Gunfire, the clear source of my awakening, sent a ringing throughout my eardrums, denying them the chance to process any other sounds. With my ears out of the equation, I scrambled for cover, knowing my eyes were not at all fast enough to dodge incoming bullets.
I didn't have to try very hard to remove my body from the couch, as Steve, who I later learned was standing behind me, had already been in the process of prying my body over the couch. I hit the hardwood floor roughly on my knees. Steve nudged my thigh with his hand, pushing my body forward. I crawled into the kitchen.
The gunfire ceased.
"The next target could be us," he whispered.
"'Next' ?" I repeated, stuttering. "Next? Where's Fury?"
I tried to crawl over his body, wary about the condition of our boss. Steve threw his hand out, wrapping it around my bicep. All it took was a slight shake of his head to break my calm attitude. I whispered a variety of words, pestering him to let go of my arm.
"Nobody deserves to die alone!" I had said, and Steve's grip loosened, a little, but enough that I took the chance to run. He wasn't able to grab me again.
On the rug, bleeding profusely from his wounds, I found Fury, hand twitching against his chest. Crawling on my stomach, I grabbed his hand to alert him of my presence. I popped to my feet, gripped the collar of his jacket, and dragged him into the safety of the kitchen.
I cradled his hands in my own, aiming to comfort him in the time he had left. His hands didn't release from being clenched. I ignored it, at first, thinking it was his way of condoning the pain. I was wrong. His last bit of strength was used to open his hand, revealing a hard drive to Steve and I. Enough time was not granted to ask what it was. At last, his erratically moving chest fell still.
I knew nothing else I was capable of doing except staring blankly at his closed eyes, knowing that his life was not the only thing we lost. Along with Fury went our only chance at saving S.H.I.E.L.D. from being torn apart from the inside and out.
Steve's reaction differed. He bowed his head for a single moment, then he was on his feet, scooping his shield from the floor.
"Clara, we have to go," he said softly.
"You go. I'll stay," I muttered.
He didn't argue, verbally, at least. His feet tapped back and forth against the floor, hesitant to leave.
"Go," I said again. I didn't bother to face him. "Find the person who did this."
Steve needed nothing more from me to leave.
When he left, in came a woman in pink scrubs. Her gun lowered instantly after recognizing my face. She slid the gun into the waistband of her pants.
"Foxtrot's down, I repeat, Foxtrot is down. Send an ambulance," she ordered into a walkie-talkie.
"Do we have a twenty on the shooter?" asked a voice.
"Captain's in pursuit," I said.
The blonde crouched on the opposite side of Director Fury. Her sleek fingers dug underneath the skin on his neck, checking for a pulse.
"My name is Agent 13. I was assigned to protect Captain Rogers," she introduced.
"Yeah, you're doing a splendid job," I praised sarcastically. I rubbed my eyes. "That was mean. Sorry. On whose orders?"
Agent 13 nodded at the still body of the Director. She withdrew her hand.
The arrival of the ambulance called for a rushed movement of Fury from the floor, into a gurney, then into the truck. I climbed in with him. A diagnosis from the medic said the only way left to save him was an emergency surgery. I stayed out of the way as they prepped him.
At the hospital, a nurse directed me to where I was able to watch the operation. I sat with my back to the glass window, tapping my head against it. Focusing on keeping the beat distracted me from thinking about the aftermath of my life, of S.H.I.E.L.D., if Fury wasn't able to be saved.
Natasha Romanoff was the first person to arrive. Steve followed, then Maria Hill. All three remained too distraught at the idea of losing Fury to greet myself, or each other.
"What happened?" snapped Natasha.
"People posed as city cops attacked us. We were almost off the radar, until..." I stopped. I closed my eyes, remembering every detail possible about the man who tried to murder us.
"Until?" pressed Maria.
"This man appeared out of nowhere. Wore a face mask, dressed in all black. He walked with a swagger," I said slowly, remembering. "It was as if—"
"—his left side was heavier than his right." finished Natasha under her breath.
I opened my eyes. "That's exactly it. How did you—"
"You have your portals," she said, diverting the conversation. "Why didn't you use them?"
"I was panicking. I couldn't think," I said.
"Do you mean to tell me he is your fault?" she asked quietly.
"Natasha," warned Steve.
Her hardened eyes flashed to me, a final time, before she refocused on the surgery. I looked away for a few seconds, enough time for her to realize what was occurring inside of the room. She stormed out. After her went Maria, who left with a hand over her mouth and nose.
I didn't need to look at Fury's condition to understand what happened. My head fell into my hands. Emotions churned inside of my stomach, creating butterflies, producing a high feeling of anxiety. Release came from crying, something my eyes refused to do. I reached a level of panic, one that kept me staring into the distance, lost beyond words could describe.
Warm hands settled on the caps of my knees. I lowered my hands from my eyes. Steve raised the corner of his lips, his eyes drooped with an incredibly amount of hidden emotion.
"Clara, I promise you, we'll find who did this to him. Together."
"We won't."
"You can get through this--"
"No, I mean, we can't," I interrupted. I shook my head. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised. The single person who could fix that is now dead. Whoever compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. probably killed him. And we were the last people with him. That means--"
"We're the first suspects," concluded Steve.
Any urge to salvage my job, my life, meant absolutely nothing. Utter frustration made my body tremble. Well, until I realized who was kneeling in front of me.
"Captain America," I said. I repeated his name four different times, in four different tones.
Steve's forehead creased. "Yes. Yeah. That's me."
"You're here. In front of me."
"You're correct," he confirmed, "Are you feeling all right?"
"You're Captain America, y-you fight for what you believe in, against all odds, all circumstances. You would never give up without trying."
"Are you speaking about me or yourself?" asked Steve.
"We're going to fix S.H.I.E.L.D," I told him. "You and I. I don't know how, but if we do it together, we can. And if not, then we stick together. If you want to. I don't know. We're sorta friends. I would count us as colleagues?" I asked. I shook my head and held out my hand to him. "What do you say, Cap?"
He stared, his lips split, his forehead creased. "I..."
"Just say yes," I assured. "It's for a good cause."
"What's our first move?" asked Steve, shaking my hand.
"We get out of here before somebody can take us in," I said.
Steve held out his hand again, I took it, he helped me from the ground. We exited the viewing room and navigated through the mass of Agents. His hand remained intertwined with my own.
In the lobby of the hospital, he started whispering in my ear, telling me to run to his apartment, pack bags. He stopped himself short, as a voice rang out to our retreating figures: "Whoa, whoa, whoa. You two goin' somewhere?"
"I think we deserve some time to grieve alone," I said, sniffling.
"Not so fast," said Rumlow. He pointed at Steve. "You're wanted at the Triskeleon. Pronto."
"Just a second," nodded Steve.
"Now, Cap," said Rumlow.
Steve snapped an agitated, "Okay," in Rumlow's direction. Taking his time, Steve casually turned his back, hiding my small frame behind his broad shoulders.
"Get out of there quick," I said quietly. "I'll meet you in the lobby of HQ."
"Don't be late," said Steve.
"Never," I promised.
Our interlocked hands broke. Steve left me behind and followed Rumlow into a S.H.I.E.L.D. issued car.
My escape led to the bathroom of the hospital, the single place free of security cameras. I hopped through a portal into Steve's apartment, where I stealthily lurked through the place, tossing useful items into a backpack I stole from his closet. From under his couch, I dug up the weapons I previously stored.
Suddenly, I came to a stop. No matter where we went in the world, money was a necessity. Our credit cards were kicked from the equation, as S.H.I.E.L.D. would no doubt be monitoring them.
I turned to Steve's bedroom. A lift of his mattress revealed exactly what I predicted: scattered $100 dollar bills.
"You can change the time, but you can't change the man," I muttered as I shoved the money into the backpack.
I zipped the bag shut. I adjusted it tightly to my back. From his bedroom, I jumped through a portal, landing in the lobby of the Triskeleon.
Workers in the main lobby had gotten used to my spontaneous portals in, as I did it almost every day. It was normal for heads to turn, ensuring it was me, before their work resumed.
But that day, the eyes in the room didn't leave me. I knew exactly why.
I was careful to move only my eyes in the search for Steve. I didn't dare to move my head. Then, from the woman walking in front of me, came a panicked scream. I followed her pointed finger into the air.
Down from the sky, a circular figure fell rapidly. It gained speed and distance. Three distinctive colors caught my eye, then I found a person curled behind the shield.
I threw my arms over my head. I heard the shield pierce the glass ceiling. At the deafening crack of the tile as it and Steve hit flat land, I jogged to him. I looked into the sky. I spotted the shattered window he jumped from; my jog turned into a sprint.
"Yeah, we gotta go," I said. I tugged at the collar of his suit, trying to lend a hand at bringing him to his feet. It was no success. "Grand entrance, Cap, but we seriously have to go."
"Clara?" he wheezed, lifting his head.
"Yes, it's me, I'm here. Please get up," I begged.
At last, it made sense. Rumlow's aggressive tone, Steve being attacked in the elevator, myself being intently watched from the second I reached the property. Whomever was behind the infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. assumed Steve and I knew. Hesitancy didn't exist when they added our names to their kill list.
On the count of three, I pulled, he pushed, and he was on his feet. We sprinted from the scene, myself behind his wobbly figure, giving slight nudges to his back every time he looked as though he was about to fall.
"I'm not using my portals!" I called to him. Too many security cameras lined the walls.
Into the garage we went, in search of his motorcycle. I barely had time to hop on before the wheels were screeching against the pavement. I wrapped my arms around his abdomen tightly, my head resting on his shoulder to watch ahead of us.
If we could make it into the daylight, we had a greater chance of escaping. There wasn't a chance in the world S.H.I.E.L.D. would kill the Captain America in broad daylight.
Without any warning, Steve launched the motorcycle through the air. For every second those two wheels were in the air, I screeched, and worst: directly in his ear. I heaved in a giant breath when we were safely stationed on the road.
"I am so sorry!"
In our mad dash from the garage, a quinjet had been released into the air. It reached our location on the bridge, its nose staring at us. From the speakers, the pilot yelled, "Stand down!"
Steve yanked the throttle, propelling us faster. "Listen to me, Clara! I'll take care of the quinjet. On my word, you jump off this bike, and you run. Don't stop."
"That's it?" I asked.
He nodded.
I maneuvered my body into a crouching position, my arms still tightly wrapped around Steve's shoulders.
"Jump!"
I dove from the motorcycle and into an entrance portal. Having positioned the exit portal horizontally, I fell through the air, landing hard on my feet. I sprinted.
It took no longer than thirty seconds for Steve to send the quinjet spiraling out of control. It crashed into the bridge. He had jumped before then, landing with his body crouched behind the shield. He stood, ready to run alongside me.
In the ground behind him, I opened a portal to his bedroom. I wasted no time separately jumping. I tackled him through the portal. We landed on his bed.
"Ouch," he groaned.
I huffed and closed the portal.
"I'll change," he said, shuffling into the bathroom. "But we have to go back to the hospital."
"Why?" I asked.
"I left something there."
"Something as in?"
"Uh..Your hard drive."
My mouth dropped. "You left my hard drive in a hospital? A public hospital?"
Sheepishly, he exited the bathroom. "It's in a vending machine."
I shook my head at him. "Let's just hope no one ate that candy."
Through the bathrooms we entered, using my portals. Loitering Agents covered every inch of the hospital, on high alert for our faces. Steve went alone. I was left to pace outside the bathroom doors.
Unexpectedly, he returned, shoving me into a bathroom. He crammed our bodies into a stall together.
"What took you so long?" I whispered.
"I found Natasha," he explained. "She gave me information about the man who killed Fury. She's going to stay here. For now, it looks like she's mourning."
I took notice of his chosen words. "Where are we going that Natasha can't join us?"
"We're going to find out what's on this," said Steve, wiggling the hard drive in the air.
I shook my head. "Steve, the minute we plug that into a computer, S.H.I.E.L.D. will know where we are. We won't have time to look at files."
"We work fast, then. Before they can catch us," said Steve.
"There are probably a dozen firewalls keeping that information safe," I guessed.
"Find where the drive was made. That's all I'm asking," he said.
"I'm nowhere near Natasha's level when it comes to hacking. We should ask her—"
"I don't trust her like I trust you," interrupted Steve, shaking his head, "Not yet. Natasha hasn't proven she's on our side. Look, I can't do this alone. I need your help with this."
In my heart, I knew I'd be safe with him. I trusted Steve. My problem was within myself. The mission he wanted to complete was once in which where I couldn't plan every detail out in my head, where I couldn't rely on a team to back me up. It was Steve and I against S.H.I.E.L.D. It was the riskiest situation I'd ever found myself in, and I was terrified. Steve knew it, although I didn't admit it, but he also knew I wouldn't leave him alone.
"What do you say?" he asked quietly.
"This is insane. I hope you know that," I pointed out.
Steve nodded. "To the mall we go."
I opened a portal for us to step through. In search on an Apple store, we walked, casually, on my part. Every step raised Steve's suspicion levels. His head whipped wildly at a loud noise, he power-walked through the thin crowd. He was asking to get caught.
Annoyed with his tenseness, I lunged for his bicep, slowing his speed. "Calm, cool, collected," I reminded him.
At last, we entered the Apple store. I chose a computer that faced a wall. Steve spotted the camera pointed directly at our chosen computer. He blocked our screen from it's view.
I flipped open the hard drive. "Once this is in, they'll be alerted immediately. From there, we have about ten minutes. Are you ready?"
"Are you?"
I forced a smile for him. Before I could think twice about what I was about to get myself into, I pushed the hard drive into the computer.
Steve watched, thoroughly impressed as I furiously typed away on the keyboard, destroying firewalls left and right. He must have thought I was a genius. That was not the case. I only knew how to break code because of my training.
Along came a whistling worker sauntering on the other side of the table. I eyed him, Steve caught on, and took a step closer to me, pretending to peer at the computer.
"Let me do the talking," I whispered.
"No, keep working," insisted Steve.
The worker came to us, ceasing the argument. "Hey! Can I help you with anything?"
"No, thank you," said Steve. "My... wife and I are looking for a place to go on our honeymoon."
I sent a smile towards the man, selling my part. "Yes. Married."
A buzz from the computer brought my attention back down. The firewall broke. Less than five minutes remained for me to sort through the files and find the coordinates of where the hard drive was made.
"That's cool. Where are you thinking of going?" the tech guy asked.
The green circle generalized to an area on the United States map. With each second, it began zooming in, closing in on a specific point.
Steve looked over my shoulder just as the state popped up. "New Jersey," he blurted.
"Hey, wait..." the tech guy peered closely at Steve.
I narrowed my eyes, my fingers slowly walking across the counter top. I was ready to grab the hard drive.
"I have the same exact glasses!" laughed the man.
"And you both look great in them," I complimented.
"I wish," the man scoffed, "Specimen."
Steve heard the final beep that signified I had found the exact location. "I know where that is," he mumbled in my ear.
I ripped the hard drive from the computer and shoved it into the inside of his jacket. Steve blurted a quick 'thanks' to the Apple employee as I dragged him from the store.
Steve kept his arm draped around my waist, both of us on the look out for Agents. To blend in, we walked at a normal pace.
I scanned the crowd for Agents by taking note of how people walked. Agents had a specific way of walking; shoulders broad, steps quick and long, hard looks on their faces. Looking for that walk led me to find Rumlow first.
"The standard tag team: two in front, two in back, a few circling around the levels," he explained, after I subtly pointed.
I hopped on the escalator, at the same time, Rumlow decided to get on. My heart thumping wildly, I turned to Steve.
"Don't panic," I said to myself, "Rumlow is coming the opposite way, what do we do?"
Steve gently took a hold of my waist. I know my face scrunched before he pressed his lips to mine. He kissed me with such delicacy and passion that I leaned all of my weight on him, entranced in just him.
But I was the one who pulled away first, rather quickly when I processed what had occurred. Without meeting his eyes again, I took his hand, weaving through the people on the escalator.
Rumlow missed us completely, as had the other Agents. We exited the mall.
"I've never been to New Jersey," I said. I looked around the street, aiming to find a quiet corner we could use to open a portal. In my search, I noticed Steve staring at me, lost. "I can't use a portal unless I know where I'm going. So, we might want to use a car, unless you plan on walking."
I found it amazing that the Captain America, the Star Spangled boy scout, knew how to successfully steal a car.
He shrugged when I asked him where he learned to do so.
Inside of the blue Chevy truck, it was quiet.
"Steve," I said. He glanced over. "I apologize about the awkward that followed our kiss."
"No, it's okay, I panicked," he assured. He paused. "Um.. How.. How was it for you?"
I turned my head, hiding my giggle.
"Surprisingly nice."
"Surprisingly?" he repeated.
"I mean, no offence, but it has been seventy years since you've kissed a girl."
Steve shook his head. "I enjoyed it as well, Clara."
"Thanks," I laughed.
"You know you are a great agent," he complimented, "I appreciate that you follow orders, I do. You've been patient with me on missions. For that, I'm grateful."
"It's no big deal. You haven't been too much of a bother," I joked.
Steve smiled. "When all of this blows over, I would like to take you out. On a proper date. As friends. Or more," he admitted shyly, "But it's completely fine if you don't--"
His rambling was beginning to make me nervous. I blurted out, "Yes. I will. I'll go on a date with you."
Steve looked over at me, his eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," I agreed, "I think I deserve dinner after being a fugitive with you."
He laughed. "Fair enough."