The Spark That Never Dies Part: One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Being on the run for years in New York City has made you an expert pick pocket when you had to be and instincts like that never disappear. You'd always just take the cash and throw out the rest of the wallet, not getting mixed up with credit card fraud because that could always get you traced. One time you picked the pocket of a girl who looked similar to you enough where you used her ID to get into places and be able to buy alcohol, but you were younger then.

So, after the nice stranger who almost hit you dropped you off at the police station, you ducked out of sight and into town. You took two wallets and a total of three hundred dollars between them to make your way to the Brooklyn Bridge.

People gave you dirty looks because of your tattered appearance which included your ripped tactical suit along with plenty of cuts, bruises, and dirt littering your body. Your hair was a mess, but you couldn't care enough to bother with it. Your mind was elsewhere, only focused on that goddamn bridge.

~Small Time Skip~

After taking several buses, two trains, and a subway, you finally walked the last few blocks to the bridge.

You found yourself in Brooklyn, under the bridge, finally.

You looked around frantically, desperately searching for any clues as to where, who, or what you were supposed to find that would trigger something in you, but you didn't.

Not until you turned to leave where an 'X' stood out to you on one of the bricks in a false wall underneath the pass way to keep it stable back in the sixties. It was useless now, but you felt like leaving without checking an 'X' that traditionally marks the spot, you felt like you might be a fan of the classics, would be wrong.

You carefully pulled the brick out and hesitantly stuck your hand inside, feeling around for anything you might've left there, before pulling out a piece of paper.

Crossed out was a Brooklyn address that felt familiar, but the one that was circled in red multiple times with arrows pointing at it, literally saying to go there, was a Manhattan address. You stuck it back inside, looking around to make sure nobody was watching you, and climbed back onto the road. You had little money left, this trip wasn't cheap especially with getting lost a few times, but you needed to get there if anything was going to help.

Not trusting your subway skills and with it being late at night now, around ten, you decided to use the rest of what you stole on a taxi.

~Small Time Skip~

You're tired, hungry, and confused, walking up to the Avengers Tower.

Why would the note give this address? It was pointless to even enter because you knew all the horrible things you've done for Hydra and how you're probably wanted by these people.

But something inside you pushed you forward.

Slowly stepping inside, aware of how many eyes were on you, made you instantly want to run right out, your fight or flight screaming flight. But then you spotted some free cucumber water and a couch, making you sigh in defeat.

The whole lobby went completely silent and people seemed to practically freeze on the spot by your sight, but you didn't care in that moment. You were pouring your fourth cup and putting your legs up on the couch. For some reason you felt safe enough to doze off right here and now, but your instincts encouraged you not to. You gave a weak, tired smile to anyone you made eye contact with and just waited for the inevitable arrest. The secretary was dialing a number, keeping her eyes on you the entire time, and you assumed she was calling security.

You weren't wrong.

"Y/n?" Your named came out of a well-dressed man and you tensed.

"Uh," You stood up the best you could, noticing there was some blood left behind where your leg was rested, "Sorry about the couch."