Six

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

The words hit Steve like a punch to the stomach. His mind flashed back to a year before, standing on an overpass with a very violent and confused Winter Soldier. He'd said the same thing. The exact same thing. Hydra had robbed him of that knowledge, just as it had robbed Six of everything that belonged to her. His lungs felt like they were constricting. He quickly took control of himself. He had to appear calm on the exterior. He took a few covert deep breaths, and looked at the woman sitting before him. She clearly had no idea who Bucky was. She knew the Winter Soldier. She did not know James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes. For a moment he pitied her; then he decided she didn't deserve his pity. Not because she was unworthy; but because she didn't need it. What she needed was help, not for everyone to get all weepy all of a sudden. But Six was bringing back a lot of emotions about Hydra and Bucky that Steve had buried or thought he'd left in the past; he realized they weren't nearly as gone as he had believed.

She was looking at him, as though expecting an answer. She seemed to be getting a little bit frustrated.

“Bucky is... the Winter Soldier.” Steve finally replied, evenly. He was glad that his words didn't waver.

“Why does everyone have more than one name?” She glared at him as though she thought he was lying.

He smirked a little bit, despite himself. It wasn't her fault she didn't know any of this. She'd probably been memory wiped and in cryo for years. “You haven't ever heard of a real name and a code name before?” She shook her head. “You think your real name is Six?”

“Six is my only name.” She nodded. “I don't have three or four names like you people do. I am only Six.”

Steve shook his head. “No, I'm sorry. You're not. You were someone before you became Six.”

She shook her head as well, a little defiantly. “I don't remember anything before Six.”

“Neither did Bucky at first. Not until memories had to basically smack him in the face. Then he started to remember.” Steve had his hands splayed out on the table top. Six had moved in her chair to mimic him, albeit still handcuffed. Her small fingers spread out on the smooth surface of the table; Steve wondered how such delicate hands could deal such deadly blows. “How exactly do you expect me to help you? Why me?”

Six paused for a moment. “Even before... the Winter- Bucky... he always knew you. He dreamed about you. You were his friend?” Steve nodded. “And now I see him, and no one is controlling him. And he has emotion.” She looked darkly at Steve, almost covetous. “I want that.”

Steve took this in and then replied slowly. “What changed your mind?”

* * *

I wasn't sure yet if I should tell him, but I was beginning to think that if I didn't he may not help me. He may leave me on my own, and I couldn't outrun Hydra alone forever with no money and no memories. “I had knocked, er, Bucky, and you” I gestured at the redhead, “Nat. I had knocked them from the jet. Nat had hit her head. She was unconscious.”

I saw Nat's eyes flicker, and her expression turned a bit colder. I shrugged it off. I had thrown her from a plane and given her a concussion. I deserved her ire. I turned back to Steve. “I heard him say into his comm, that Nat was down and that he was fighting me, and not to approach. I didn't think much of it at the time, thought he was just being cold and his fallen partner didn't matter. In Hydra we don't matter. But I realized later that he wasn't being cold.”

“How so?”

“He kept looking over to her, even as we fought. Until we were out of line of sight. But he didn't want anyone coming because he didn't want any of you to be killed.” I nodded. “And at that point, I would have killed you.”

“So how did this change your mind exactly?” Steve asked again.

“I've never been told to stand down for my own safety. I don't know what that's like. And then, someone knocked me out before I could kill him. I've also never had anyone come to my rescue. In Hydra you complete your mission and you're alone. If you mess up, no one is there to help you. They come to get you when you're done, and they patch you up. Or they retrieve your body.” I looked at my hands. “I don't know why, but that made me want to leave.”

“That was me that hit you.” Nat spoke up from behind Steve. “I don't take kindly to people trying to kill my friends. Or throwing me out of airplanes.”

I nodded. “I don't expect you to.”

Nat looked at Steve and sighed. They both looked at me.

“What?” I replied.

“An apology wouldn't be an extraordinary thing to ask, but I guess it's more than I'm going to get.” Nat grimaced.

I was confused. She had been my mission and now she wasn't. We'd both incapacitated each other. Were we not equals?

Steve stood up. “I'll have a lot more questions for you. And naturally we will have to keep you on lock down for the time being.”

“Naturally.”

“You're okay with that?” Steve looked shocked.

I nodded. “I can't expect to switch sides all of a sudden and have everyone trust me. I can stay in lock up as long as you require. Just please don't freeze me.”

Steve looked at me in horror. “No. Oh my God, no. We aren't going to put you in cryo!” He sat back down. “Listen, we don't know if you're a spy or if you're telling the truth, but that's not what we do here. No one goes in cryo. No one gets memory wipes. We'll put you in a room where we can watch you until we gather enough evidence to either let you go or...” He seemed at a loss for words. “Send you to jail I guess.” He straightened up. “First we need to get you medically cleared by Bruce.”

“I'm in perfect health. Nothing has ever been wrong with me.” I declared. Not that I could remember anyway.

“No, we need to make sure there aren't any more trackers or, anything, inside of you. We need to do an MRI, a CT Scan, an X-ray. Check out your knife wound and where you took out your tracker. Check for infection.” Steve explained.

“You treat your prisoners this way?”

“The Avengers do, yes. And let's not call you a prisoner, all right? If you're really here for help, we'll find out. You're just... a guest with limited mobility.” Steve nodded his head in approval.

“That sounds like a prisoner.” I replied bluntly.

“Fine, you're being detained. But you came here yourself. What did you think was going to happen?”

“That I would be detained.” I answered back. I had figured out exactly what would happen. There had been a few possible scenarios. They would kill me on the spot. They would send me back. The one I was hoping for was that they'd detain me and help me get some kind of normal life going. Whatever normal was, exactly.

“All right, get up. Let's go to medical.” Steve unlocked my cuffs from the table, clicking them tighter around my wrists. Damn it. Now I really couldn't slip them if I needed to. This guy was smarter than I'd pegged him. He gently took my arm and led me out of the room. As the door opened, a man in a red metal suit stepped back.

“Dead man walking.” The suited man said. “Make that two, actually.”

“Give the jokes a rest, Tony. And you need some sleep, Mayday is right.” Steve told the man as we passed. I turned. On the other side of the door, by the window looking into the room, was the Winter Soldier. I almost didn't recognize him. He wore regular clothes. His eyes weren't darkened like usual. Beside him stood a woman, her hand protectively wrapped around his bicep. He had his arm slightly in front of her, as though keeping her from something dangerous; ready to push her behind him. What was such an immediate threat? Oh, me.

“Soldier.” I nodded to him.

“Six.” He said back, cold as ice.

Steve continued to lead me down the hall to an elevator. I threw a glance back over my shoulder. The interaction between Bucky and the woman beside him piqued my interest. I assumed they were lovers, by their mutual interest in protecting one another. As the elevator rose, I found myself wondering what that would be like. What that kind of emotion, those feelings, were. Would I ever have them? Would I ever care enough? I wasn't sure.

* * *

“I'll be damned.” Banner walked into the small meeting room later that day. Six had gone through a medical screening, and been placed in a holding cell. Steve, Bucky, and Tony were now all waiting for Banner to show up to tell them what was going on. Maria, Mayday, and Natasha were upstairs in command, doubling their efforts to figure out Six's identity.

“What?” Steve asked. “First, are there any trackers?”

“Or bombs?” Bucky added.

“Uh, no. No trackers, no implants, no... bombs.” Bruce looked at Bucky strangely.

“You'd put it past Hydra to hide a bomb in an unknowing person and send them to our headquarters?” Bucky raised his brows and looked around the room.

“That just seems very... Wiley Coyote of them.” Tony quipped.

“What?” Bucky asked.

Tony turned to Steve. “Add that to the list of pop culture that the Errant Soldier-boy needs to get on, stat.”

Steve sighed, ignoring Tony. “As you were saying, Bruce?”

“Yes. Aside from the infection in the would on her arm, she's in perfect health. A little too good. Bucky, whatever Hydra dosed you with in World War Two seems to be running through Six's veins as well.” Banner continued reading. “In addition, she's broken every major bone in her body. Some more than once.”

Steve winced at the thought. That was a lot of pain for one person to handle.

“Well, we know Buck Owens here broke one of her arms. Who broke the other bones?” Tony said lightheartedly, though his face betrayed the gravity of the situation. Bucky looked miserable.

“I'm assuming that they were broken in training before the serum was injected.” Banner replied.

“Can we tell how old the breaks are? Try to get a picture of how long she's been with Hydra?” Steve wondered.

“I thought of that, but no. They're all healed completely, but if she's been in and out of cryo, essentially freezing all metabolism, I can't get a real read on how long it's been. We'll have to figure out when she was recruited by a different means.”

“Is there anything else we should know?” Steve asked.

Bruce shook his head. “No. I mean, it would require several medical specialists to do a full work up; I only did a brief physical. And I don't think a full work up would be a good idea right now. She appears healthy, we did blood work; too much would be intrusive. She's not like we are; likely her only experience with doctors has been during trauma. Nothing else is necessary at the moment. For lack of a better expression, it might freak her out.”

“And when she's cornered, she kills people.” Bucky growled in a low voice.

“Yeah, a 'Hulk vs Six' showdown in New York wouldn't be pretty. But it would make headlines.” Tony stated, smirking. “Anyways, I guess all we can do now is keep an eye on the Amnesiac Super Soldier 2.0, and try to figure out where she came from.” He got up and left the room, calling back over his shoulder. “Good talk, guys.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Does he ever not have a sarcastic comment?”

Steve and Bruce shot each other a knowing look. “No.” They answered in unison.

* * *

Steve took the folder Bruce had handed him, and ascended to the floor where Six was on lock down. This wasn't easy, and he knew it would get harder before it became anywhere close to easy. Six reminded him of Bucky at his most wild and most vulnerable, even though outwardly she appeared collected and strong. She also reminded him of himself, utterly alone in the world. She was a blank slate, but she wouldn't be for long. They would figure out who she had been, and then the realization would hit her. The life she'd had to leave behind; the person she was that she couldn't really ever get back to. Her family was all probably dead; he had no idea how old she really was. He felt his heart hurt for her a bit. He'd helped Bucky through the same thing, but he'd made mistakes. He was still patching up his friendship with Barnes. With Six he was getting a chance to do it all over again, and he didn't want to make mistakes this time.

He approached the door on the side of the giant window that faced into the cell. He could see Six sitting on the small bed, staring into space. She had the blankets pulled back, as though she were going to go to sleep soon. She was going to have to wait; he had to talk to her.

She sat on the bed, looking peaceful, but when her eyes locked with him, he could see the storm inside of them. Something about her eyes sent a chill down his spine, and made his heart beat a little faster.

Get it together, Steve, he told himself. She's a Hydra assassin who's not only tried to kill your best friend, she's seduced him for secrets as well. She isn't the type of girl who should be making your heart race. This situation isn't proper for that at all.

Steve took a deep breath, and, without realizing he was doing it, smoothed out the front of his shirt and straightened his jacket. He smoothed his hair behind his ears. Then he knocked on the door.

* * *

The accommodations they had given me weren't bad. In fact, they were a lot nicer than anything Hydra had ever provided. All I'd ever been used to there was a cold cell or a colder cryo tank. Steve had taken me to medical, where they'd given me privacy to change into a gown (mostly privacy; Natasha had been on the other side of the curtain) and done several scans, and a basic physical. The wound on my side was in fact healing just fine, but my arm where the tracker had been removed was infected. Bruce Banner, a mild looking man with kind eyes, had given me antibiotics. He'd said he was some kind of scientist but not a medical doctor, but that would just have to do. It was all the same to me.

They'd put me in a small suite. One wall of it was clear glass, so they could see me at all times. It did have a small bathroom that was completely private, however, with a shower and hot water. The room had a heater so that I would be warm, and a small bed with blankets on it. It was a lot different than the cot with a rough wool throw that I'd had at Hydra, and a cold shower.

I'd gotten settled, and was about to try to take a nap, when I saw Steve approaching my cell. Our eyes locked for a few seconds, and something I didn't recognize flashed through his irises, but he quickly looked away. There was a tap on the door, and Steve walked in.

“Steve.” I nodded at him.

“Six.” He replied. He indicated a folder he held in his left hand. “I have the results of your scans.”

“And?”

“And you don't have any more trackers or implants. You're clean.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I had always wondered, in the back of my mind, if there was a backup tracker. There was not. I could rest a little easier.

“However, there are a few things that are interesting.” He gestured at the small couch. “May I sit?”

I found it odd that he would ask if he could sit down in my prison cell, but I only nodded. I stayed standing, alert.

“You can sit down. No one is going to try to attack you.” He pointed at the seat beside him. I regarded him suspiciously. “I promise.”

I guardedly sat down next to him. “What did you find?”

“Every bone in your body has been broken. At least every major one, and also most of your fingers and toes. You have several skull injuries as well. All healed.”

“What's that mean?”

“Honestly, all I can think of is that your training was brutal.” He looked at me and his eyes seemed kind of sad.

“I don't remember.”

“It's probably good that you don't.” He flipped a page. “Your metabolism is increased as well. We know Hydra experimented with some kind of Serum on Bucky during the war; we're thinking they did the same to you. That's how you can fight him so well.”

I frowned. I had thought I could fight him because I was strong. “No, there must be some mistake. I'm just well trained.”

“You are well trained, but nobody is that strong naturally. It doesn't happen.” Steve peered at me. I had to admit, I was a little disappointed to find out that half of my prowess was due to a serum. That didn't seem fair. At least half of Bucky's was, too. “Are you all right?” Steve looked at me, a small amount of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, I'm fine. That's just unfortunate to know.”

“Which part? The beatings?”

“No. The serum part. I thought I was better than that.”

He looked at me like his eyes were going to fall out of his head. “I got the serum too. You really need to calm down and not be so hard on yourself.”

“You did? But you were never with Hydra.”

He shook his head. “No, the US stole it from Hydra in WW2. I used to be a tiny, scrawny guy who got beaten up a lot.”

I regarded him carefully. He was big and strong, and I'd heard about him. “You think I was once scrawny and weak?” I didn't like where this was going.

He shook his head. “No.” He appeared to pause, carefully considering his next words. “Hydra would choose candidates for the skills they already had. They wouldn't want to have to do too much training. Bucky was already a soldier. You probably were too.”

“Why did the US decide to use you, then? If you had no useful skills?” I asked. He seemed taken aback by the directness of the question.

“The serum... see here's the thing. They told me that it takes whatever you are and makes you, well, more of it. So they went about finding the most humble guy they could. Turns out, that's the guy who takes regular beating behind a theater, the girls never like, and really wants to stop bullies.” He shrugged. “Also turns out it's the smallest guy in the room.”

I nodded. I couldn't imagine wome never liking Steve. His personality was so... kind. He continued.

“That's actually good news for you though. Because whatever you were before... it wasn't all bad. The serum made you strong and quick, but it didn't turn you into anything awful, which is what it does to people who aren't, well, good people.”

“I've been killing people. How is that a good thing?” I raised my eyebrows. I may have woken from cryo only a few months ago, but I knew enough to figure out that murder wasn't high on the list of quality attributes.

“You were made into that. That's not who you were.” Steve got up. “Get some rest, Six. There's going to be more questions tomorrow; probably for a while. I'm sorry we have to keep you locked up.” I looked into his eyes. He didn't seem like a man who lied. He was at least partly telling the truth. I couldn't figure out why he was so forgiving, while the other people here were not.

“I don't know a whole lot, I'm not sure what I can answer, but I'll try.”

* * *

That night I dreamed I was far away. I was in a desert, traveling by car in a caravan of sorts. I had news crew with me. The man next to me, Dan, looked at me and asked, “are you sure you're ready?”

I nodded, checking that I had the proper paperwork in my wallet. I was wearing a tan button up shirt, brown trousers, and a large coat. It was cold, probably winter. We were speaking French, but the radio poured out words in a foreign language I couldn't quite catch. “Yeah, Dan, I'm ready. Let's go get whatever info we can. We need to get these people out.”

“Are you sure you're ready to be back?” Dan asked me. I shot him a haughty look. “Yes. Why does everyone keep asking me that? This is what I decided to do-” I had begun to explain something to the man, but I didn't know what, and I was cut off. In horror I looked and saw the car in front of me explode. I threw my body over Dan, as our van swerved to miss the leading car, tipping over in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Dan was yelling.

“Oh my God. Frankie, Peter, are you all right?” I climbed over the front seat. I couldn't find my gun. Where was it? It was supposed to be anchored under the seat but it wasn't there. What was going on? No one knew about us; they thought we were just a news crew. Why had out front car exploded?

I didn't have long to wonder, though. The door to the van; the driver's door which was now on top due to the roll, was ripped off of it's hinges. A hand reached in, clad in black, and put a bullet in the head of the driver. “Frank!” I yelled, finally finding my firearm. I raised it and took two shots at the figure on top of the vehicle. He barely moved; wearing Kevlar apparently, but it should have phased him more than that. He looked into the car. Dark hair. Eyes blacked out. A mask. A metal arm reached in, grabbed my gun, and threw it somewhere; I didn't know where. He was fast. He tossed the pistol and reached back in, this time for me. I woke up as he hauled me out of the car with one arm.

* * *

“This is Steve.” Steve answered his phone the way he always did, rolling over to peer at the clock. It was one o'clock am. He was getting really tired of the people at Avenger Tower. He hadn't moved to Brooklyn to be woken up at all hours because Tony and Bruce were fighting, or Wanda read someone's mind again and they were pissed.

“Stevie Wonder, it's Tony. We have a bit of an issue here that we could use the ol' Star Spangledness for.” Stark's cheery voice rang through the phone.

“What's wrong? Why are you so chipper? It's one am, Tony.” Steve groaned. “This had better be good. If it's the Hulk, deal with him yourself.”

“It's not the Hulk. Natasha swore to me she'd murder me in my sleep if I use him for paintball practice again.” Tony got quiet, seeming to get serious. Steve knew his jokes were a defense mechanism. “It's Six.”

“Son of a bitch. Did she kill anyone?” Steve was already jolting out of bed, pulling on clothing. No, Steve, jeans go on before shoes. Get it together.

“Fortunately, no. But she woke up yelling in French, and now she's just staring at the wall rocking back and forth muttering to herself.” Tony informed him. “I swear this tower only attracts weirdos.”

Steve sat back down. “Why does this involve me? She's not hurting anyone; just leave her alone.”

“Hey, man, I said the same thing, but Pepper called me a jerk and told me to call you. Actually, she called me a dick. Yes, a dick. Everyone has tried to talk to Six already, even Friday. You can guess how well that went.” Tony sighed. “She seems to like you. You need to get down here. We don't need a super soldier deciding to go berserk. She's acting like the psycho before they go all possessed and kill everyone in a horror film. You remember how many times Bucky wrecked shit, right?”

Steve nodded despite the fact that Tony couldn't see him. Bucky had been unstable and angry for a long time upon his return, and had gone off and broken several doors, a microwave, his television, most of the windows on his floor, and put a huge crack in the wall of one of the elevators. He was sincerely hoping Six could keep herself together and not do that. “Yes. I'll be right there. Just... leave her alone until I get there.”

“Shouldn't be a problem. The only people who seem to have any sympathy for her are Wanda and Bruce. And they both struck out already.”

Steve clicked the phone off, put on a jacket, and took his motorcycle to the tower. There was no traffic at this time of night on a Tuesday; he made it in record time, pulling into the garage for the second time that day and making his way up the floors via the elevator. He got out on the 25^th floor. There was a group of people standing outside of Six's cell.

“I hate to tell you all this, but the way to make a woman feel better is probably not by standing around collectively staring at her in her nightgown.” Cap stated dryly upon entering the room.

“We wanted to see what she would do.” Natasha replied briskly.

“Give us a minute, will you?” Steve paused at the door.

“I'll be watching, in case you need rescuing.” Nat told him, and they all left the room, no doubt to watch whatever happened on the security feed. Tony, Pepper, Wanda, and Bruce followed Natasha from the room.

“She called me a dick, Steve.” Tony called over his shoulder.

“You are a dick, Tony.” Steve shot back. Then he steeled himself, knocked twice, and opened the door. Six was seated on her bed, cross legged, facing the wall. Her back was to him. “Six?” He called gently. She didn't respond.

She was rocking slightly back and forth. “The man with the arm. The man with the arm. Where's my gun? Frank is dead. Frank is dead.” She was repeating over and over. Steve approached her slowly.

“Six?” He asked again. She still didn't respond. “Six, it's Steve. What's going on?” He was hoping it wasn't some weird mind control thing. He reached out a hand and gently placed it on her shoulder.

That wasn't the right thing to do. He should have remembered, from dealing with Bucky. As soon as his hand touched her shoulder, she turned, grabbed his arm, leapt off of the bed, and flipped him over onto it. She jumped on top of him, almost in the same action, her knees holding his arms down and her hands pressed to his throat. He tore his arms free, grabbing her while simultaneously extracting himself from beneath her. He threw her on her back, pinning her down. She kicked at him, and he let her go and stepped away. She jumped up again. “Six, it's me. Six, stop. Six! Stop!” He yelled at her. She managed to break through the confusion, her dark eyes focusing on his face. She quit advancing towards him.

“Steve?” She looked at him quizzically. “When did you get here?” She noticed her hands were balled into fists, and quickly put them down by her sides.

“Just a minute ago. Before you attacked me.” He put his hands on his hips. “Care to explain?” He looked her up and down. He had to admit, getting taken out by a woman in her nightshirt was a new one. He could only imagine the bullshit Natasha and Tony were going to put him through for that.

“You scared me.”

* * *

I regarded Captain America wearily. “You scared me.” I told him. “I wasn't expecting you.”

“People have been trying to talk to you for a while.” Steve was looking at me like he was very concerned. I thought back. I had been thinking about things; I didn't remember anyone coming in. I shook my head. Nothing. I'd been pretty focused on trying to recall what I'd just dreamed.

“I don't remember anyone. No. I was busy.” I nodded.

“Busy staring at the wall?” He looked dubious.

“Yes. No. Yes.” I was getting confused. “No. Not looking at the wall. I was remembering something.” I looked at him. He was still a few paces away. I was glad he was hear, but I didn't want him much closer. Not right now. I felt a tinge of what I assumed was guilt for attacking him. “I'm... sorry I jumped on you.”

His jaw almost fell to the floor, but he composed himself. “It's fine. No one got hurt.” He seemed to sense my feelings on his presence. He pulled a chair up and sat down, not attempting to come closer. “What were you remembering? Did you dream something?”

I nodded. “I was in the desert. My, my friends car exploded, and our car flipped. I couldn't find my gun. Frank was dead; he put a bullet in his head. Ripped the door off and put a bullet in him. Then he grabbed me and pulled me out.” I swallowed hard, and looked at Steve. “I think the Winter Soldier... I mean Bucky... was the one who took me.”

Steve's expression remained calm, but I could see emotions behind his stoic eyes that weren't good. He leaned forward in his chair. “So we know you joined Hydra after he did. This is a start.”

“He killed my friends.” I was panicking inside. I had just realized what it was like to have friends, and lost them all, in the span of a single dream. “Why am I remembering this?”

“The memories start to come back, somewhat, when you're out of cryo for a long time.” Steve informed me. “Not all of them, and there's really no telling what you'll remember and what you won't. Not to sound insensitive, but did anything else about your dream indicate where or when you may have been taken?”

I thought about it. “We were all speaking French, but the man on the radio wasn't. I couldn't tell what he was speaking. Am I french?”

Steve nodded. “Best we can tell, yes. You speak with an accent.”

“That makes sense. If I had just learned french for a mission, I wouldn't speak English with an accent... would I?” I asked. Steve shook his head 'no.' “I don't remember anything else useful. Except all of my friends are dead. And.. and Dan asked me if I was ready to be back. I don't know what that means but I got irritated at the question.”

Steve gave this some thought. “The dreams... they'll keep coming. Bucky still has them, all the time. Mayday has to wake him up a lot to stop the night terrors.” He looked at his hands. “I wish I could tell you things were going to get easier from here, but they're not.”

I nodded. “Bucky and Mayday... Mayday is the woman I saw earlier?” Steve nodded. “They care for each other? No?”

Steve nodded again. “Yes, they do. I didn't know Bucky even had that capacity yet, but they hit it off a few months ago.” He stopped, eyeing me suspiciously. “Is this a problem?” He had tensed up.

“No, no. Not at all.” I sat up straight. “I dislike him. I'm just curious about it because he went through the same thing I am. I'm wondering... what I'll be like. I don't know myself.” It seemed like an insufficient answer, but it was all I had. I was seething mad at the Winter Soldier right now. He'd ripped me from whatever home I'd had. But I wanted the level of comfort he had. With himself and with others. “It's going to take a long time, isn't it?”

* * *

“It's going to take a long time, isn't it?” Six asked Steve. He looked at her, sitting on her bed, looking so proud and so tough. She carried herself like she could take on the world, and he knew she probably could. She'd tossed him around like he was nothing only a few minutes earlier. Her hair was ratted from sleep, and her dark eyes shone hauntingly in the pale light. He decided, right then, that she needed his help, and he was going to provide it. He took a deep breath.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?” He asked her.

She looked him up and down. “Yes.” She replied. Then she thought about it. “No.”

“Do you want me to stay here?” He offered. “I'll just sit here. I'll stay over here. Sometimes company helps.” She thought about this for a few minutes. When she didn't reply, he added. “I can leave, too. That's fine. Or we can talk.” He could tell he wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight.

She finally nodded. “We can talk.” She climbed back under her blanket, keeping an eye on him. “Just... tell me something.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I don't know. Tell me about when you were young. You're old, like Bucky, no?” She settled down into her mattress.

“Yes, I am.” Steve began to tell her about Brooklyn in the forties, and he knew his story was boring. He meant it to be boring, so she'd fall asleep. He wasn't sure if she'd ever let her guard down, but she seemed to trust him. After what seemed like an eternity, and him recalling every elementary school event he could possibly remember, every teacher, every asthma attack, every time he got jumped and Bucky came to his rescue, she finally nodded off.

He sat back in the chair, watching her for a few minutes, then pulling out his phone. He texted Tony, 'disaster averted. Go to sleep, Dick.” Then he settled back and began playing solitaire. He'd stay a while longer to make sure she stayed asleep.

He'd made his decision, while sitting there watching her react to his stories that most people would find unbelievably dull. If he were wrong and she was undercover, he'd regret it. But he didn't think she was. He thought she was being as sincere as she could be. For the second time in a little over a year, Cap was going to try to lead someone home.

Contiued in “Six” pt 3