Hell Bound

Forty-Two

Bucky promised to send Russell my way if he happened to find him, but I heard nothing from either of them. Graham managed to keep his job and didn't throw anything by the end of the month. He even got his own phone and was looking into cheap apartments. I would have gladly let him rent my spare room, but I was afraid of him getting further sucked into my bullshit.

Since I wasn't used to having extra time alone with no one to talk to, I decided to go ahead and find that extra job. Graham had a few suggestions on where I could put my aiming skills to use with projectiles. But once Tony caught wind that I was looking for work, he magically procured something for me to do at home from my laptop. Which ended up being the simple task of organizing, editing, and labeling his personal notes and blueprints. Something his assistant or even Jarvis was fully capable of doing. But he claimed he didn't trust anyone else, and Jarvis was too snarky. I didn't complain because it was exactly what I needed to keep busy. And Jarvis really was very snarky.

After a month, I came to the conclusion that Bucky hadn't found Russell. The only thing I knew for sure was that he hadn't traveled very far. Not just because he told me he'd stay close, but also because I came home one day to find a new bathroom mirror sitting on my couch.

To be honest, I was upset that he didn't stick around. But I wasn't surprised. Graham helped me set the mirror up, and then I went to my room to be alone. Where I found a box sitting on my bed.

It was a metal lockbox that looked standard military-grade, even in the same ugly shade of green. There were scratches on the lid and dirt stuck in the crevices. It looked like something that had been buried and dug back up.

I made sure Graham was asleep and listening to music before I got around to playing with it. The key Bucky found was stashed away in one of my drawers. He'd told me to keep it somewhere safe, and I didn't know where else to put it. So I pulled it out of a sock and sat down on my bed with the box. It looked like he'd at least tried to wipe it off.

It took a great deal of courage to put the key in. I was worried it would be too packed with dirt to fix, but the keyhole was cleaner than the rest. Bucky had apparently cleared it out for me. The key slid in smoothly, and for half a second, I hoped it was the wrong key so I didn't have to see what was inside. But the lock clicked, and the lid popped up and dusted my comforter with dirt and pebbles.

I didn't want to open it. Not without Bucky. I wanted him to learn about what was inside too. Maybe it would help him. Perhaps it would tell us precisely what Hydra wanted from me and how to stop them. But that was probably just wishful thinking. If he didn't stick around to see it, it likely meant he already knew. And the only way he'd be able to know is if he found the man who'd buried it.

Maybe I just wanted him there so I didn't have to face it alone.

I took a few seconds to psych myself up for it. Then I told myself to stop being such a baby and just get it over with. I opened the lid and kept my eyes pinched shut. "Big baby," I muttered, and then I forced them open.

The box was full of letters. They were still in their envelopes and wrapped up with twine. There were several stacks of them, but each one looked like my mother's handwriting. Only they were all addressed to different names in different places. The return addresses were different too. Not my mom's name, but definitely her handwriting. The only thing out of the ordinary about them was the dates written on the front of each envelope. The earliest one seemed to be from October 1985.

I lifted the first stack. Might as well start from the beginning. I pulled the twine to release the stacks and picked up the first envelope. It had already been opened, and the paper was delicately fragile. Apparently, about as old as I was. I pulled the letter out and slouched in disappointment.