Don't Fear the Reaper
Six pt 5: Don't Fear the Reaper
Steve had pulled Six under the awning as the rain began to pour down, but she'd still gotten pretty soaked.
“Damn, that hit fast.” He murmured. The overhang barely covered the both of them; he'd backed up towards the door to make room for his companion, and swiftly removed his brown leather jacket, draping it over her shoulders and pulling it tightly around her. He noticed they were pretty close; he also noticed he didn't seem to mind. At all. In fact, he was kind of intrigued.
“Yes, it did.” Six replied quietly.
He knew it wasn't a good idea. He wasn't over Peggy, and probably never really would be. Six didn't even know who she was yet and was just beginning to get her bearings on the world. But she seemed to do whatever she wanted in general, and right now it really seemed like she wanted Steve. And as much as he knew he was playing with fire, he wasn't going to object. He was tired of always being the level headed one. Always thinking things through. He wanted to just live a little bit, do something daring, see where something went rather than plan the entire thing out. He had to admit, he was attracted to her. At first she'd been intriguing; a mystery, a puzzle to solve. She'd quickly become a complexity he couldn't resist. At some point it had turned to attraction, he wasn't sure when. Maybe the entire time, and he'd been talking himself out of it? He really couldn't be sure. But as Six stepped closer to him and put her hands on his chest, he knew he was sunk. It was probably going to be messy, but it was definitely going to happen.
“This is probably a bad idea.” He whispered. He tentatively slid his hands up her back, enveloping her in his arms. She didn't back away; she moved closer. He was looking directly into her eyes, and the gaze that met his was strong and determined.
“Probably it is.” She leaned up and kissed him, quicker than he'd anticipated. It took him a second to register what was happening. He'd honestly thought he'd have to be the one making the first move. But she'd taken matters into her own hands. He fell easily into the kiss. It had been a while since he'd done this with anyone. Natasha when they were undercover on the escalator, and that had been kind of weird but not entirely unpleasant. A woman named Tanya who he'd gone out with a few times. But it had been months, and this was, well, it was different.
He had just made himself stop thinking so damned much about what a bad idea it probably was, and was really beginning to enjoy himself. He'd drawn her in even closer, and her hands grasped his neck and everywhere she touched was like fire. It was spectacular; and then something hit them from behind and tossed them unceremoniously into the rain.
“Hey Steve, Six, we gotta go. Maria said some information just came through from the CIA and-” Bucky stopped short as he came outside. The door had shoved them both out into the weather, and Bucky stood under the awning, dumbstruck. He narrowed his eyes, first at Six and then at Steve. “What were you guys just doing?”
“Kissing.” Steve stated truthfully.
“Nothing.” Six answered, though they obviously weren't doing nothing. They still had their arms wrapped around each other and were staring back at Bucky like deer caught in headlights. She turned and gave Steve a look like he'd just said the dumbest thing ever. Which he realized he sort of had, but he wasn't going to lie to his best friend, who had seen them kissing and really didn't have to even ask. Bucky stalked back into the bar, letting the door shut. Steve glanced sheepishly at Six.
“He's mad.” Six pointed out.
“Yeah, he is.” Steve sighed, pulling them both back under the roof out of the rain. He wasn't sure whether Bucky was mad at Six for kissing him, or mad at him for kissing Six. Probably both. Bucky had a hang up about Six that he was going to have to deal with at some point. He had to admit, Six also had a problem with Bucky. There was bad blood.
Steve realized his arms were still around her. He dropped them, but didn't want to seem callous. In all honesty he wanted to still be kissing her; but the situation had changed dramatically and that would really no longer be appropriate. He slid a glance sideways. “That kind of ruined the moment, huh?”
“Kind of.” Six looked at the ground. “I guess we should go. If Maria got information, maybe... maybe they know who I am?” She looked hopeful. Cautious, but hopeful.
Steve nodded, opening the door. They had better things to worry about, more pressing things. But in the back of his mind, as he followed her back into the dimly lit bar, he hoped that wasn't the last time he'd ever get to kiss Six.
* * *
I'd ridden back to the tower with Natasha. Steve had offered me a ride, but Natasha had told him the girls already had plans to ride back together, and I didn't really want to tell the group why Steve and I wanted to ride back in the same car. The drive was strange. I was really curious about whatever Intel was waiting for me. I had a feeling it may be hard to deal with, but honestly nothing lately had been exactly easy. What could be worse than being a trained assassin with no memories, other than if they told me I'd been a serial killer or something? At the same time that I was steeling myself for whatever was to come, my mind kept wandering back to kissing Steve on the patio. I knew it was stupid. I barely had any memories and I was getting caught up and being reckless with Captain America. He knew it was stupid. Apparently we both were okay with stupid decisions. It sure had been a fun stupid decision.
“What do you keep smiling about?” Natasha asked, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.
“What do you mean?” I quickly wiped the smile off of my face.
“You. You can't keep a straight face to save your life. I've never really seen you happy before, let alone so... smiley.” Natasha raised her eyebrows.
“I, um... I was thinking about Tony singing karaoke.” I lied.
“Oh God.” Wanda groaned from the backseat.
Nat grinned. “Yeah, it is pretty bad. Trust me, it's funnier than you can imagine.” She turned on a blinker and used a key fob to get into the parking garage under the tower. I let out a sigh. Thank God she'd bought my lie. Or if she hadn't, she had decided not to press the matter.
“I'm going to go get the printouts. I'll meet you in the conference room.” Maria extracted herself from the car, and hurried into the tower. She'd had a few beers, but she was all business now. Natasha and Wanda looked at me.
“Do you want us to come with you?” Natasha asked.
“I, uh, I think I'll be okay.” I replied. Natasha wasn't soft, and neither was I. Displays of sympathy between us were strained and odd.
Wanda, on the other hand, was perfectly comfortable expressing emotions. “It might be hard. You don't know what you'll find out.” She looked at the ground.
“No, I'll be okay.” I shook my head. “Uh, thank you though.”
The women both nodded. Steve's car, and then Mayday's car (driven by Bucky) pulled into the lot. Steve got out and approached. “You ready?” He asked me, putting a hand lightly on my back. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Wanda. I saw Wanda peer at Steve, and then get a knowing look on her face. Then the two women took their leave.
“Yeah, let's go.” I said to Steve. Tony joined us when we got on the elevator.
“What?” He asked as we both turned to look at him. “Like I'm going to miss out on the fun.”
“You're drunk, Tony.” Steve pointed out.
“It's still my tower.”
I shrugged, and Steve groaned. We went all the way up to my floor, and exited. We went to the conference room and sat down. Maria came in a few minutes later. Her face was unreadable. She slid a stack of paper towards me, and sat down silently.
I picked up the pile and began to read. I read the whole thing, and then reread the top paper three times. I looked at the photographs. One was of myself. One was of a man in a floral shirt, his hair grown to a medium sized Afro as was stylish in the seventies. His dark skin and eyes stared back out at me, and I recognized him. This is Luc, I thought. I looked down at my ring finger on my left hand. I was suddenly acutely aware that a ring was missing. The third photo was of two older people. Mom and Dad. The fourth was of an infant. Marina.
I looked at Maria. “How old is she?” I asked her.
She looked pained. “Thirty seven.”
“How old is Luc?”
“Seventy.”
“My parents?”
Maria was silent.
I felt sick. I stood up, took the four photographs, and exited the room.
* * *
“You want to tell us what's going on?” Tony asked Maria as Six quietly slipped out.
Maria sighed and pulled out another stack of papers. “You want to read it, or you want the abridged version?” She looked at Steve, who was getting up to go after Six. “Steve, sit down. Trust me, she doesn't need company right now. Especially before you know the story.”
Steve sat down heavily. “Okay. Tell me.”
Maria looked at the file in front of her. “Six is Y/N Marceau, maiden name Leduc. She was born March 1st 1949 in Versailles. At twenty five she was recruited by French intelligence. At 27 she married Luc Marceau, an artist living in Paris.” Steve flinched. He'd known she might have had a spouse; he hadn't counted on finding this out half an hour after very obviously displaying his feelings for her. His stomach plummeted. Maria continued. “In 1978 they had a daughter, Marina. Marina was one when Six went to Iran with a special ops unit, and was abducted. She was considered missing for a few years, and officially declared dead in 1981.”
Steve leaned back. This was a lot more than he'd expected. It hadn't occurred to anyone that Six might have a child somewhere. Realization hit him. Marina was 37. Six had a child that she didn't know, who was now older than she was. He turned to Maria. “The little girl... she grew up without a mother?” He looked at the photos. Luc looked like a nice man. He couldn't imagine the heartbreak he must have gone through, losing his wife. He wondered what Six was even like as a wife and mother. He couldn't imagine her in that role. He'd seen her as a killer, and he'd seen her broken and unsure, and he'd seen her as a fighter. He wasn't sure who Y/N Marceau even was. And, he realized, neither did Six.
“Luc remarried in 1982. In 1986, his wife formally adopted Marina. By all accounts, she grew up loved, and now...” She trailed off.
“Now what?” Tony asked. The situation was so somber, even he didn't have anything sarcastic to say.
“Marina has two children.”
“Six has grandchildren?” Steve closed his eyes. He didn't even know how to begin figuring out how Six was supposed to deal with this knowledge. They'd figured some siblings, maybe, parents, probably gone. No one had banked on children and grandchildren.
“Yes.” Maria replied. “It's all in the file. I'll get another copy. You can take this one.”
Steve nodded. “You realize she can't see these people, right? Hydra will find her if she does.”
“Hydra probably already has eyes on them. We need to figure out what to do about that. They may be in danger.” Tony pointed out the obvious. Suddenly, Friday's voice rang out from a speaker in the back of the room.
“I'm sorry to interrupt, but I have urgent news for you, Mr. Stark.” Friday said.
“What is it, Friday?” Tony asked.
“Well, it seems that Six has... taken a quinjet.”
“She's what?” Tony stood up, but sat back down quickly, obviously tipsy.
“She's stolen a quinjet, sir. She appears to have gotten into the landing deck through the vents, and she took the jet. I thought you'd like to know.”
“Thank you, Friday.” Tony put a hand on his head. “Shit. I could catch her in my suit, but I cannot fly like this.”
“Do you think she's going to try to meet her family?” Maria asked. “That doesn't seem like her at all.”
“No.” Steve stood up. “She's going to protect them. They'll probably never know she's there.” He took a few steps towards the door. “I'm taking Bucky. We'll go after her. Everyone else is too inebriated. Maria, have Nat on standby in case anything goes down here. Does the file say where her family lives?”
Maria shook her head. “No. She'll have to figure it out some other way.”
“Shit.” Tony muttered. Maria and Steve turned to him. He looked up sheepishly. “She stole my iPhone.”
* * *
See here's the thing. I was being kept on the 25th floor, but technically I knew I could get out whenever I wanted, and they also knew that. It was more of a gentleman's agreement that I wouldn't disappear. I thought about this often. I had never planned on just leaving, but looking at that file, and finding out what I had just found out... knowing what I knew about Hydra... I had to go. I had to get my family to safety, even if they never knew why. Even if I didn't know much about them at all, I knew you protected family. I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, and though I couldn't put my finger on what it was, I knew something bad was out there waiting.
I had pocketed Tony's phone when he'd been looking the other way, and as soon as I got into my room I'd crawled up into the vents. I'd figured Tony's building would have vents large enough for a person, for only one reason- in case he ever had to hide in them. I was right. As I snuck across the launchpad, I wondered if I could fly the jet they had. It turned out, I could. Hydra had apparently trained me to fly a various selection of vehicles, because it only took a minute or two to figure out the controls. This particular jet could lift off and land without a runway. Straight up into the air. That was neat, I thought, as it lifted off and headed out into the night.
The phone I'd stolen from Tony began to blow up with text messages and phone calls. I ignored them. They all were pleading with me to come back. They had to know I couldn't. I blocked all of the numbers, easily figuring out the device. They'd know where I went; I wasn't tying to evade them. I hadn't gotten any message from Steve. I left his number unblocked. I looked up the name of my daughter on the iPhone, trying to find where she lived. I could barely remember her. I vaguely recollected a beautiful little girl with curly black hair and tan skin. My mind went to the day I'd been abducted. My coworkers had been asking me if I was ready to be back, and now I knew why. I'd been upset, tired of everyone questioning whether I should be at work with a young child. Tired of everyone insisting that I decide one or the other and that doing both was somehow weird. It wasn't. Looking around the world now, tons of women did. I'd made the decision to serve my country and it was important to me that my daughter know her mother was strong. I realized, with horror, that my last memory before complete darkness, as the Winter Soldier had dragged me from the flipped vehicle, was of her. I felt dampness on my cheeks and realized tears had started to pour down my face over a child and a life I didn't know.
I had a long flight ahead of me, and that meant a long time to think about things. I looked at the photos again. I clearly remembered Luc now, but didn't have an overwhelming number of memories. I'd fallen in love with him in college. He'd been an artist, a free thinker, an old soul. I remembered getting married- it had been a small ceremony. I didn't remember having Marina, but I remembered her as an infant. I remembered loving her and wanting to be around her every second, but also being anxious and wanting to go back to work. The file said Luc had remarried. I felt very distant about that, but I was glad in a way. It seemed illogical, and lonely, to think someone would stay single for 36 years after thinking his wife had died. My child needed a mother, and my old lover deserved another chance at happiness. I didn't really know either of them, and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt. I gulped. I couldn't help being even more angry at the Winter Soldier now that I knew about the life that I had been robbed of.
Tony's phone chimed again, and I looked down. It was a message from Steve. All it said was, “We've got your back.” I set the phone down. Where did this even put Steve? Would he wait while I remembered my old life in order to figure out my new one? Did I want him to? I re read his message. I wasn't sure who “we” was, but I had figured Steve would come after me sooner rather than later.
* * *
Steve entered the common room on the 18th floor. Clint, Sam, Bruce, Natasha, Wanda, Mayday, and Bucky all sat on the sofas surrounding the coffee table. Everyone besides Natasha and Bucky had had a bit too much to drink. They'd be worthless right now. Thor was off in Asgard, and Vision was... he wasn't sure. “Bruce, Natasha, Maria needs you. She'll catch you up on what happened, but Bucky and I need to leave, and we need some, er, non drunk people to hold down the fort. You'll be in connection with Jim, and probably French intelligence.” Natasha and Bruce nodded, stood up, and went to find Maria.
“Where are we going, exactly?” Bucky asked.
“We need to go after Six. She stole a quinjet and went to protect her family.” Steve replied quickly.
“Her family?” Wanda asked, wide eyed.
Steve nodded. “Six was born in 1949. She was kidnapped by Hydra in 1979.” Steve tried his hardest not to look at Bucky as he said that, but everyone's eyes slid towards the man with the metal arm anyways. Bucky grunted unhappily.
“Yes, okay? It was me. I took her.” He frowned and turned to Steve. “So she went after her parents or brother or sister or something?”
Steve shook his head. “Her daughter.”
Bucky's eyes were the size of dinner plates. “Oh shit. It's not mine is it?” He asked in a panicky voice.
Steve shook his head. “No, Buck. She had a daughter before Hydra abducted her.”
Bucky let out a sigh of relief. Then his eyes got sad. “Oh. Ohhhh shit.”
“Yeah.” Steve replied as it dawned on Bucky what exactly he'd taken Six from. “She figured, probably rightfully so, that her daughter and ex husband, and grandchildren, are in danger. But if Hydra has their eyes on them, we can't let her go alone. She could get taken again, and we already know they want her dead.”
Bucky stood up. He may not like Six, but he wasn't about to let Hydra kill her and her family, especially when the entire fact of her being there in the first place was his fault. “We need to move.” He looked at Steve. “You need to not wear your uniform.”
“What?”
“Hydra doesn't know she came to us. If you show up in a blue and white suit, they'll know exactly where she is.” Bucky pointed out.
“You're right. I've never had to hide my identity before.” Steve frowned. He needed to be on his game better, but undercover stuff wasn't his forte. He was used to making his presence known.
“I have plenty of spare armor. It'll have to do.” Bucky motioned for Steve to follow him. He bent and kissed Mayday on the forehead, and he and Steve exited the room. They got the armor from the locker room. Bucky was a tiny bit smaller than Steve; the armor was a little bit tight, but it would have to work for now. He needed something bullet proof to wear that didn't scream 'Captain America.' His shield was problematic.
“Bucky, they'll know who I am by my shield.”
“Shit.” Bucky looked around. “Can you fight without it?” He pulled on a leather jacket and hit the button on his arm, camouflaging it to look like flesh.
“It's kind of my entire fighting style.” Steve frowned. He picked it up.
“Spray paint, geniuses.” Tony walked in, hearing the tail end of their conversation.
“It'll chip.” Steve pointed out.
“Not the kind I use on my suits.” Tony picked up the shield. “This is a shit disguise. A huge blonde guy with a shield, but it can't be Steve Rogers because he's mysteriously wearing black.”
“Tony, it's the best we can do under the circumstances.” Steve was getting annoyed.
“At least take a gun. No one expects you to show up with a gun. A big gun. I'll have this back in five minutes.” Tony took the shield and walked back into the hallway, slightly unsteady on his feet. He returned a few minutes later and handed Steve his shield. It was now purple, with a yellow lightning bolt across it.
“Are you serious?” Steve gaped at the shield. What the hell was Tony thinking? “You couldn't have gone with black?”
Tony shrugged. “No one would ever expect you to show up with that thing. I just made your disguise better. Everyone will wonder who the 'Purple Lightning' is. You can thank me later.”
* * *
Steve and Bucky's jet had been flying for a while when Bucky finally spoke. “You really like Six, then?”
Steve looked up from a map, surprised, and met his friend's gaze. “That's not really important right now, I don't think. We need to plan-”
“We already have a plan. You and I know each others every move. We don't need more of a plan than we have in place. I asked you a question.” Bucky's face looked like it was made of stone.
Steve sighed, putting the maps down. He looked out the windshield into the night, and back to Bucky. “I think so, yes.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, okay. I do. What I know about her.”
Bucky was quiet for a while.
“Is that a problem?”
“I don't know, is it?”
“I... to be honest, I do have a little bit of a hangup on her history.”
“Which part of it?”
“The part with you.”
“Of everything in her history, your problem is that she's slept with me?” Bucky raised his eyebrows. “That seems weird coming from you. You always accept people and the decisions they've made.”
“Not that she's slept with you, exactly. If you'd both been honest and it had been a relationship, or a one night stand, I could get around that fine. The part that bothers me is that is was all a spy game. You both manipulated each other. I don't know why, but that bothers me.” Steve sighed. “I think it's because neither of you have really gotten over it. You both still hate each other. I can't reconcile having these kinds of feelings for a woman my best friend hates, and the other way around.”
Bucky stared straight ahead. “I don't hate her.”
“You don't?”
“No. I don't hate her, Steve.”
“Then what's the problem?”
Bucky looked at him. He looked pained. “She reminds me of myself. Every time I look at her, I remember what I used to be. Do you know how hard that is, when what you used to be was nothing good?”
Steve thought about this. He honestly should have figured it out sooner. Six reminded him a lot of Bucky, that was true, and the Freudian logic behind that would just have to wait because he didn't have time to figure it out right now. But he'd never stopped to think that maybe Bucky didn't hate Six; he hated the part of himself that she reflected back at him. “I didn't realize, Bucky. I never would have had her stay at the tower...”
Bucky nodded. “Yes, you would have. Because it was the right thing to do. And I never objected, also because it was the right thing to do. I don't have to be happy about it to accept it.”
“Do you have a problem with... what happened earlier?”
“That's not my decision. That's between you and Six.” Bucky stated gruffly. “It was just... surprising. I wanted to know if I need to brace myself for more of it and get used to it.”
“I have no idea. She just found out... a lot of information. It was one kiss. On the back patio of a bar in Brooklyn. I don't know where we stand, if anywhere. She may have been testing the waters. I don't know.” Steve watched the stars twinkle in the sky beyond the front end of the jet. This evening had quickly gone from amazing, to heartbreaking, to insane. To find out the woman he'd been dedicating all of his time to helping, had a husband and a child and grandchildren... it was a lot to take in. He thought about how ironic it was that one woman who he could have spent his life with was now old and gray and he had missed all of it, and the other was young and vibrant but had herself missed out on a life. He didn't have children or grandchildren with the woman who he'd been young with, and the young woman he knew now had both of those. It was a strange place to be in. It didn't really change how he thought of her, but it complicated matters a lot.
“She might not even like me anymore, once she remembers her old husband.” Steve pointed out. “And it wouldn't be my place at all to stand in her way. I barely know her.”
“You're kidding, right?” Bucky raised a brow at him.
“She was in love with him. Probably still is.”
“You're in love with Peggy.” Bucky replied pointedly. “Her husband is old now, and remarried. There's nothing for you to stand in the way of. As sad as that is, there isn't anything for her to go back to. Just like there isn't anything for you and Peggy.” He paused. “Sorry to put it so bluntly, Steve, but it's true. ”
“I know. Peggy said the same thing this morning.”
“How is she?”
“She's forgetful. But still on top of things. She asked about you.”
“That's got to be a hard situation, pal.”
“Yeah, it is.” Steve continued to look out into the distance. Neither of the women in his life exactly made things easy. He felt like his heart was always being torn in one direction or the other.
“Listen, if you have a thing with Six, I'm not going to be an asshole about it.” Bucky finally said.
“You're kind of a jerk about everything.” Steve admitted with a grin.
“Okay, I'll try not to be an asshole about it.” Bucky punched him in the arm. “No promises. But I'll try.”
“Thanks. I don't know if anything will happen, but I do care about her, more than I should probably.” Steve admitted.
“Funny how things turn out that way.” Bucky murmured.
* * *
I'd set the jet down in a clearing near a stand of houses in a small town in northern France. This seemed like a quiet place, but I knew as well as anyone that Hydra was sneaky. It was probably a trap. It was daylight in this part of the world, and I walked down the streets of the village, looking at street numbers. The house I was looking for sat back on a small lot. There was mail overflowing from the mailbox, and a stack of newspapers on her front porch. I looked around, stepping off of the sidewalk and disappearance between houses. I peered in the window. There were toys on the floor of the sitting room. After a brief inspection, I concluded that no one was home. I pulled out a small knife I'd found on the plane, and jimmied the back door open. I closed it quickly and started looking around the house. I needed to know where Marina and her family had gone.
I tossed the kitchen and the living room, and was making my way down the hall when a form leapt out at me from a doorway. I ducked, rolled out of the way, and swung my foot out to trip the intruder. It was a male. He fell, but did a kip up and we were both back on our feet, eyeing each other and circling. He had two swords, both of them drawn, and a red reinforced bodysuit that also covered his face. I glanced down at the small knife I held, and the pistol tucked into the waist of my jeans. I wasn't exactly well prepared, but I'd had worse odds before and lived to tell about it.
The man dropped his shoulder and came at me with one of his swords. I sidestepped, barely making it out of the way as he swung the blade down and it cut a deep gash in the wooden floor. I spun, kicking him in the back, away from me and down the hall. He hit the wall, turned, and threw a sword, which I evaded. It stuck in the bookshelf behind me.
“How fast are you?” The man asked, rather jovially if I was being honest.
“Fast enough.” I replied, reaching back and pulling the sword from where it had stuck. Now the odds were more satisfying.
“And humble, too. They don't make mercenaries like they used to, I'm tellin ya.” He quipped. “What happened to 'silent but deadly'? And what, did you conveniently forget to bring weapons?”
“It apparently ended with you.” I leapt at him, countering his sword with the one I now had, and landing a punch to the side of his face.
“My witty banter is what makes me charming.” He replied, grabbing me and tossing me down the hall.
This man definitely wasn't Hydra. They'd have cut out his tongue by now for not shutting up. Who was this guy, and what did he want?
Continued in Six pt 6: Something Wicked This Way Comes