On Command ~ Sequel to Lost Heros

I Remembered and I Ran

Romania
*Bucky's P.O.V*

"Claire Doyle , Avenger permeabila , de asemenea, cunoscut faimos ca nyx , a dorit pentru a fi o parte a organizației ilegale Hydra !"
(Claire Doyle, pervious avenger, also famously known as The Nyx, wanted for being a part of the illegal Hydra organization!)

     When I read the headline, I grabbed the newspaper as fast as I could and ran to my small place of residence. I'd call it an apartment but it's conditions are too terrible.
As soon as I stepped inside, my eyes scanned all over the pages for  a reason why she could be wanted after all this time.

"Descoperirile recente sunt doar guvernamentale aflat că Doyle a făcut parte din acest grup dispicable . Ea a dorit peste tot în lume pentru mai multe capete de acuzare de crimă , treaso și furt ."
(Recent government discoveries are just finding out that Doyle was part of this dispicable group. She is wanted all over the world for several counts of murder, treason, and theft.)

     I took a deep breath and sat down on the nearest chair. Worry was growing inside me at a rapid pace and I ran my metal arm through my hair.
I remembered Claire. I remembered all of her; even Nyx. When the memories came back to me, I felt like I was drowning. I remembered seeing her suffer as I did which almost had me ripping apart the floor boards. I remembered falling in love with her all over again and actually having a reason to live back at Hydra. I remembered the way Pierce took her away from me and I felt the anger all over again. I remembered how I rebelled against Hydra and got her out of that hell we were in. The torture and memory wiping after that were the worst I had ever received.
I remembered when she came back to me. To save me. And how I had tried to kill her. I almost did but the split second I was distracted was enough to have her run away. She had seen the real me. I had scared the love of my many lives away.

     And when the whole incident with Steve happened, I had remembered the Claire Doyle I knew as a child. How strong and full of life she was. How beautiful she made the army life. I remembered how I used to kiss her like she'd always be by my side.
And in a cruel ironic way, she did.

"Implicarea ei în inițiativa Avengers a ridicat o mulțime de întrebări cu privire la integritatea sa , care se adaugă doar foc mai mult la argumentul reglementărilor sale . Liderii de țară au început deja să se întâlnească pentru a încerca și a pune reglementările privind Avengers . Dar, dacă cineva are vreo informație despre locul aflării ei , vă rugăm să contactați poliția Îndată .
(Her involvement in the Avengers initiative has raised a lot of questions on its integrity that only add more fire to the argument of its regulations. Country leaders have already started to meet in order to try and put restrictions on the Avengers. But if anyone has any information on her whereabouts please contact the police immediatly.)

     The rest of the article kept talking about how much of a dangerous woman she was and how the avengers were all out of control.
I set the paper down, leaned back on my chair and sighed. It's clear that she's on the run since they have no idea where she is. Do I help? How do I help? Does she even want my help?
Odds are, she doesn't even remember me, the real me. She probably only remembers me as the Winter Soldier who saved her life then tried to kill her.

     Steve is probably helping her right now as a good brother would do. How the hell am I supposed to help Claire while staying away from Steve. I'm not so sure I could handle those two situations at the same time.
Which is better? Former best friend who you almost killed last time you saw him or former girlfriend who you tried to kill when she tried to rescue you? I think a nice therapy session would be better.

But I can't just sit here in a dirty hole and watch; I have to help.

And I know exactly how to keep an eye on her.
    
*Claire's P.O.V*

     "Paris?" Steve asked with worry laced all over his voice. I nodded my head slowly.

Currently, Steve, Tony, and I were in the Stark tower. Nat and Wanda had gone to make sure that nobody followed us here. This meeting was going to be quick and brief since it would only be a matter of time until the government thinks to look for me here.

     "It's safer than in the U.S.," I stated. "Everyone that has access to the internet, T.V, or a newspaper is going to be looking for me. In France I can change my name, get a haircut, buy a cat, and basically do anything and everything that will make me seem not assassiny." Steve still looked unconvinced.

"I've done this all before, Steve," I said calmly. If I looked even half as nervous as I really was, Steve would never agree to this. Not that I'd listen anyways. "And I'll keep in touch. I promise."

He nodded grimly and turned to Tony. "How fast can you create a new identity for Claire?" He asked him. Stark stood up from his seat and ran a few things through Friday.
"I can have everything ready in ten minutes, sir," her voice said. Tony nodded, "Then get to work." She replied with a crisp 'yes sir' and for started.
I was still getting used to the new voice after Jarvis became Vision and whatnot.

     "Doyle, do you have a back up plan in case they find you in France?" Tony asked me. I crossed my arms, "Move to Spain." Both Tony and Steve rolled their eyes.
"Don't worry about me," I started, "Worry about the storm that's coming your way. My past is making it seem like the avengers are reckless. It's all over the news. Government sticks are going to be asking a lot of questions to you guys and this might get dirty really soon."

They both turned to each other and I could tell they knew I was right. They couldn't worry about me right now.
I let out a dejected breath once I remembered that due to this bump in the road, I wouldn't be able to help Steve find Bucky. Once again I'd have to clean up my mess before I could help his. It was extremely frustrating. The second that I think things are finally going to be okay, is the second that I get screwed over once again. This time it lashed out on my friends too.

     Friday's voice snapped all of us out of our individual thoughts. "Identification ready, sir."
Tony walked over to where a passport, drivers license, birth certificate, and even a credit card were neatly and expertly printed. He walked over to me and handed me the passport.

"Well, Marie Amélie Belrose," he said trying out my new name, "Your flight leaves in six hours. Better get ready."