Finding Death

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Captain America

Things have been pretty quiet since the attempted assassination/escape. I'm not sure if I'm calmed by that or worried- I keep waiting for the assassin to appear again, leaping out to cut me open. I'd hoped my shield would've found it's way back to me by now but no such luck. She must still have it. It's different without it, weird, the thing I've relied on since the 1940s lost to the enemy.

My hands don't know what to do without it.

I need to find that, but not just that; I need to find the assassin. The results came back from the DNA test, so it's certain: Peggy's sister is alive. Rikki Maria Carter is alive.

And she's trying to kill me.

I'm not sure what the worst part is: I'm torn somewhere between that she's in HYDRA's control, like Bucky was, or that she's trying to kill me. I haven't decided yet. Knowing her as I did, there's an extremely high chance that could beat me in a straight fight, according to Bruce's calculations.

But have I told Peggy? Of course not. It would kill her to know that her sister's still alive, and there's no way in Hell that I can do that to her. Sometimes I wish that I didn't know.

Early in the hours of the morning, exactly two months after the attack on the tower, I convince Natasha that I can go for a run by myself, instead of with a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or, mostly, Natasha or Clint after he healed enough from the stab wound. I always have to slow down for those, so it's not nearly as... relaxing? Fun? Something?

To Natasha's annoyance, I take the three hour drive without her to the Washington Monument, near to where I first met Sam. He's out in Europe, searching for Bucky so he doesn't come back often. That's why I run here- it reminds me of him. Sam, I mean.

Not Bucky.

I could never forget Bucky.

*

Nomad

I hate this.

I look so... so... so mundane. It's awful. These running shoes are not doing wonders for my feet, as the stupid slogan suggested, and these leggings and tee shirt have barely any room for weapons. There's still knives in my shoes, of course, one on the inside of my leg and one more on each wrist (it's a long-sleeved, mildly baggy tee shirt. Obviously), as well as the smallest pistol I have ever seen tucked into my waistband. I have never felt this bloody uncomfortable in my entire remembered life.

If you idiots can't tell, I'm going on a run. It wasn't my idea- have I ever mentioned how much I hate my assistant? - but I have to do it. I won't admit it's a good plan since his ego is big enough already.

I know my course; I've been watching him for weeks now, tracking his route from afar. But he's always been with someone, normally the redhead, and honestly I can't be bothered to take on them both. This job needs to get done.

Thanks to some technological... thing... my assistant did to the Tower before the 'system kicked him out', we know that today, he will be alone. I'm not going to get another chance like this. It has to be today.

It will be today.

*

Captain America