Only One

run

I always knew they'd find me eventually.

There's only so long someone like me can stay hidden. I don't have the luxury of going "off the grid", not when there are eyes at every coordinate. On the grid is all I have. Now, because of what's happened, trying to navigate it without getting myself killed is all I'll ever know. That's all I do anymore, navigate, and run. I've gotten pretty good at it too.

I've been hiding out here in Croatia for almost three months. It's the longest I've let myself stay anywhere since I escaped. It wasn't much, just a small studio with enough room for a twin sized bed, but I didn't need much more than that. Even so, I'm pissed that I have to leave. Of all the places I've stayed, Croatia was by far the best.

I can hear the footsteps of the men with their guns on the floors above as I shove the little that I own into my backpack. It's honestly a little pathetic. I mean seriously, didn't anyone ever teach these guys how to surveil and approach a target in silence? The answer to that question is obviously no, since right now it's like the entire Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is marching through the building.

I walk over to my one and only closet, sliding the door open and bending down to the floor. My fingers dig into the small crack in the floor board, pulling the panel up with ease. I reach just below the surface, grabbing the two pistols I've stashed there. Just as I'm sliding the first into the holster strapped to my thigh, I can feel it happen.

Someone just slid their way through my window. Two someone's actually. It's different from the men upstairs, the one's patiently waiting for their signal. These footsteps are well-trained, inaudible. I don't need to look over my shoulder to know exactly who they belong to.

I hold in a sigh, placing the floor board back in its place. My landlady is a sweetheart. I'm not trying to leave the apartment she'd rented to me in a poor condition if I can help it. I can still feel their eyes on me as I stand up, closing the closet door with one hand and turning to face them.

The first man is over by the window. He's wearing the same red, white and blue suit he was known for, star emblazoned on the chest and the familiar Vibranium shield clutched tightly against him.

The second man is standing in front of the doorway, blocking the only other way out of the apartment. He doesn't have a suit to make him stand out like the first. He's dressed mainly in black, but the silver metal that's replaced his hand is peaking through his sleeve. Even though can't see if now, I know it's not just his hand either. His whole arm has been replaced with the same Vibranium that's in the shield carried by the first man. I turn my attention back to him.

"Captain."

I nod my head lazily in greeting, then turn towards the second.

"Sidekick."

Both are looking at me warily, like I'm a time bomb waiting to go off at any moment. I guess in a way, I sort of am. Just not in the way they think.

"You need to come with us, (Y/n)." Steve says, taking a step towards me, still making sure to cut me off from my path to the open window.

I don't reply. Instead, I take the time to check how many bullets are in my second pistol. It's fully loaded. Thank god.

"We know that you're confused, probably scared." Steve continues, taking another step in my direction. "We can help you. We want to help you."

"Is that what you brought all your friends upstairs for?" I ask, my voice sounding dull, and bored. "To help me?"

"I know what you're going through." Bucky says, calmly, moving towards me slowly.