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Nine

None of that shit made sense at first.

The Winter Soldier wasn't really the Winter Soldier, they were almost like two seperate people.  James Buchanan Barnes was apparently a good American soldier in World War II, but captured by Hydra and used over decades as their assassin.  I asked why he didn't just disobey Hydra's brutal orders, but that's when the pieces fell together.  Many years ago, I found the red book with the black star.  One of the pages contained a schedule for Oliver and I's memory wipe- that was what Hydra did to the Winter Soldier.  And while I had a chance to escape, the Winter Soldier did not.  In a way, I almost felt bad for the man I painted as my enemy.  But, I knew it would still be hard to look at him and not see a killer- it wouldn't be a fucking light switch.

By then Sharon gave me a bowl of cereal to eat.  I sat beside Shuri on the couch, still feeling a tiny bit intimidated by her vibrant presence.  Through mouthfuls of Cheerios, I asked, "What is it that you want from me, though?"  Shuri spoke before Agent Thirteen, her words sounding much more thoughtful than anything Sharon had ever said to me.  "We know that in order to stay alive and out of Hydra's reach, you have a high position in Crimson Night.  To keep yourself off everyone's radar, you made a deal with Brock Rumlow which helped result in the bombing in Lagos-"

"He promised he wouldn't hurt anyone-" I cut in, feeling a heavy weight in my chest as I remembered that foul experience.

"Either way, you still agreed initially." pointed out Shuri.  She sounded stern, but her dark eyes did show that she felt sympathy for the fourteen year-old girl who made shit decisions to survive.   

Sharon changed the subject, "We want to shut down Crimson Night.  They have committed many illegal acts, but more importantly, youth are dying at the hands of Criz."

I interjected, "I've been taking Criz for five years, and it hasn't done shit to me."

Shuri placed a paper down in front of me.  In the right-hand corner was a horrible picture of a corpse.  The body, which had frothed at the mouth and was a decaying yellowish colour, made me wince.  With her brown eyes boring into mine, Sharon told me very seriously, "The newest trend is to take Criz paired with another drug- marijuana, heroin, cocaine- and unfortunately Criz is highly reactive when combined with those substances.  Quite simply, a chemical reaction will happen inside your body if you happen to overdose.  How were you not aware of this?"

"I dealt with the financials," I shrugged nonchalantly, trying not sound utterly horrified by the new information.  That part was true, I never dealt with the drug itself- I only took care of business when owed money wasn't given back to Crimson Night.  In regards to that drug, I took doses of Criz to hide the pain over an extended period of time, and I thought that was what everyone else did as well.  Criz for me was a pill that turned sadness into emptiness.  How did Criz even become something so lethal, and how come Azazel Cruz never acted upon it?  How come Trish never acted upon it?  That corpse was burned into my vision, I pulled the trigger to end their life.  My senselessness had killed many people.  

Or, was it senselessness?  Perhaps I decided to stay blind to all the wrongs Crimson Night did in order to survive.

My ignorance had killed many people.

I stood up, only my legs gave out underneath me.  Crumpling onto the couch, I bit my lip in agony.  In some ways, I was worse than the Winter Soldier; he had no options in his life, but everything bad that has happened to the world around me has been a result of my bad decision.  There was no excuse, I lost sense of right and wrong.  I deserved to be in a fucking prison.  

Shuri suddenly said, "Elissa, you have a choice.  There is still time to right your wrongs, redeem the bad choices you have made.  You can help a lot of people."

Do it for Papa, do it for Ollie.  

Biting my bottom lip so hard it bled, I answered, "I can try to help you,"

Silently, I added:  I can try to help them.  I can't trust them, but I can help them.  The kindness offered to me today was almost convincing.  The weight of guilt was the heaviest it had ever been.  But, I still remembered Trish's little sister, Stacey.  S.H.I.E.L.D. has no justification for her death.  So, I would try to help them as long as they kept me alive; I needed a redemption arc.  However, I decided I would never trust S.H.I.E.L.D. with any of my secrets- the second my work was done I would disappear.

I would go into the woods, build the dreamed log cabin, and live the rest of my days in an eery form of peace.

Rain sloshed heavily against the windows all day.  Every injury I had was left unattended, so I felt fatigued.  Even after hearing the truth regarding Crimson Night, I still missed my home.  But, I had to get used to the fact that that apartment was not my home.  Shuri disappeared to go talk to officials in Wakanda, and I was sad to see her go.  She seemed the nicest out of the bunch.  I sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.  Someone left me a remote for the television, and I just stared blankly at the flashing colours.  It was so fucking annoying that I couldn't tell what I was feeling!  Helpness and vunerable, I was a caged animal.

The Winter Soldier came and sat a couple feet away from me, on the other end of the couch.  "I have something for you," he said, placing his hand on the empty space between us.  When he moved his hand, I saw the one thing I had thought I lost forever.

It was Oliver's necklace.

What?  How-?

Unless...

The Winter Soldier pulled me from the river.  The Winter Soldier saved me.  S.H.I.E.L.D. needs me.  S.H.I.E.L.D. needs me.

S.H.I.E.L.D. needs me.

I turned my head, my face painting the exactness of utter shock.  He turned away, but I smiled my crooked smile and said, "Thank you,"