Heyyy, if you've already read this chapter, here's an edit I forgot to add in earlier!
If you're new, read on!
Wow! 20K reads on the one year anniversary of Endgame and me starting this book!? How insane! Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me this far. It's going to be so sad when this book ends 3-4 chapters from now! (And don't hate me once you read the end of this one. It's been in the draft since the beginning, I swear!) ;)
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§Ｍｙｓｔｅｒｉｏｕｓ Ｍｏｔｉｖｅｓ§
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p.o.v: Steve
I woke up to a feeling of dizziness more intense than anything I'd ever experienced in my life. Even more than riding the Cyclone at Coney Island, and I remember that day like it was yesterday. The cawing of the seagulls, the rough grains of sand beneath my feet, the rays of sunlight reflecting off the water and blinding me in the eyes. I could almost hear Bucky's voice saying "Oh, gee," as I bent over a nearby trash can to empty my stomach of all of the popcorn and soda I had consumed before the ride.
"Bad idea Rogers," he said as he looked into the can with disgust.
"You think?" I snapped as I gripped onto the sides of the metal, and he put a hand on my shoulder as he joked about me getting revenge on him later.
I looked up at him with determination in my eyes. "You bet I will."
Our laughs echoed in my ears as I opened my eyes, and the memory dissolved from my mind like rain falling on fresh paint. My surroundings were so blurry that I couldn't tell the difference between the ceiling and the floor, and when I tried to sit up, a strong mythical force pushed me back down.
"Don't— try to get up," a voice advised softly. "Your neurons are still fusing back together."
"My what?" I asked in a jumble.
The voice didn't answer, but instead began to fade away as darkness overtook me again, this time heavy and dreamless. When I woke up the second time, I felt like I had just jumped in a pool.
I raised my head and saw all the tactical gear I was wearing had been stripped away, leaving my black pants and shirt. They both clung to my skin, and when I wiped my forehead, I saw my hand was streaked with sweat. "What the hell?" I muttered.
Someone was standing over me, and when my eyes finally focused in, I recognized the brown hair and eyes. "Do you think you can sit up?" She asked, and the British accent told me it was Peggy.
I tried to sit up from the couch in our apartment, and it took all the breath out of my lungs. "Oh my God," I whispered as the dizziness slowly began to subside in waves. "What the hell happened?"
"You were stuck with a neuron degenerative," Peggy explained. "It turns off all of the areas of the brain by disconnecting all neuron transmissions. You're lucky you have regenerative cells or you would've been brain dead back at the transport."
I pressed a finger into each of my eyes as the past events came back to me. "HYDRA had.. this kind of weapon in their possession? Wh— how? Why?"
"All very good questions. If you bear with me, I think I might also have the answers." She took away her hand from my shoulder, and I traced my eyes up her arm and to her face where she was looking at me with a relieved smile. Combined with the curled hair that fell down her face and the deep brown eyes gazing down at me, it was easy to believe she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
Peggy chuckled softly, and when she looked away, I realized I had thought that last part out loud.
"Um.. Can I..." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Take a.. shower, before you tell me everything you know?"
After a moment of hesitation, she nodded and reached down to help me up. When I finally got to my feet, I noticed her hands were lingering on the sides of my body, as if afraid to let me stand on my own.
I looked down at her face and saw her expression clouded over in worry.
"Hey," I whispered, reaching up a hand and caressing it down her cheek and across her jaw. "I'm okay."
I felt her head move up and down, but her hands stayed put anyway. "I.. didn't know what what was going to happen to you," she whispered, and the longer I glanced between both her eyes, the more she appeared to be on the verge of tears. "Of course I began to assume the worst." She turned her head away.
"Well, it feels like it's going away now," I assured her, and I took one of her hands and wrapped it inside my own.
"You feel really cold," she warned, her brows still furrowed in doubt.
I loosened my grip. "I need a shower."
She glanced around my face for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Alright," she said, beginning to step away. "Think you can manage it?"
"Mmm." I stepped forward and closed the space she had created. "Might need some help."
She looked over at me knowingly, her expression trying to soften as I pulled her back into my chest. Her body still felt tense, and I ran my hands up and down her arms to calm her. "Peg, relax," I whispered as I pressed my lips against her forehead, then moved down to her temple, her cheek. Her jaw.
"No, it's not that," she whispered in an exhale, and when my mouth covered hers, it took a moment for her to regain her train of thought. "Steve," she said into my mouth as my touch made her grip onto my arms. "Steve, there's something you should know." She surrendered in another moment of bliss. Then, "It's important."
I loosened my arms around her waist as I slowly broke away, my eyes asking her what she could be talking about.
She took a few reluctant steps back, and I watched as she walked over to the kitchen table and showed me the box of files she managed to steal in our escape. There were several vials of the neurodegenerative on the table, which explained why she had known what it was.
As I walked closer, I saw the box had an assortment of letters written on it.
𝐿𝑅𝑆𝐷𝐹𝑁𝐵𝐻𝑂𝐹// секретный
"What does that word on the right mean?"
"Classified," she said as she moved around the table, her breathing still returning to normal. "I was searching through my old chemical records to try to match something with the serum. It doesn't look to be connected to those letters on the box." She thumbed through the files for a second. "But as I was sorting through, I had a feeling.. this might." She pulled her hand out of the box, and out with it, a dark scarlet cover with a star I knew all too well.
I must've gone white as a sheet, because Peggy's eyes locked onto me as if expecting me to lose consciousness again. "Steve? Are you alright?"
I tried to stay on my feet as I stared at the book. "I never thought I'd..." I had trouble finding my voice and had to start again. "I never thought I'd see that again." I cautiously began to step toward it.
"You've seen this before?" She asked.
"Yeah. Years ago, before Bucky and I escaped from Siberia to Wakanda." My fingers were trembling ever so slightly as I took the rough leather book. I peeled it open and saw only about a third was filled. The last time I had held it, additional pages had been added in to contain all the information about Bucky's missions.
I swallowed thickly as I flipped through what was written. "Bucky never translated any of the Russian for me. Said it wasn't important." My chest tightened, and I glanced over the book as if his pain could be seen on the pages. "Honestly.. I think he was just ashamed."
Peggy gazed at me for a long time as she let the sentence sink in. "Well, there's a name in here I think you'll recognize," she said eventually, and she turned to one of the first pages for me. Most of it was jargon, but one box-shaped name stood out at the top.
инструктор: 𝐸𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑎 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑒 𝑁𝑜𝑏𝑎𝑘𝑜𝑣.
"What does this mean?" I asked, pointing to the word on the left.
"It says..." Peggy broke off to lick her lips, the word teetering on the edge of her tongue. "instructor," she finished as she avoided my eyes.
The air left my lungs just as it suddenly left the room. "What?" I asked, my voice strained.
Peggy took the book from me. "The beginning of the book seems to resemble a diary of sorts," she said as she scanned through the pages like she had already read it earlier. "It's filled with programming language, fight patterns, behavior documentations." She shook her head, hesitant to go on. "Most of the writing is from a woman. I can tell."
I could feel my blood pounding in my ears as I tried to make sense of this. "She... trained him?"
Peggy's face twisted as she forced herself to admit the truth. "She definitely helped with.. what looks like the fight training and psychology."
The growing fire in my chest had caused my face to go numb. "Psychology?"
"Yes. There are entries of her connecting with him— gaining his trust so she could find these words, um.." She flipped through a couple pages, then stopped to recite what she saw. "Желание—"
"Longing," I said, my expression blank.
A frown began to spread onto Peggy's face. "How did you—"
"I've heard them before. They're the words they used to control him." The inferno in my chest licked into my throat. "Nobakov did this," I realized under my breath.
"She— might've been manipulated," Peggy suggested. "No one in the Red Room was treated humanely. Elena among them."
"But no, she's.. a reason he... became what he became." I lowered my head, my eyes closing as I tried not to imagine what she did to him. What she let them do to him.
"The.. serum is mentioned in here," Peggy continued after the silence. "It seems it was used to seduce Barnes after his missions. Explains why it had that kind of effect on you."
I nodded, although I couldn't hear what she was saying over the pounding of my heart. "What happened to Elena," I asked I leaned on the table. "How'd she get to New York?"
"Um.." Peggy flipped to the very end of the writing. "I haven't read that far yet. From the last entry, it looks like she completed the program in 1946, but.." her eyes narrowed. "There's no confirmation of the... церемония. Ceremony." She looked up from the book. "Ceremony?"
I shook my head strongly as things I wanted to forget came rushing back like the wave of a tsunami.
"Steve?" Peggy asked, alarmed at my physical distress.
When my head went still, my voice was dull and lifeless. "At the end of every program, they have a ceremony where... they sterilize the woman chosen as the Black Widow. They do it to.. take away anything else that could become more important than the mission."
This shocked Peggy so deeply that I could hear her breathing quicken. "Oh, my God," she said, covering her mouth with her hand. She looked up at me. "How did you know?"
As much as I fought against it, I began to see the outline of her face. "Someone I once knew," I said, gripping the table until my knuckles were white. "It— happened to her." My eyes closed as my subconscious brought back the memory of when she told me.
It was in the middle of the night, in a mold-ridden hotel room in Paris, back when we were on the run after fleeing Germany. I remember her saying she was sorry after she told me, and I wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the tears she had let fall or the time it took for her to finally tell me. But it didn't matter what it was because she never needed to apologize for something in which she had no control over. And when I told her exactly that, a sarcastic smile broke onto her face. "Yeah, right," she replied as she used a sleeve to wipe at her cheeks. "But what about what happens because of it?"
I remember shaking my head after she had said that. Natasha always had a hard time seeing herself as the victim, and it was only recently that Bucky had started seeing himself as one too.
"Steve," Peggy said as I was brought out of my thoughts.
I opened my eyes, and the image of the Paris hotel room blurred together like watercolors just before melting away altogether.
"Look at this," she said in a grave tone, and she gave the book to me with an equally serious expression. "This is where someone else's handwriting begins. It's a list of all the people the Winter Soldier killed."
"Yeah, what about it?"
Peggy looked stricken. "Read the.. last page of names."
My eyebrows furrowed as I scanned through them, and I got halfway down the first column before her name appeared again, this time slashed through with a thick dark line.
E̶L̶E̶N̶A̶N̶O̶B̶A̶K̶O̶V̶
I ran my finger across the name like I couldn't believe my eyes. "What?" I breathed. "How is this here?"
"I don't know," Peggy said, equally dumbfounded. "It's also the only name in the book that's crossed off. It might be because they found out she was still alive. Who knows."
"When did they think she was dead?" I asked, my mouth dry as a result of my parted lips. I set the book down slowly as I tried to understand. "This doesn't make any sense. The SHIELD files said she died of pneumonia as a result of hypothermia."
"I know, but how do we know those weren't tampered with?" She looked away, exhaling a labored breath. "Look, there are a few more files in here documenting Barnes's missions. Maybe I'll find something in there."
"Okay," I replied, anxious as I eventually left her to shower off the uneasy feeling of the serum. However, I quickly realized as I stood under the water that the knot in my stomach wasn't because of that. It was all the answers we had found despite having none of the questions to make sense of them. And when I returned to the kitchen, Peggy was in the exact same place I left her, her head bent over the countless number of files as she read through them.
"Anything?" I asked as I fished out a mug from the assortment of dishes in the sink. I rinsed it with water and set it under the coffee maker as I prepared to make a new batch.
She kept her head down. "Just stuff from the last few weeks. And some future missions."
"Future missions?" I repeated, slightly intrigued.
"Yes," she rushed as she suddenly finished reading. She jumped up from her chair and moved to show me a cluster of papers in her hands. "Steve— this intel says that there are a massive cluster of agents that are soon to leave the country near Westbrook, Connecticut."
I took the papers to get a closer look. "Seriously?"
"Yes. It's happening tomorrow night."
"Wh— How did we not know about this?"
Peggy glanced over the pages. "Looks like they've been organizing it for months using written communication only. Close to 200 agents are planning to be shipped off. Including Barnes."
Hearing his name made my stomach knot up again. "Do you.. think we can catch up with em' in time?"
Peggy's eyebrows raised. "If we do we can't fight them alone. I called Mason and told him to come over so we could explain everything—"
"Wait, you told Mason to come here?" I pressed. "Why, why did you do that? Our place is supposed to be classified—"
"Steve, we don't have time to meet in some dark alleyway across town. This is too important."
I opened my mouth to respond, but a knock on the door beat me to it.
We both glanced over at the door, unsettled by the fact that someone other than the two of us was standing just outside.
"This is a bad idea," I mumbled lowly, and Peggy pressed her hand against my arm to silence me. She started to move towards the door, and my pulse began to quicken as I watched her step closer and closer.
She began to turn the doorknob, and when she cracked open the door, she hesitated. "Start stepping through," she demanded.
The person stuck their black shoe through the crack, and as they started pushing the door wider, Peggy reached out, grabbed a fist full of their clothes, and pulled them into the apartment, slamming their body up against the wall.
"Jesus, Carter!" Mason yelled as the wind was knocked out of him. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and after a tense moment, Peggy only slightly began to relax her grip.
"Sorry— just had to make sure."
"I know, but geez," he panted, smoothing out his shirt where she had taken a hold of him. It took a minute for him to notice me watching from the kitchen, and when he did he almost looked embarrassed. "Hello, Steve," he said awkwardly, and his eyes broke away to take in our apartment that looked a lot more lived in than the first night we had crashed here. Newspapers on the living room table, dishes in the sink along with a couple laying around the apartment. The fancy record player in the corner had only been with us a week; a pity gift from Howard after he told Peggy and I that we would have to stay under the radar a couple months longer.
"Welcome to our humble home," I greeted, my voice tinted with sarcasm. I held up a pot of dark liquid that I had just finished brewing. "Coffee?" I proposed with a smile that was just forced enough for Peggy to notice.
I gave her a quick glance. She might not be seeing him as an intruder, but I still was.
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p.o.v: Peggy
"Are you sure this is gonna happen?"
"As much as I can be. These are official documents that were being transported to covert HYDRA operatives."
"Yes, but do you really think after learning the box is gone that they're gonna go ahead with the operation anyway?"
"They've been planning this for far too long. They'll think it's worth the risk."
Mason sighed, setting down his chipped navy coffee cup. "Yeah. Now the question is, do we?"
My face scrunched together in annoyance as I leaned across the kitchen table towards him. "Do we?" I enunciated. "Wh— have you been been listening to a word I've been saying? Two hundred agents, a Soviet assassin—"
"Yes, I heard you. But I don't think you understand what this means, Peggy—" Mason cut himself off as his eyes cut over to Steve. He had been listening in on the conversation, arms crossed and gaze steady as the beams from the hanging table light failed to reach his face, obscuring it in shadow.
Mason must've caught onto his harsh tone, for his voice was quieter when he spoke again. "Look. Before I came over here, I was at the headquarters starting a division meeting. All agents, all supervisors from the New York area. What are they gonna think when I come back to them with this kind of order? They're gonna wanna know where it came from or they're not gonna execute it."
"Well couldn't you.. make something up like you have been?"
"No, I can't. All the agents I trust to put it on were all there in that room with me."
"Dammit," I muttered, sighing in disappointment as my eyes fell to the table. I scanned my brain for liable solutions, but quickly found that was only going to be one. I hesitated to say it, as if the longer I waited the more likely I was to find a different answer. But it was no use.
"It looks like all you've got is the truth, then."
This made Steve's head turn towards me. "Wait, what?" He asked, his first words since sitting down.
I turned and met his eyes, my eyebrows angled inwards. "Mason's right. We can't ask for this kind of back up without a reliable source. This box is it. We can't let this opportunity slip out of our grasp."
"Yeah, but—" Steve leaned forward into the light. "This means exposing.. everything we've been doing. Hill could lose his job, we could be resigned—"
"Not if we're successful," I enlightened. "If we bring them Barnes and two hundred agents... there's no way that would happen."
"In the long run maybe not," Mason inclined as he tilted his head to the side. "But right after they learn you were doing this without government authorization, I wouldn't think they'd allow you back in immediately. Not until Mr. Stark and I sort it all out."
Steve's eyes left mine and went to Mason. "You think.. her and I would have to leave the country?" I felt his hand cover my own under the table.
Mason raised his eyebrows. "Possibly."
I looked over at Steve, my features drawn as we both considered the prospect of being fugitives. We knew it was light years away from what either of us wanted.
Mason leaned forward and put emphasis on each of his words. "So. Peggy. I ask you again... Do you think it's worth the risk?"
I looked at Steve and glanced between both of his eyes, trying to find some kind of solid ground just as he was. And yes, it was true that we had agreed to settle down after finding Barnes, but if this was how it happened, would that life even be possible? If so, how long would we have to wait until it was?
I closed my eyes as now, in this moment, I was tempted more than ever to be rid of all my ties with SHIELD once and for all. Severed from all the secrecy, all the lies. It was driving me to insanity, and I was tired of having to chose between my love for Steve and my fear of losing him. Now, all I wanted was to lose myself in him and never look for a way out because, truthfully, he was all I ever needed. As long as I had him, I would be more than happy.
I would be complete.
My eyes opened, and this time a smile was forming on my lips. "Yes," I whispered.
Steve frowned, afraid of what I was putting on the line. "Really?"
My smile grew as I let my heart speak. "I just need you Steve. It doesn't matter where, or how. You just have to be there, and I'll be alright." I squeezed his hand in reassurance.
He nodded, his own smile forming as he reciprocated my words with his eyes.
I glanced at his lips, but then leaned away as I absently remembered Mason sitting at the table. "Besides," I said, raising my voice back to its normal volume. "You did promise Barnes you'd rescue him. And I did promise I'd help you." My words loomed in silence for a minute, and they seemed to grow more definite as they did so.
"So it's decided?" Mason asked.
I began to nod, and Steve was quick to follow.
"Alright then," he said, beginning to scoop up the piles of files. "I guess I'll get all of this back to headquarters and.. turn myself in." He gave us a tight smile, reaching for the Winter Soldier book.
"Actually—" Steve interjected, holding out a hand. "Do you mind, leaving that with us?"
Mason paused, blinking at the blood red book. "S-Sure," he obliged, putting everything else in the box. "This'll be more than enough." He glanced up towards the door before looking to me. "I do have some.. extra weapons in the car though if you guys want em'. Glocks, knives, this weird poison gun I stole from the weapons lab that looks like it could be a lot of fun."
My mouth spread into a smile. "Sure, I'll come take a look."
The two of us got up from the table, and Steve waved the red book up in the air. "I'll start packing the bags," he said, but I nodded at him before shutting the door.
Outside, the city was bright and alive despite the rays of dawn just barely peaking over the horizon. Cars honked and tires could be heard against the road as Mason and I approached his long black Cadillac. "They should be somewhere in here," he mumbled as he fumbled for his keys to unlock the trunk.
I leaned against his car, looking at him as I crossed my arms. "I honestly can't believe you've done all this."
He scoffed as the trunk jutted open. "Neither can I."
The morning wind moved my hair in front of my face, and I brushed it back with my hand. "Do you regret it?"
He had started loading the guns into a black duffel bag. "Regret what?"
"Helping me," I said.
He narrowed his eyes before shaking his head. "No," he answered simply.
"Why not?"
"Because I would've never gotten to know one of the great founders of SHIELD as much as I have," he declared, shutting the truck with a short bang and moving over to me.
I scoffed faintly. "I don't know how much of that person is left, really. Hell, what founder goes on the run from their own organization?"
He gave me a half-smile. "Not many," he joked as he held the bag out to me.
I took it from his hands, avoiding his eyes. "Still. You could get fired."
He made a dismissive noise. "It'd be worth it knowing what you and Steve were able to do for us. Even if I got laid off because of it." He glanced at me, a shy smile flickering on his face. "Besides, if I get fired maybe I'll be able to have that family I've been wanting."
I grinned. "Well, best of luck to your wife then. Let's hope she never finds out how much of a handful you are. At least until you've got a ring on her finger, yeah?"
He nodded, his eyes sparkling. "I'll make sure."
A chuckle escaped my throat, and as I continued to look at him, it began to fade away. He was.. reminding me of something. The curly black hair, the sideways smirk, the dark twinkling eyes.
Daniel.
Lord, I hadn't thought of him in ages. Why was he appearing now?
I looked over Mason and suddenly made the connection. They had looked so much alike it was almost like I was standing before my ex-fiancé now.
My heart rate spiked and my stomach flattened as I imagined him standing in front of me. "Why did you do that to me, Peggy?" He yelled, shaking my shoulders as his eyes shone with tears. "Why did you tell me to trust you?"
I swallowed hard, and my eyes cut to anywhere else but Mason. "Thank you for the weapons," I murmured, stepping towards him to give him a hug goodbye. Of course, when he embraced me, it was like I was in Daniel's arms again. God, what was happening?
"Stay safe," he warned as he always did, and I could almost feel myself turning to stone as his warmth shook me to the core.
I licked my dry lips and removed myself from his embrace, still close enough to see the mature details in his face. God, it was like Mason had been sent here just to remind me of him. How had I not noticed this until now?
I was being shaken tremendously by the resemblance, so much so that when he moved in to kiss me, I didn't even catch it.
Instead, I just stood there, frozen like stone, as he cradled my face and kissed me like he had been holding back from the moment he saw me walking into the headquarters four months ago. He was cold and rude then, but now all I could feel was his overwhelming release of passion. Had that all just been a façade?
Nonetheless, when he backed away, I could tell that the guilt was already setting into him. "I'm sorry... Peggy," he said as his eyes traced the ground. "I just.. couldn't let you go without doing that." He exhaled a shaky breath and stared out at the city. "Now I can." He gave me one more look of longing, and then moved past me to get in the car, turning the ignition and disappearing into the maze of streets beyond.
I stood there for a long time after that, trying to grasp what had actually just happened. Why the hell didn't I stop him? Why didn't I back away? It wasn't that I was attracted to him or anything. It was that he had reminded me of a love I once knew. A love that faded away after my true one returned.
But the shock of the moment combined with the memory of Daniel must've rendered me defenseless, and it just so happened to be the moment where Mason took his chance. God, what must he be thinking of me now?
"Peggy?" someone said behind me, and I turned to see Steve standing outside the hallway a couple feet away from where the door to our apartment was. His stood rigid as a board, and the question in my mind suddenly shifted.
What would Steve think of me now?
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