On The Run

Car Ride

Chapter 4: Car ride

The flight back to the mainland was nerve wracking at best; rain pelted the helicopter from all angles and there were a few times Wanda worried a stray gust of wind was going to knock them right out of the sky. Scott and Sam pelted Steve with questions-mostly wanting to know exactly where Bucky was and where they were planning to go now that they were all wanted criminals. Steve responded with vague one word answers, keeping his eyes on the water and an almost sly smile on his face; somehow, Wanda didn't think he minded keeping them wondering. All he would say was that he had taken care of everything and they would be perfectly safe.

For a while she was happy with the change in plans; she no longer had to worry about one of her captors using the shock collar on her if they felt she was stepping out of line and she could look out at the roiling ocean (and later the crowded streets of downtown Washington on a sunny Sunday afternoon in the middle of May) instead of a sterile concrete wall. But all too soon the doubts became crawling back, gnawing at her brain like a parasite-maybe it was for the best that she stay imprisoned, unable to use her powers. It kept people safe; it kept her from hurting anybody accidentally...like what had happened in Lagos...She dug her fingers into the palms of her hands so hard she drew blood, involuntarily gasping. Clint glanced over at her in concern but she pretended to occupy herself looking out the window and trying not to think at all.

"Did you get a halfway decent getaway car this time," Sam asked as they landed on the tarmac in a nearly deserted airfield a few miles outside Washington. Steve handed out hoodies and they all clambered outside into the sunshine; it was more than disconcerting after the harsh florescent lighting of the Raft, but no one gave the five fugitives a second look as they crossed the airfield and climbed into a waiting car idling on the shoulder of the road.

Steve rolled his eyes as he climbed in the passenger's seat of a slightly beat up KIA that looked like every other car on the road. "I don't know. You tell me. And you're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Nope," Sam muttered as he took his seat in the middle row-glaring daggers at the back of Bucky's head, who was sitting in the front seat and seemed extremely proud of himself.

"Can we turn on some music," Scott added. "That always helps me relax after I've almost died inside of a helicopter."

"Not the Mexican stuff," Clint muttered, and Wanda silently agreed. They'd let Scott listen to his music for nearly the entire drive from the airport in Germany-and that had not been a good decision. In fact, it had taken them both all the self control they had not to murder him after the forty fifth song full of sexual innuendos they couldn't understand.

"Aww. Fine. Well, what do you guys like to listen to then? Or do you want me to guess? Steve, I'm getting a classical/big band vibe from you; same with you, Winter Soldier, maybe with a little hint of classic rock thrown in there-"

"It's Bucky," said Winter Soldier responded, looking out the window expressionlessly.

"-And for Clint...obviously hard rock. Maybe a little bit of classic, but definitely hard rock. Sam...I'm going to have to go with bluegrass," Sam obviously took offense at that but Scott kept talking before he could cut him off. "Wanda, you're difficult to place also...but given the fact that you kind of give off that angsty teenager vibe sometimes, I think I'll go with rock-whatever kind you can find to listen to-with just a touch of emo stuff. I mean, I've noticed that you like to wear black all of the time-"

His incessant chatter was giving her a killer headache,"Are you physically incapable of being quiet for just five minutes?"

"Sorry. Hey, come to think of it that's exactly what my ex wife said a couple of weeks before she sent for divorce papers."

"So, where're we going Steve," Clint interrupted.

"A safe house," Steve replied vaguely. "Make yourselves comfortable-it's going to be a long drive," He merged expertly into traffic and they hit the road, angling out of town and up towards New York State.

At first the car was filled with excited chatter as everyone got over their initial excitement at being out of jail-and even on the run to a certain extent. Scott was convinced they should travel internationally, especially to Europe, while Bucky would be just fine with hiding out in a safe house containing a television set and a very large stack of books for the rest of his life. However, as the minutes began to pass and the concept of being free became less and less foreign, conversation started to taper off. People spent more time looking out the window than engaging in conversation and then went from looking out the window to trying to catch up on all the sleep they'd missed while in the Raft.

Her brain kept on working and she couldn't shut it off; replaying Lagos over and over in her head. She could have done so many things differently, worked so much faster to save those people...despite what Steve said, she knew it was her fault. She should have contained that explosion-and then they wouldn't be here right now and none of this would have happened. They'd still be a team, not factions.

Clint had to say her name twice before she finally heard him. "Are you all right," he asked quietly, looking at the little cuts on her palms that were still red with dried blood.

"I'm fine," she replied. It was an easy lie, one she'd grown accustomed to using a lot over the past year-especially in the first few months, when her grief for her brother was so great that she barely found the energy to get out of bed in the mornings.

"It doesn't look like it."

She sighed. It was impossible to lie to either Clint or Natasha. "Fine. I'm...working on it, then."

"When was the last time you got some decent sleep?"

"A few days ago. It's hard to sleep in a straitjacket." In actuality, she hadn't gotten good sleep in two and a half weeks-ever since Lagos.

"Try to get some sleep. We've still got a few hours to go before we get there," He noticed the way she quickly glanced around the car, as if he could guess that she was worried that if she did fall asleep she might wake up back in her cell. "It's going to be okay. You're safe here-well, as safe as you can be when you're on the run."

She nodded and shifted so she was looking out the window. They'd left Washington DC far behind them and were now driving through Maryland, bound for the New York border and passing small villages and acres of empty farmland and forest alike. It was a peaceful view-and very calming, when coupled with the lull of the car and the soft hum of the air conditioning.

Even so it took her a long time to drop into a rather restless sleep, trying to be secure in the knowledge that her team would still be there when she woke up.