Searching for James

Prolouge: A Favor

This is a fanfiction I've actually been working on for months! I'm just now typing it up but my progress will probably be slow. If you want me to hurry then please remind me with comments. I don't ever use OCs...but I hope you like this one. Please enjoy and I must shout out to my best friend WiltedWinterRose, because I probably wouldn't have bothered uploading this if not for her. <3

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                                                  PROLOUGE:                                   

I was in Belgium the day the Triskellion was attacked. Immediately I tried to contact Natasha. Then Fury. Then Agent Hill who informed me Fury was dead. My three-month long operation in Belgium went up in smoke when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, but I didn’t have the mind to care.

The next day I was on a plane to Washington D.C.

The following month was chaos. 

Maria Hill had joined Stark Industries and was doing damage control from there. Natasha had disappeared and so had Steve Rogers. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s weapons and alien technology had been lost or stolen and pockets of HYDRA’s organization were using the chaos to take the technology for themselves. Along with this, S.H.I.E.L.D. was no longer around to contain the phenomena and keep them away from the citizens. 

A few days after I reached D.C., there was an incident involving an escaped prisoner of The Fridge who possessed gravitational powers. Five people died. There were a dozen incidents following that one and no S.H.I.E.L.D. to stop them.

I left Maria Hill to deal with the government, and took on the domestic problems alone. Natasha must have realized I was trying to get her help because she returned the following week. 

We met in the airport. It was the first time I’d seen her in a year.

“Scythe,” she greeted with a smile. That was my name and title. I was never given a middle or last name. Only Scythe.

Well, that’s a bit inaccurate…

I did have a last name once – I must have, but I can’t remember it. One day I woke up, a twelve-year-old girl with fine manners, cascading brown hair (very well taken care of, I should add), and smooth, unscarred skin. When I spoke, my voice sounded entirely normal to me, and everyone else sounded strange. A while later I learned I had a British accent. That accent was the only real thing about me, and it was all I had when I awoke. 

Natasha and I met during those early years, and circumstances caused us to be close. Well, as close as anyone can be to Natasha - but to this day, she’s the only person in the world I really know, and yet I still don’t know much about her.

At the airport I was very happy to see her but there was a surprising amount of irritation inside me too. 

“It took you long enough,” were my first words to her. Then “Sorry,” quickly followed. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. I never let myself get angry if I could help it, but my life had been a mess lately.

“Things must be worse than I thought,” she said. 

“Indeed.”

                                                      . . . .

Once Natasha showed up I made her stay and help me. Trying to fill in for S.H.I.E.L.D. as one person was impossible but having Black Widow as my partner made all the difference. We stopped a dozen threats in the following month, without backup or much intel from the fractured S.H.I.E.L.D. That was only in the D.C. area. We couldn’t possibly cover anywhere else.

After six weeks had passed since S.H.I.E.L.D.’s demise, the world started to calm. Maria sent a team to deal with the aftermath, which Natasha and I had nearly finished cleaning up. I was happy to let them handle the rest. Leadership was never something I felt cut out for, even if Fury and Natasha told me otherwise. It was like wearing gloves that were too tight and unattractive. 

On our first easy day I asked Natasha not to go running off to another country. When she said she wouldn’t promise anything, I laughed. But she ended up listening to me. Instead of leaving the country, she went to meet Steve Rogers.

                                                      . . . .

Natasha called me up only a day after she’d gone.

“I’m with Rogers right now. We need you to meet us.”

“Alright,” I replied, baffled by the sudden request. “May I ask why?”

“Something’s come up. Rogers has something important he wants to discuss with you and so do I.” 

“Rogers?” I questioned. I’d never even met The Captain. 

“I told him you might be willing to listen. And Scythe? Don’t let anyone see you leaving your apartment.”

I met the two of them at a small park near the Washington Monument. Rogers was less boisterous than all the stories made him out to be. There was honesty in the way he carried himself and a constant shine in his eyes. I liked him immediately.

“Your name is Scythe?” he asked, extending a hand. His shake was strong.

    “It’s nice to meet you Rogers. There are few people I’ve seen Natasha regard with such respect.”

“The same to you,” he replied. “Natasha said if there’s anyone left in S.H.I.E.L.D. we can trust besides Maria, it’s you.” The Black Widow herself was standing next to us through our greeting and looked annoyed at being the topic of conversation.

“What did you need to see me about?” I asked. 

At this he stopped;  his eyes flickered down to his shuffling feet. The Captain was nervous?

“It’s okay, I’m not going to turn tail and run,” I encouraged. “Whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen to every word.” I’d noticed a slouch in his shoulders and bags under his eyes. He clearly had a lot going on and it made me want to help him. Captain America was supposed to be boosting everyone’s morale, not hanging his head. 

He finally said, “I know how rude this is, considering we just met, but I have a favor.” I waited and listened. “Natasha and I discovered traces of a HYDRA cell still in this area. We think they’re the cause of most of the recent public attacks and we don’t think they’re finished. “

“Right now they’re putting themselves out in the open,” Natasha continued. “But HYDRA is used to scattering and hiding at the first sign of exposure. We can’t let them know we’re onto them. Rogers and I are going dark for a while to track them down.”

“And you need me to come?” I asked. “I’m ready whenever you want to go.”

“Actually,” Rogers stopped me, “that’s not the favor.”

I hesitated. “What is it then?”

He looked me in the eye, communicating the importance of what he was about to say. “It’s about my friend, Bucky Barnes.”

And that was the real beginning of this story.