Wouldn't Leave You (A Captain America Fan fiction)

Hard Drives and Borrowing

Chapter 29 - Rachel Stark

As the bright pink bubble snaps, I raise an eyebrow. Steve spins on his heel and grabs my arm so fast I can't process what's happening. He pushes me across the hall and through a doorway, causing me to shuffle backward in order to keep my balance. The anger in his eye flares as he pushes me against the wall, creating a pretty loud thud. 

"Where is it?" he says through gritted teeth. I raise my eyebrows. I knew he was the only one dumb enough to leave this thing out in the open. 

"Safe," I say, keeping my face stoic. His nostrils flare.

"Do better," he says, his face inches from mine. I take a deep breath to compose myself, preparing to ask him all the questions I had thought of while I was waiting. 

"Where did you get it?" I ask, my eyes searching through his. They give me nothing, shocking me. I can usually read Steve like a book, but today something is different. 

"Why would I tell you?" he says. 

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" I challenge, making a face. This whole bad cop routine doesn't suit him. His lack of trust in me is astonishing. Two can play at this game, and I am ready to go full interrogation on his ass. "Fury gave it to you, why?" I ask, searching his face for a second time. Once again, nothing is revealed. 

"What's on it?" he demands. I sigh, the frustration already bubbling up inside of me. 

"How should I know, I wasn't the one that hid it in a vending machine," I say. Just as the last words escape my mouth, he pushes my shoulders into the wall again.  

"Stop lying," he says, gritting his teeth again.

"I only act like I know everything Cap."

"Don't call me that here," he says, his annoyance with my sarcasm getting the better of him. "I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?" I pause, processing the information. I didn't know that, but I make sure my face doesn't give that away. 

"Well, it makes sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so did you." I say, still playing a game.

"I'm not gonna ask you again," he says, his hands tightening their grip around my shoulders.

"I know who killed Fury," I say, hoping the shock value of my statement would cause him to let me go. It didn't, but he did loosen his hands slightly. As soon as he gave me the ops of the shooter, I knew exactly who it was. "Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. But the ones who do, call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years." I whisper, fear finding a home in my tone.

"So he's a ghost story," Steve says, calming down. He lets go of my shoulders and I sigh in relief. I roll out my arms as I continue. 

"When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha and I were escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out the tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff. I pulled us out. But the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer so he shot him," I pull up my shirt to show him the scars on my stomach. "right through me." As I flash him my oldest bullet scar, his eyes wander sadly to the other two new ones that now permanently mark my stomach. "No rifling," I pause. "Bye-bye bikinis."

"Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now," he says sarcastically. The smirk on my face hides my racing heart as I lower my shirt. I take a deep breath, recomposing myself. 

"Going after him is a dead end. I know, I've tried. Like you said," I hold up the flash drive for him to see. "he's a ghost story." Steve's stance relaxes even more when he sees the flash drive in my hand.