Monster

Thirty-Four

Even though the blood was gone, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was sitting at the kitchen table with my hands wrapped around a mug of tea. The liquid burned the cut on my lip and scalded my throat. Clara was sitting opposite me. She'd flown in from New York while I was still in Talbot's custody. Tony was on his way from California.

Bucky hadn't come back. No one had seen him. I did what Steve said and stayed quiet, even when Sam arrived. He kept his arm around my shoulder while I was questioned, but I kept my mouth shut until Stark's lawyer came. And even then, I didn't say much. Steve looked for Bucky as long as he could, and when I was finally allowed back home, I almost expected to find him lurking in the shadows. He never came. And he didn't come the next night either.

"I just don't understand why you won't stay at a hotel," Clara was saying as she swept her dark brown hair out of her face and stirred the spoon in her mug. She swore the tea would calm my nerves, but it didn't help. I didn't expect it to.

My house was trashed, and there was another death on my hands. No matter what anyone said to try and cheer me up, I could still imagine the blood on the lawn. There were stains on the floor and a bullet hole in the doorframe. The bullet had gone through someone's throat before embedding in the wood. I put it there.

"I can't stay at a hotel in case he comes back," I explained, taking another sip and wincing from the sting.

"You can leave him a note. Give him another number to call you at."

"Tony won't let me do that. That would tell Hydra exactly how to find me." She sighed.

"Hydra already knows where you are. So how does it make a difference? Let Tony set up more surveillance. He can tell you if Barnes comes back so you can contact him."

"He won't come back if I'm not here."

"I don't think he's going to come back anyway." I glanced at her. She looked so neat and professional sitting in my modest kitchen. She even had pearls in her earlobes, and there wasn't a single strand of her naturally curly hair out of place.

"He promised he would find me."

"Let him find you someplace else. And what if they got to him? What if he's with Hydra again?"

"He'll come back for me." She sighed in agitation and looked toward the kitchen window. I glanced at the clock and set the mug back down. "I have to get to my meeting with Talbot. You shouldn't be alone here. Just in case."

"You should let me come with you."

"It's at the Triskelion, and you haven't been cleared. So unless you want to wait on the bridge, I'd advise you not to go."

"You should really have your lawyer with you."

"It's not an interrogation. My lawyer already did his job. Talbot just wants to scold me for helping Steve without telling him. It'll be fine."

"I wish you weren't going back to that place. They already ruined your life."

"I really don't have the energy to argue with you right now. If I don't talk to Talbot, he will have me arrested."

"Tony's lawyer would get you out, and Tony would pay your bail. You know that."

"I'd rather not owe Tony more than I already do. So I'm going to try and avoid being arrested."

"Fine." Clara brushed me off but followed as I left the kitchen.

The neighborhood used to feel like my sanctuary. It was standard and boring, and there was something safe in that routine. The neighbors were predictable and never really bothered me. Girl Scouts felt safe enough to walk down the street and sell cookies.

Now the place was darkened by what I'd done. I brought darkness into their everyday boring routines. No kids were running off to school or people out jogging or mowing lawns. Everyone felt the presence of Oscar's death, even though they didn't know him. I brought danger into their lives just by allowing Hydra into mine. No matter what I did, that darkness seemed to follow.

Clara stayed with me until I got to the car. She stood on the edge of the driveway, arms crossed over her chest. She looked tired, despite looking so perfectly poised and clean so early in the morning. I told her to go home and let me deal with my problems on my own, but she refused to go. The ride to speak to Talbot would be the first time I'd been alone since I was released. I opened the door and looked back at my sister.

"Don't stay here by yourself," I reminded her.

"I'm just going to clean up, and then Tony should be here. Maybe we'll get breakfast and wait for you to finish," she explained. "Call me when you're done with Talbot." I gave her a quick nod before sliding into the car.

I hated driving alone. It was when my mind was free to wander, and I had no one to talk to. It didn't matter how high I turned up the music or how much I concentrated on the road. The thoughts always caught up with me. I would have asked Clara to join if I wasn't desperate for a moment of solitude. And I also didn't want her to hear all the things I would have to tell Talbot. She wouldn't understand.

Even though it was so early, it was past the morning rush hour. When I worked for SHIELD, I was always on my way to work before the sun came up. So while there were still cars on the road, it was an easy drive. I didn't have to stop often, and there was enough space for me to pass the black SUV that was annoyingly slow in front of me. But the car was too goddamn silent, and I could never find a station I liked. So I took my eyes off the road just to switch over to a disk.

But they were off the road just a second too long. The car that had been beside me for the last few minutes made a sudden sideswipe. My car jerked from the impact, and I returned my eyes to the road just quick enough to catch the sight of the SUV's brake lights before swerving and slamming the brakes. The car swung to the side and smashed into the guardrail. The airbag detonated into my face, causing my lip to break back open.

"Miss Hayes, I've detected an impact," Jarvis informed me. I didn't have time to respond before the door was ripped open and the seatbelt yanked off. I was dragged from the vehicle and out onto the open freeway.

I was tossed onto the pavement, and then a gun was pressed against the back of my skull. It had happened so fast that I took a moment to assess the situation. A whole group of agents was climbing out of the black SUV. I would have noticed too many of them on the road if this was anywhere other than DC.

A man was standing in the center of the group. He wasn't dressed like the others. They'd left his metal arm exposed, and his long hair was lashing in his face. He had his sharp blue eyes on mine. His expression was deeply concerned. Deeply human.

"Shoot her," the man behind me instructed. One of them held out a gun, but Bucky made no move for it as they cleared his path. "Shoot her, or I will. You said you were loyal to us. I want you to prove it. Shoot her."

"She hasn't done anything," Bucky argued. The man used the gun to shove my head forward. I winced from the strike.

"It's not your job to ask questions, Soldier. Shoot her!"

"She's a civilian."

The man hit me on the back of the head and pushed me forward again. Bucky reached for the gun and lifted it in my direction.

Only a few yards were separating us, and he had the weapon aimed at my face. I wanted to beg him not to do it, but I could already tell he didn't want to. This man was dressed like the Winter Soldier, but his expression had too much emotion for him to be anyone but Bucky. There was life in his blue eyes. Too much fear and discomfort. Invisible marks that I'd left on him.

"Shoot her!" the man shouted. I flinched when Bucky's hands tightened on the gun.

I knew he didn't want to do it. He didn't want to follow orders anymore, and even if what the man said was true and Bucky swore loyalties to them, I didn't believe he'd done it willingly. They apparently hadn't tampered with his memories, and maybe that was all he could do to save himself from that torture. They were going to torture him anyway. He'd have to shoot me or watch me die.

All of them had their guns raised even though I was unarmed. There was no way I'd be able to get out of it. He could shoot the man behind me, but then the rest of them would open fire, and I'd still die. He could try fighting them, but despite his many talents, it would only take one second for one or more of them to pull a trigger. All he could do was buy me time, and I could see on his face that he didn't know how.

He was breathing hard as he weighed the options in his mind. There had to be a loophole for me to escape through, but I couldn't think of anything. And I didn't know if it was because I'd just been in a car accident, or there wasn't one. Bucky looked like he'd come to the same conclusion.

"Bucky," I said softly. His lips were set in a straight line, but his eyes were conflicted. "It's okay," I told him. "Because—it was real. Just—no matter what happens—don't let them take that from you. Count your heartbeats. Like I showed you. And you'll know. You're human, and even if they take me from you, you'll still have that."

"You're pathetic," the man behind me said. "A failure and a traitor." The gun cocked with a metallic click. And then Bucky jerked to the side and fired.

I heard the loud bang and slammed into the man behind me before dropping to the pavement. My right shoulder exploded with pain, and I screamed as I rolled to my side. I'd forgotten just how sharp and excruciating the pain was. Even in all my nightmares and flashbacks, my memory didn't prepare me for it. The pain was explosive and unexpected. I cried out as I clutched the bleeding hole the bullet had torn through me.

The man stepped over me, and I watched until my eyes landed on Bucky. He still looked pained, but he was watching the man expectantly as he tossed something to the agent beside Bucky.

"The Asset is compromised. Take him out and prep him for transport," he said.

Bucky sprang into action. He spun around and cracked the man in the face with his metal fist. The agent beside him reached out with whatever he'd been handed and slammed the object into Bucky's neck. He stumbled and tried to fight, but his face went red, and he fell forward to his knees. His eyes met mine.

"Run," he said.

I tried to get back on my feet, but I knew I wouldn't be fast enough. Even if I made it to the car in time, they'd blocked off the area with their fleet of SUVs. The most I could do was lock the door and hope that Tony made the windows bullet resistant.

I got up and limped toward the car, clutching my bleeding shoulder. Bucky was still struggling behind me but slowing. I kept my eyes forward. I couldn't help if I were dead, but it took everything I had not to turn back and fight. I just had to take his gift of more time and hope for the best.

"Get him in the car. I'll do it myself," the man said. A bullet zinged past me and struck the car hard enough to crack the glass. I froze. "Turn around."

I did what I was told and turned but looked past him, where Bucky had fallen unconscious on the cement. The other agents were trying to get him up so they could drag him back to one of the cars. Then the agent stepped in front of me and blocked him from view. He lifted his gun.

"Agent Hayes," he said with a smile. There was blood dripping from his nose. "We want to thank you, truly, for everything you've done for us. And thank you for taking such good care of the Asset while we got up and running again. Now we can rebuild him stronger and better than he ever was before. And when we do that, we'll send him after everyone you love. Starting with your sister."

"You forgot one teeny-tiny little thing, you know that?" I said, breathing heavily. "My car has a crash detector—and it links directly to Iron Man."

He laughed like he didn't believe me, but I'd seen the flash of red before he did. Bucky had given me just enough time. The red blur flew at him from the side and caught him in the gut, flinging him across the road toward the divider. He skidded to a halt and then jumped back to his feet.

Tony's suits were always more impressive up close. I could hear him moving toward me, then the mask stared down at me. I slumped against the car and slid to the ground.

"Are you alright?" Tony's voice asked through a digital transmitter.

"Been better," I admitted.

A bullet struck the side of his helmet, and he immediately turned and flew off again. The black SUV they'd stuck Bucky in was already speeding down the freeway. Cars were lined up behind the wreck's blockage, and I knew Steve wouldn't make it through in time to stop them. I couldn't drive fast enough to catch up, let alone fight them. My head was already spinning.

I finally managed to work up enough strength to get back on my feet. Tony had the agent by the ankle and was holding him over the edge of the overpass. The man was screaming, and he'd dropped his gun at Tony's feet. I limped over to them.

"Tony!" I shouted. The mask turned in my direction. "Leave me with the gun. Go after Bucky, please?"

"Can't do that, Jo," he said.

"Please?" I begged. I reached for the gun on the ground. "For me?" He turned and dumped the man on the road at my feet.

"I'm doing it because they're Hydra. Not for you," he said. Then he flew off down the road after the car.

I held the gun up with my left hand. It was shaking, but the agent didn't know about my inability to pull a trigger. At least I hoped he didn't. Either way, he must have known it wouldn't be the first time I'd shot someone in the last week.

"He won't catch them," he said, sitting up on his knees and staring up at me like a guilty dog. "You'll never get him back. It's too late for him, Agent Hayes. It's too late for you. Because when we rebuild him—we're going to send him after you. And you won't be able to save him this time. We'll make sure of it." I responded by switching off the safety lock. "You can't shoot me. You're bleeding out. You don't have the upper body strength."

"You really want to test me?" I asked, stepping forward to close the distance between the barrel of the gun and his forehead. "You know that's the last thing Agent Harman said to me, too, right? He said I couldn't do it. And I shot him through the jugular. And I was in a good mood that day."

"What were your last words to James Barnes before he shot you, Hayes? Words don't mean anything. He'll forget you. And then we'll send him to kill all your friends one by one. We'll make you watch."

The blood was draining from my body too quickly. As far as I could tell, the wound wasn't fatal, but the bleeding wasn't slowing. My head was getting dizzier, and I was having a hard time holding the gun up. I just wanted to stay conscious long enough for Tony to get back or for Steve to find me. But the pain was growing unbearable, and I could already see black dots popping up in my eyes.

"You already tried that," I said, struggling to breathe through the pain. "You couldn't kill my friends. And do you hear that?" The freeway below was loud with passing cars and trucks. Cars were honking beyond the buildup. Sirens blared in the distance. But beneath all that, I could make out the familiar rumble of a motorcycle engine. I knew that sound better than anyone. "That," I told him, "is my upper body strength."

I stumbled backward and dropped the gun. I couldn't hold it up anymore, but the sound of the engine was deafening now. He jerked for the weapon, and his fingers had just grasped the handle when a shield spun past and struck him in the face. He hit the guardrail and was out cold. The shield slid across the road before coming to a stop. When I turned around, Steve was standing on the trunk of my car.

"Are you okay?" he asked, jumping down to the ground. His face was focused. I shook my head.

"Tony went after him." I motioned down the freeway. "He shot me." Then I dropped to the ground and rested my head against the rail. I pinched my eyes shut and pressed my palm against the wound.