Winter's War || The Winter Soldier

Chapter Ten: The Secretary

Music is "I Know You Care" by Ellie Goulding.

Picture is Robert Redford as Secretary Alexander Pierce.

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CHAPTER TEN: The Secretary

Time of death: 1:08 a.m.

Grant is dead.

They sewed him back up and put him on a gurney, ready to be taken to the morgue or funeral home or wherever the bloody hell they take dead people. I didn't care. And I sure as hell didn't say goodbye. Because he can't be dead. He just can't be.

They took him and Fury into a quiet room, covered mostly by white sheets, so that we could say what we needed to in person. Steve and Maria stayed nearest the wall, holding in their sadness for the most part. Natasha stood over Fury's corpse, showing the most emotion I've ever seen. She cried for her friend and Director, but I think she mostly cried for the one person who gave her the benefit of the doubt when others accused her of still being a puppet of the Red Room.

Although I mourn for Fury, my attention is on the seventeen year old boy in front of me now. He lies on his gurney, too pale and too still. I can tell his soul and spirit are gone somewhere else, and all I can hope is that when he gets to Heaven, that my mother and Bucky are there to guide him.

I've seen people I care about die. The death part is not where my sadness comes from. I've spent almost a century learning how to let people go. But Grant was supposed to be untouchable. Children shouldn't have to die. After Fritz and Zelma during the Cold War... I never thought I would see a time where my child would die so young.

Whoever this Winter Soldier is, I don't care anymore. All I care about now is killing him in the most painful way I can.

And if there's one thing I've learned over the past century, that is pain.

After a few minutes of solemn silence, Maria clears her throat, saying, "I need to take him."

"What about Grant?" Steve asks softly.

"I'll make sure he's taken care of, too."

Steve's silence tells me he agrees. I hear him step closer to me. He stands beside me, reaching for my hand. I pull it back, eyes still glued to Grant. "They'll take care of him while STRIKE questions us," he whispers to me, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

"I don't give a damn what STRIKE wants," I reply angrily.

"They're trying to find out who did this," Steve explains.

"We know who did this," I retort, fists shaking at my sides. "And he's going to pay for what he's taken from us." I turn from my diseased son, marching past Steve, Natasha, and Maria to get some space in the hallway outside. Besides the soldiers and vending machine, the stark white space is pretty much empty.

I take a deep breath, trying to control my thoughts. I haven't felt this out of control and angry since Zelma died in 1960, also at the hands of this mysterious Winter Soldier. I run my shaky hands through my dark, messy hair, forcing the tears to evaporate.

"Breathe," I tell myself, leaning my forehead against the white walls of the hospital. "Breathe."

I hear Natasha and Steve exit the room a few moments after me. Maria, however, remains inside.

"Natasha," Steve says, walking after the redhead as she marches past me.

I close my eyes, hearing Natasha stop and turn back towards Steve. Her voice is completely level and calm as she inquires, "Why was Fury in your apartment?"