly as she walked to where the muffled screams were coming from. When she was on top of the noise, she reached into her bag and pulled out a long chain necklace and a wrap around anklet. She wound the chain around her neck, and the anklet she snapped into a sword. Then she spread her wings again, climbed a few feet into the air and slammed into the roof feet first. It gave way under her weight and the velocity of her dive. She heard the two spies scramble to her location, but they would be too late. Angel saw her target and smiled at his panicked expression.

"Your accomplices need you dead, sir," she whispered and she slit his throat with her sword, his muffled panicked screams cut off abruptly.

Just then the two spies charged into the room. Angel turned to face them, wings unfurled, and she unlocked the chain around her neck, letting it form freely into a dagger-tipped whip as it fell to the floor.

"Valkyrie?" Natasha whispered as recognition dawned on her.

Angel smiled and then used the whip to knock the bow out of Barton's hands. She charged at them, slicing at Barton's arm and smiling in dark humor as she saw blood spurt from the wound. Then she used the whip to lash at Natasha, the blades slicing her cheek as she dodged it. Angel charged again, this time she pinned the Widow to the wall, her sword at the redhead's throat.

"You should have looked up, sister," Angel hissed as she slammed the woman into the wall, knocking her out and lashing her whip at Barton one last time to distract him as she flew out of the whole she made in the roof. She climbed fast, knowing full well Barton's skill with a bow and arrow. As soon as she had some cloud cover she flew east, to the place where her employer was supposed to pay her. There would be hell for those two spies after this. The only reason why they had gone uncontested was lying dead in a pool of his blood.

Entertaining indeed.

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