𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 » avengers x reader

66. We Are Hydra

Washington, D.C.

We drove until the early hours of the morning. I wanted to sleep because my body was so tired, bruised, and beaten, but my mind wouldn't let it. It was racing the entire 3 hours we were in the car.

It never escaped my mind that my parents were part of this crazy cult known as HYDRA. It made no sense but it almost made complete sense. The constant disappearing, the way they treated me, our different sentiments. It stung honestly. That must've been why they never went into detail about what they did.

But there was something oddly specific about the date of that newspaper article. December 17th, 1991. No, it wasn't that date. Maybe it was December 18th that same year? I couldn't remember because I was so young, I'd barely turned 4 years old but I know something happened that day. I just couldn't put a finger on it.

We arrived at our safe house at around sunrise. Natasha was up and we all walked over to the door. Since I suggested the place, I knocked. We waited less than 10 seconds before the door was answered.

"Hey, Sam," I greeted him. I didn't need a mirror to tell me I looked awful, Sam's face said it all.

"I'm sorry about this. But we need a place to lay low," Steve apologized.

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Natasha added.

Sam's eyes darted between the three of us, taking in everything we'd been through in the past 24 hours. "Not everyone," he said stepping inside and letting us in.

Steve went in to shower first while the rest of us waited in the kitchen. Sam was making breakfast for us to eat when we were all changed and fresh. I was in a mind of my own, the others seemed to notice.

Sam took a crate of eggs out and began cracking them into a bowl. He then turned and caught my eye, "Are you okay, Sarge?"

I chuckled sadly, "I don't think any of us are."

"Zola said something that affected you, didn't he?" Natasha guessed.

"Well of course. We work for HYDRA. Yippee! Yay us!" I celebrated sarcastically. I didn't even want to mention my parents. Not yet anyway.

"What are you cooking, Sam?" I asked, trying to divert the conversation.

"Eggs, bacon. Pancakes?" He threw out there, "I'm trying to make it Michelin star. I mean you guys are basically celebrities."

"Don't be an idiot, Wilson." I nudged him playfully, "All we've eaten in the last few days is a pack of gum, blood, and dust."

"All the reason to make it a five-star meal," he countered.

I giggled, "Sam I love you so much," I said as Steve returned from the shower with nothing but a white tank top, his broad shoulders bulging as he ran his hand through his wet hair.

I froze as he said, "You wanna go in next?" With my mouth open wide I couldn't speak. I just nodded, while Sam and Natasha laughed at me.

I got in and had a hot shower. Easing my bruised body and cleaning out my arm wound. It hurt like a bitch now that it had reopened, but it needed to be done. Once I was finished I dried off, patched my arm back up quickly, and raided Sam's closet. Since his sister sometimes came up from Louisiana she left a few clothes here.

I picked out a white vest, black jeans, and then a black leather jacket that I would put on once we left the house. I sat in the bedroom while we waited for Natasha to finish showering. I flopped onto Sam's bed drifting off into my own head again.

I heard a light knock on the door and I yelled for the person to come in. Surprise, surprise, it was Steve. He came and sat on the edge of the bed next to me, knowing I was upset.