A New Dream

“Lucky!” Natasha called out before they left the tower’s valley. The dog had disappeared. Natasha frowned, and the Soldier looked at her with a furrowed brow.

“Why are you yelling?”

“There was a dog-- nevermind.” Natasha muttered. It was probably best that they didn’t have a palace dog with them.

After walking for hours, the Soldier surveying every part of his new surroundings while Natasha led the way in the direction of the kingdom. Every once and awhile he would grunt, then ask a question.

(“Hmph.”

“Yes?”

“What are those?”

“Deer.”

A short while later…

“Hmph.”

“Yes?”

“What is this?”

“A weeping willow tree.”

“Does it cry?”

“No.”

“Hmph.”)

“Are you hungry?” Natasha asked. “Do you even get hungry?”

The Soldier was silent.

“Well, I am. And I know there’s a great place somewhere here…” she took them down a different trail path, following the smell of a fireplace until they reached a

“I know it’s around here, somewhere…” Natasha pondered, looking around. “Ah, there it is, the Snuggly Duckling!” She gave the Soldier a sly smile. “Don’t worry, it’s a very quaint place, perfect for you.”

The Soldier grunted again.

“Especially with all that blood on your shirt. Don’t worry, you’ll fit in.” Natasha smoothed her hair and cracked her knuckles.

Several horses were tied up out front, and there was a barrel with a ruffed up dog laying out front. A sign on the barrel read, “drop ALL weapons here.” The soldier glanced inside to see one rusty dagger and a handful of bullets.

“Just don’t start any fights.” Natasha murmured before opening the door. A pool of conversation and deep voices came from inside. The Soldier blinked to adjust to the light, and took in the near-full pub. Natasha wrinkled her nose. “Luke! What the hell man, it smells so bad in here.”

“You gonna judge?” Luke Cage, previous grunt for hire now “reformed” bartender smiled wide at her. “You’re the one who chose to come here.”

“Touche,” Natasha smiled back. “Where’s Jessica?”

“Probably stopping a fight or picking one. It’s a 50-50 chance,” Luke said, shrugging as he cleaned a glass. “Who’s your friend?”

“More like a client.” Natasha sat down at the bar, while the Soldier stood behind and took in the room.

“I thought you didn’t do that anymore,” Luke frowned.

“Not that,” Natasha clarified. “I’m taking him to the kingdom, he needed a guide and I wanted some muscle on my side.”
“Rumor has it you need it.” A gravelly voice made Natasha smile even wider. Jessica Jones, in her signature style of last week’s pants and a comfortable blouse joined her husband behind the bar. “Did you really steal the--?”

“Shhhh,” Natasha shushed her. “Don’t need to start a commotion, do we? Besides, rumors are only rumors.”

“Hmm,” Jessica sized up the Soldier. “Where’d you find him?”

“In a dark corner,” Natasha glanced back at the Soldier. “Can I get some supplies for the trip? A little bit of food, a glass of water for now- and I’ll owe you a big favor if we can get him a new shirt and some shoes.”

“I’ll handle it,” Jessica said, filling a glass with water. “Tell your friend to take a seat, I’ll rummage around in the back and see what we got.”

“Thanks.” Natasha took a sip of water.

“You know your reward could be very welcoming to a lot of people in here…” Luke bent over and murmured.

Natasha frowned. “I know. I could use the money.”

“Your own reward money?” he laughed. “I’d love to see you sneak your way out of that, Widow.”

“Look, I’m this guy’s guide to the kingdom for a bit. And he definitely needs some more… not bloody clothes.”

“Jessica will find something.”

The Soldier sat down next to her, pulling his left sleeve over his hand.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the man behind the counter asked, making the Soldier looked up.

“Yes please,” he said, his voice gravelly.
“Luke!” A man called out, his face obscured by a red hood. “Get my new friend here a pint of your Power Brew! He looks like he needs one.” The Soldier looked over at the man, who grinned at him. Only the mouth and chin were visible, and they were covered with raised white scars and scabs. The rest of his face was covered with a red and black mask. “Hi, how ya doin’? The name’s Wade. Or el piscina de la muerta if you’re into that.”

“What?” the Soldier said.

“Where’re you from?” the man asked.

“Ignore him,” a deep gravelly voice said on the masked man’s other side. A burly man with large sideburns and thick arm hair took a long swig of his drink.

“Hey! I’m trying to talk to this guy here,” Wade said indignantly. “Don’t interrupt the process!”

The man snorted. “What process?”

“Just because you have the perfect guy, Wolfie, doesn’t mean we all are happy!”

The man choked on his drink, coughing and spluttering. “You-- shut--”

“Logan, are you alright?” There was no shortage of large muscular men in the place, it seemed. But this one wore no shirt, but a green tunic. Like the soldier, his feet were bare.

“Y-yeah, Herc. I’m ok.”

“Oooooooooooh save him, Hercules!” Wade giggled. “Save poor Logan!”

“Quit it, Wade, or else you’re gonna get a fist in your stomach.”
“Bring it on! Wait hold on I never got your name, cutie.”

“I’m--”

“Natasha freakin’ Romanoff,” a man in a long red coat came up and slid in between the Soldier and the Black Widow.

“Oh look,” Natasha smirked, taking a sip of her water. “It’s Star Prince.”

“Star Lord, sweetheart,” he smiled. “Luke, another round for me, the lady, and--” he looked the Soldier up and down. “Is that blood in your shirt?”

The Soldier grunted, watching the “Starlord” from behind his hair.

“Hey, Quill! I saw him first!” Wade said, grabbing the Soldier’s bicep. The Soldier jerked backwards, knocking the stool to the ground and ripping his arm out of Wade’s grasp.

“Alright, Wilson, back off,” Natasha said carefully.

“Hey! He’s cute and I’m lonely!” he cried out, throwing his hand over his eyes dramatically. “Am I the only one who still believes in love?”

“He’s not your type, Wilson,” Natasha folded her arms.

“Yeah, but this is,” Quill reached into his satchel and pulled out a wanted poster for Widow. “Look, I like you Natasha, but I need some cash. You know how it is.”

“Look, we can work this out--” Natasha began before Peter was suddenly jerked backwards and upwards, as the Soldier picked him up by the collar. He moved smoothly, walking over quickly and slamming Quill up against a wall, making the bar go quiet as they watched.

“Put me down!” Quill barked out.

“Gentlemen, please!” Luke shouted.

“Leave us alone,” the Soldier growled.

“Alright big guy, what are you gonna do?” Quill taunted. The Soldier let go with one hand, still easily holding him up. He drew back a closed fist, his eyes narrow and focused.

“Oh no,” Quill started to struggle. “Not the nose, not the nose, not the nose!”

“Soldier!” Natasha’s voice rang out. “Put him down!”

There was silence.

The Soldier flinched, then he let go. Quill dropped to the floor. The Soldier turned around, looking at who had been watching.

“I don’t know where I am,” he started quietly, finding his voice, “and I need her to take me to the Kingdom. So leave us alone.” There was another pause as people exchanged glances and murmurs.

“Maaaaaan!” Wade jumped up, pointing at the Soldier. “It’s his dream, you guysl! Look at how cute that is!”

It was that moment when Jessica Jones kicked open the cellar door, carrying a large basket. “Alright, big guy. Let’s see what we got here,” she said before looking around at the situation: Quill shakily standing up, the audience around Natasha, Wade and the Soldier. “What did I miss?”

★★★★★★★★★★★

Jessica quickly broke up the crowd, making sure Peter Quill had a large drink in his hand before gently putting a hand on the Soldier’s arm. He flinched.

“C’mon. Let’s go see if these clothes fit. Is that okay?” she asked carefully.

The Soldier paused. “...Yes.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she said, turning and walking up the stairs. The Soldier looked at Natasha.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, holding up her hands. “Go get some new clothes.”

The Soldier looked at her carefully, then grunted.

“Do you want me to come?” Natasha asked. The Soldier nodded, turning and following Jessica up the stairs.

“You don’t seem like a talker,” Jessica said, opening the door at the top. “Please, come inside.”  The Soldier stepped inside, with Natasha behind.

“First off, I think some new pants are needed.” Jessica set the box down on the couch. “If you’re shy you can… never mind.” The Soldier was already stripping off the trousers, stepping out of them and putting his hands behind his back. “Okay, I think these might fit you. They were left behind by another traveler, and they’re not in bad shape,” Jessica said, handing the black pants to the Soldier. He slipped them on, fumbling with the button slightly. Natasha carefully noted the faded scars on his muscled calves, the slight puckers on his toes. But she kept her head up, respectfully.

“Are you okay to take your shirt off?” Jessica asked, holding up a fresh new one. The Soldier flinched ever-so-slightly, and he reached up behind him and pulled off the bloodstained cloth.

Natasha’s eyes flickered over the skin. Covered in fading marks, but obviously healed, were marks of torture. She knew them by heart. But what was more startling was his left arm. It wasn’t human. Something mechanic, that barely made a noise as it moved. It was a dull but still shiny silver. It made up his shoulder to his fingertips, and the skin around it was raised and scarred white. “What happened to you?” she breathed. The Soldier’s nostrils flared and he gritted his jaw.

“Nothing,” he grunted.

“Here,” Jessica said gently, holding out the shirt. The Soldier grabbed it, slipping it on quickly. It was a deep blue, so dark it was almost black, but the Soldier’s blue eyes were accented by it. Jessica handed him a leather vest, dyed black. The soldier laced it up as Jessica rummaged through the box. “I have some socks here, and you have to wear boots.”

“Do you have a glove?” The Soldier asked. Jessica nodded and tossed him a left hand glove. He slipped it on, and both women noticed the visible lowering of his tense shoulders. “Thank you,” he murmured. He had never said that before.

“You haven’t been in control for a while, have you?” Jessica asked. The Soldier’s eyes flashed, and Natasha tensed up. “I know what being out of control of yourself looks like. I’ve been there. Luke has been there.” Jessica’s eyes flicked to Natasha, but without a sign of encouragement continued on. “You made it out alive. That’s no small feat. Why?”

“Why?” the Soldier tilted his head to the side, puzzled.

“What was your reason?” Jessica handed him a pair of striped socks. “Mine was the wanting to never hurt anyone again. I was forced to hurt people… including myself. And I just dreamed to never, ever hurt anyone again.”

“You dreamed?”

“Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” the Soldier murmured. Jessica furrowed her brows empathetically.

“Put on these boots,” she said. “Then come with me.” The Soldier slipped on simple black boots, and followed Jessica Jones out onto the stair landing.

“Wade!” she shouted out. “What’s your dream?”

“Oh Jessie, baby, I thought no one would ever ask!” Wade crowed. Logan and quite a view others flipped Jessica off, but she just murmured to the soldier,

“Watch.”

“Murdock! Play me a tune!” Wade cried out, jumping up onto the stage. There were a couple boos, but he waved them off before clearing his throat to get the pub’s attention.

“A Song, by Wade-Wilson-slash-Deadpool,” he announced loudly before beginning to sing:

"I’ve got scars and lumps and bruises!/Plus something here that oozes,/And let’s not even mention my complexion./But despite my extra toes,” he winked. “/And my goiter and my nose/I really want to make a love connection!/” He swooned into Logan’s chest, who grunted and pushed him off. “Can’t you see me with a special little someone?/Rowing in a rowboat down the stream?/Though I’m one disgusting blighter, I’m a lover, not a fighter/‘Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!”

The bar broke into scattered applause.

“Do I hear an encore?” Wade sang out. There were definitely more boos this time but Wade was grinning. “I know you want one! Aaaaaand I know one day romance will reign supreme!/Though my face leaves people screaming/There’s a child behind it dreaming/Like everybody--” he was cut off by Drax socking him in the stomach, which made the pub erupt in cheers.

“Thor would like to quit and be a florist,” Jessica chuckled, pointing at the large blond viking man arm-wrestling. “Gamora does interior design. Drax, the guy who just punched Wade is into mime. Sif’s cupcakes are sublime. Bruce Banner knits, Elektra sews, Vision does little puppet shows. And Jennifer Walters,” the Soldier looked at where she was pointing to see a muscular, incredibly strong woman with a green tint to her skin grab Thor’s hand in an arm wrestling match and win almost instantly.  “collects ceramic unicorns.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” the Soldier asked.

“These guys are awful. Violence wise, their hands are not the cleanest. Neither are mine. But they’re not inherently bad, though some of them like breaking femurs. They all have dreams. Just like you. Wanting to see the kingdom that bad-- that’s a dream.”

“What about you?” he looked at Natasha.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Jessica grinned. “What’s your dream?”

“Somewhere warm and sunny…” Natasha mused, a small smile playing on her lips. “Tanned and rested and alone. Surrounded by enormous piles of money.” The Soldier softly grunted. Natasha looked up. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he shifted his feet.

“I’ll get Luke to pack some water for you, why don’t you come back down to the bar before you leave?” Jessica said, walking down the steps. Natasha and the Soldier followed behind, slightly more relaxed than before.

“You look good, Soldier-boy!” Wade grinned, adjusting the hood on his head. “New duds, it’s a whole new you!”

“Hmph,” the Soldier grunted. Natasha was about to make a snide comment to Wade, when the door slammed open, the group of guards who had chased Natasha through the woods stomped in. Natasha and the Soldier ducked down behind the bar, keeping their heads lowered.

“Where’s the Widow? Where is she?!?” the sergeant demanded. “I know she’s in here somewhere. Find her, turn the place upside down if you have to!” The Soldier grabbed Natasha’s arm as she tilted her head up to see who was there. The Sergeant, the Archer, three more guards, and behind them (in chains) were Batroc and Rumlow. They looked in their direction and Natasha slipped back down into the shadows.

“Hello,” Luke Cage folded his arms. “How can I help you today?”

Jessica gently kicked Widow with her boot. Natasha looked up, and Jessica slightly nodded her head toward the cellar door. If they were quick, they could make it through. Natasha tapped the Soldier, who had his eyes tightly shut and was taking deep quiet breaths. He opened his eyes, looking at her and then to where she was pointing. He nodded at her, and Natasha nodded up at Jessica. Jessica’s hand flicked out suddenly and a glass fell to the stone floor next to them, shattering. “Oops!” she said loudly. “My fault!” She crouched down and hissed,

“Go you two. Live your dreams.”

“I will,” Natasha smirked.

“Oh your dream stinks,” Jessica teased. “I was talking to him.”

“Thanks,” Natasha rolled onto her knees to crawl to the door.

The Soldier reached forward to gently put a hand on Jessica’s knee. “Thanks for everything,” he said quietly.

“Of course. Come back anytime,” Jessica nodded. The Soldier moved to follow Natasha, and Jessica put on her best and brightest fake smile. “I think I recognize you, young man-- is your name Peter?”

★★★★★★★★★★★★

Hercules pushed Deadpool in front of the guards. “I believe this is the man you’re looking for.” He smiled his most charming smile.

“You got me!” Wilson cooed and winked.

One of the guards hurried down the stairs. “Sir, there’s no sign of Black Widow.”

“Or Lucky?!” Clint Barton exclaimed.

“Or-” There was the sound of a loud bark and scratching at the pub door. Lucky burst in, tail wagging, panting, and ears perked.

“Lucky!” the archer cried, dropping to his knees and holding out his arms. Lucky yapped, but ran past Barton, to the cellar door.

“Lucky!?! What the--”

“Barton! He’s got the scent!” Wilson grinned, following the dog and pulling open the door. “I bet there’s a passage- C’mon, Barton let’s go! You three,” he turned back to the remaining guards with their wanted prisoners. “Make sure they don’t get away!”

Barton and Wilson ran after Lucky.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★

The bar was silent, and the three guards leveled their weapons at the prisoners who exchanged a look. With three different moves, Crossbones and Batroc the Leaper were able to incapacitate them. The bar goers averted their eyes. This wasn’t their business.  

“Play it safe….” Crossbones grinned. “Or go get the crown?” Batroc grinned maliciously.  “Mmmhmm.” Rumlow nodded. They stepped over the unconscious guards and left the Snuggly Duckling.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“So, Natasha,” the Soldier began, “where are you from?”

Natasha chuckled, adjusting her grip on the torch. “Sorry, Muscles, I don’t do back-story. However I am becoming very interested in yours. Now I, I know I’m not supposed to mention the tower.”

The Soldier grunted.

“Or the Doctor.”

Another grunt.

“Frankly I don’t know where to start about the arm,” Natasha teased. “But here’s my question: it really wasn’t too hard to figure out an escape, and you’re clearly stronger than most men. Why haven’t you escaped before?”

The Soldier stopped in his tracks.
“What are you doing?” Natasha asked.

“Shh...”

The ground seemed rumble as the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps got louder.

“Widow!” the guard shouted.

“Run!” Natasha grabbed the Soldier’s hand and pulled him, and they both sprinted through the tunnel. As they emerged into the afternoon light, Natasha scanned their surroundings. She knew this was the water dam, the supply for the kingdom. It loomed above them as the canyon lay below them. There was a crash that echoed through the canyon as a wooden door burst apart with the entrance of two thugs wielding swords. Natasha realized with a jolt of horror and a gasp that they were Batroc and Rumlow, wielding swords.

The Soldier pointed at them.

“Batroc and Rumlow. They don’t like me.” Natasha explained. They whirled around to face the pair of guards emerging from the cavern.

The Soldier looked at her.

“King’s Guards… they really don’t like me.” Natasha explained.

“Oh please, Widow-- we love you!” the light haired one drew an arrow back. “Given us quite a workout!”

“Shut up, Barton!” the sergeant snapped, leveling his crossbow. “Black Widow, for high crimes against the crown prince of--”

“Woof!” Lucky bounded through their legs and straight toward Natasha. The Soldier tensed and stepped forward with his arm outstretched to guard her, but she dropped to her knees below.

“Lucky!” she and Barton said in unison. Lucky jumped up and licked her face.

“Lucky, get back!” the sergeant yelled, his finger on the trigger.

“No!” Barton shouted, as Natasha was suddenly yanked up from the ground and into a strong pair of arms. The Soldier took two steps backwards then ran forward. Natasha clung to his vest, closing her eyes tight as she felt the wind whistle around her.

The Soldier let out a breathy cry as he landed on a nearby shelf of rock. Natasha slipped out of his arms as he fell to his knees.

“Are you okay?!” she asked, grabbing his right arm.

“Fine!” The Soldier growled. “Go!”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT NO KILLING?!” Barton was yelling at his sergeant. There was a large “CRACK!” and suddenly one of the supports of the water dam fell. The rest of the dam started to crack and groan, and water started to spring.

Natasha pulled on his arm to get him on his feet, and they kept running. There was another drop and Natasha skidded to a stop, then saw the wooden sluice. “Down this!” She leaped in and began to slide. The Soldier crouched in after her, letting his boots bounce down the wood, and guiding himself with his left arm behind him. The sluice wasn’t gonna hold both of their weight, and Natasha felt the support under her shudder and begin to fall.

“Jump!” the Soldier urged. “Jump, Natasha!”

They both leaped, and fell onto the hard stone below. “Stop right there, Romanoff!” Rumlow shouted. Then the dam burst. Hundreds of thousands of gallons of water were now added to the groups chasing them.

“Soldier!” Natasha shouted.

“Right behind you,” the Soldier responded. “That tunnel, there!” The Soldier picked up Natasha again, and put on a burst of speed.

They made it into the tunnel as the first bit of water touched their feet, and the Soldier put her down. “We’ll make it to high ground,” Natasha panted. “And then we’ll--”

Suddenly the tunnel entrance was sealed with a colossal crash and everything went dark.

“The water is coming in fast,” the Soldier snapped, flinging his fists against the giant boulder. “We have to find a way out.”

Natasha started searching the walls, moving her hands up and down the rocks to find a weak spot. Anything that could help. The water was at their waists now.

The Soldier took in a deep breath, and dove down. Natasha reached down and tugged on the Soldier’s arm. He came out of the water, smoothing his wet mop of hair back off his face.

“There’s no point,” Natasha put her hands on his shoulders. “It’s pitch-black down there.”

“This is my fault,” the Soldier growled. Voices ran through his head.

You’re a monster. You killed them. You’ll never be anything more than a nightmare under the bed. 

“I’m sorry, Natasha.” The soldier hung his head, closing his eyes. The water was nearing his chest now.

“Natalia,” she said quietly. “My real name is Natalia Alianovna Romanoff. Someone might as well know. I’m not a good person. You don’t need to apologize.”

“I’m a monster,” the Soldier said, his voice rising with every word. “A monster with a mechanical arm! I think I’ve killed people! I’m a monster!” He swung his arm at the rocks. Natasha stood back as he pummeled the rocks, closing her eyes as the water reached her neck.

It reached her chin, her nose, and Natasha took one last deep breath and closed her eyes.

She barely felt the water pressure change, an arm wrapping tightly around her waist and the Soldier pulling her through the hole in the cavern he made. They were sucked and dragged by the water draining out, and Natasha felt the warmth of the setting sun on her face for just a moment before back into the water.

She woke up on a riverbank, her breath finally back in her chest and her entire body wet.

“We made it,” the soldier panted.

“You’re shot!”

“Where are we?”

“You’re shot!”

“Natalia.”

“You’re shot!”

“It’s fine,” he reached behind him and pulled the arrow out.

“Soldier! You can’t just-!”

“Yes,” the Soldier reached down and helped her stand up. “I can.” He turned around and showed her the wound. It was halfway closed, and wasn’t even bleeding.

“What?” Natasha breathed.

“I’ll show you.”

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★