𝐈𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭.
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The infamous Winter Soldier and Morana are assigned on a mission once more, but things don't go as planned for them this time. To survive, they confront emoti...
The light snores of the others in the room comfort me, letting me know that I finally have a moment alone to grieve. Outside the living room window sits the moon on top of the light fog, calming and soothing. Unable to sleep, I rise from my sleeping bag on the hardwood floor, walk over to the window, and lift it. I step through it, onto the balcony and see the quiet view of the city. The thin, metal fence holds me back from the edge as I place my legs under it, letting them dangly over the ground, high up.
The city lights are out and silent as they stare back at me. Their gaze is stern, telling me not to break down, but with my thoughts running a mile a minute, I can't help but. Every part of my being is swarmed with the thoughts of Beverly. Warm liquid falls from my tear ducts, slipping down my cheeks and hanging on the edge of my chin before dropping to the floor, mixing with the spilt soil from a broken flower pot. More trickles down my face as a distant memory runs to the forefront of my mind.
My finger slips through the rough pages of my book, my eyes tracing every word as I repeat them out loud. My other hand softly strokes Beverly's hair, detangling the many knots embedded in there. She lies on my chest as I hold the book in front of my face, its spine facing the ceiling.
"In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort." I read aloud, following the lines from left to right.
Beverly leans closer to my chest, nuzzling her face into my arm and sighing peacefully. She closes her eyes, still listening to my every word, and letting them carry her to sleep. Like a sweet lullaby, they sing and drift her deeper and deeper into her slumber.
When her small breaths turn into slight snores, her body relaxes into mine, signalling that she's finally fallen asleep. I close the book, placing it on my bedside table. I pull up the blanket to cover both of our bodies. Just before I shift down the bed to face her and hug her body, I kiss the crown of her head, inhaling the smell of her hair - an infusion of coconut and rose. For the few minutes before I fall asleep with her, I watch her face relax as she dreams. Just her face alone makes me smile. My eyes become too heavy for me to fight it anymore, so I close my eyes, drifting into my dreamful slumber.
The tears fall harder as the guilt kicks in again, invading my body. The few cars zooming through the streets so early in the morning become a muffled noise in the background. The howling wind joins it, along with the croaking of the crickets and my sniffling as I try to retain the tears.
The knocking of the window interrupts my thoughts, making me turn my body in that direction and see the shadow of a figure standing in front of it. I wipe my eyes, clearing my foggy vision, and see Steve open the window and stick his head out, looking at me, concerned.
"Nat found something."
"Coming." I stand up.
I follow him through the window and back into the living room, seeing a vintage lamp turned on beside the couch and Sam and Natasha sitting in front of the laptop. When they hear my footsteps walking into the room, they turn their heads, both looking nervous. Steve and I join them, gathering around the laptop, and waiting for their next moves.
"Nat, tell Buck what you found." Steve orders.
"Before I tell you." She looks up at me. "I don't know where she is right now. But, I found out that she has a mission. I know when it is, what it is, and where it is."
"Mission?" Steve asks.
"Yeah. They've defiantly whipped her brain for her do to it."
"What's her mission?" Steve questions, nervously.
"An assassination. To kill The Winter Soldier." Nat reveals.
All their heads turn to me, watching my reaction carefully. My body droops, all my nerves failing to keep me upright. Just before my knees give way, I sit on the couch, not letting myself drop to the floor and cry in front of them.
From experience, I know how ruthless, determined, and dangerous Morana can be when given a mission. She gets the job done - no matter what she needs to do. Her powers make her unstoppable and there is almost nothing to bring her back from that killer mindset. Nothing strong enough to put in a syringe that I have on me, that is. But, I can't do that to her. That would be an absolute last resort. No matter how scared the thought of having to fight and stand against her makes me feel, I know that I need to get her back. Back to me for good.
"We need a plan and we need one fast." Steve grabs my shoulder, breaking my thought process.
"We need to make her remember." I look at them, individually. "Remember me."
