Chemical Poison

Once again, Anneliese found herself walking down the over-crowded cobblestone pathway to Stark Industrials. Opting for a navy loose fitted sundress, it was far too warm for businesswear. So, she armed herself against the burning sun with an iced coffee, her only lifeline as she listened to Alexander drone on about how lonely the bachelor life style is. Especially sinceHoward stopped going to Los Angeles with him. Supposably, a tragic event.

"And he won't even go this weekend for my birthday!" He exclaimed, not caring that his own iced coffee had spilt onto the pavement. Splatting across the shoes of other business men, plenty growling and sneering towards him.

Taking another sip from her coffee, Anneliese couldn't stop the grin from appearing across her lips. Choosing to say nothing as he continued to ramble, that there was no one else but Howard that could keep up with his lifestyle. She couldn't help but find the irony in all of it.

After all, it was Alexander's plan to settle Howard down - and it seems his plan worked far too well.

"Could this be the concequences of your own actions?", Anneliese prompted, grinning as she took another sip from her drink.

A sneer was returned to her, as Alexander pushed his drink into her hands. Forcing her to hold it and watch as he removed his blazer, throwing it over his shoulder. The summer days in June always were too hot for formal wear. He didn't even grab his coffee back, as they turned a corner - nearly colliding with other work men.

Shoving his drink back at him, Anneliese took another sip from her coffee before she spoke, "You're more than welcome to join us at a restaurant, I'm sure Howard could agree to that."

Malice dripped from her tongue, knowing very well that this would rial up Alexander. His best friend had opted for a casual dinner - his decision completely - verses a wild night in another state. Anneliese was as baffled as Alexander, considering the year before Howard had joined him in partying it down in one of his many family homes.

This year was different.

And Anneliese could pick apart all the reasons why.

A glow hadn't left her skin since she was informed by Howard that a candidate was nearly decided on, that they would undergo standard military training before a complete decision could be made. Her smile hadn't disappeared since Miss Cotton's return, and Anneliese was finally offered the funding to hire more staff and to have a week of training.

Her press girls were tougher than nails, and it did absolute wonders.

The billboards had never been so full of Howard's face, and she couldn't be more proud. The financial meetings had less lectures from Harold over his spreadsheets, and Anneliese was thriving - no longer doing the job of far too many. She was just doing the two, significantly less than before.

Before, she was just a Press Secretary.

Now, she was so much more.

As the head of Project Rebirth, she would receive numerous letters and phone calls from Abraham, her father, the Colonel and Agent Carter on their progress. After, she would be seated at a desk, which was to the side of Howard's. She was his secretary. Once again, Anneliese made herself indispensable.

Alexander - not so much. But his reputation was all they needed, what a company always needed.

"As if," he spat, throwing his coffee in the bin as they walked, "The last dinner I went with you two... I had to listen to you corrupt Howard's mind with some science talk."

Her smile sinfully turned into a grin as she glanced up at Alexander. Her voice shaky from laughter, "I'm sure the discussion over the appropriate ratio of salt to pepper in the pasta I ordered has nothing to do with the actual science talk we both discuss."

Appearing at the front of the entrance, the two easily entered. Anneliese still finding it strange that it was just over a year ago that she struggled so much just to enter. Alexander flipped her off as he made he strut his way towards one of the many secretaries talking in the lobby before they begun work.

Unlike him, Anneliese had every desire to start work early so she could leave early.

Well, that was what she told herself.

Standing in the elevator, Miss Cotton rushed next to her. The two had formed a small bond since she returned from her small holiday to get rid of all the bad feelings over her job. Miss Cotton looked up to Anneliese, and she couldn't be any prouder of her.

She watched Miss Cotton as she ticked dot points off her list, a quirk Anneliese always did when she was the Press Secretary. Her eyes scanning over the elegantly swirled handwriting, waiting for her to begin her questions.

And she did.

With a click of her tongue, Anneliese wanted to praise the way Miss Cotton's eyes never left her page as she asked question after question. Writing notes in her own personalized short-hand spelling, tapping her pen against the paper when Anneliese took a second too long to think.

This was what it took to be a Press Secretary: you ran on no one else's time but your own. Everyone else simply had to catch up.

"I was notified last night by an assistant that an invitation to a gala has been provided for Mister Stark, I apologise for not informing you last night... No one seemed to be able to find you... or Mister Stark."

Her ears grew red as they tingled, oh did they tingle with burn . Possibly the only flaw Anneliese could pit against Miss Cotton was her lack of understanding on how words carried weight, and now she was absolutely certain that everyone in the elevator assumed she was with Howard. Completing the biggest scandal of them all, at least to Anneliese.

When that was anything but the opposite.

Lifting her chin to ensure her voice carried weight across the elevator, "Howard had retired early and I was out at dinner with some friends, I apologise for the inconvenience. Did you inform Alexander?"

She nodded her head, "He accepted the invite, however... I believe you should know tha-"

Before she could say a word, Miss Cotton was dragged out the elevator. With numerous press assistants pulling her towards the office, plenty of questions slipping past there lips. Leaving Anneliese curious about exactly what Alexander had done. Nonetheless, she continued her way to the top floor towards Howard's office.

Knowing exactly where Howard would be, Anneliese opened the door to the office widely for the corridor to see inside. She took her seat at her desk and begun sorting through all the memo's that awaited her urgent attention. Yet, Howard's desk remained silent.

Oddly so.

After a few hours of replying to letters and drafting up numerous plans for the company's future, a small squeak alerted Anneliese. Lifting her gaze up from her paper work and to the open, Alexander was there.

Leaning casually against the door way, his arms crossed.

"Can I help you?", Anneliese asked curiously, before dropping her gaze to continue reading the countless ideas Howard wanted to begin. Not knowing which invention to start with.

The click-click-click of his shoes echoed across the office as he made his way into Howard's seat. He didn't say a word, and Anneliese didn't question it. Much more interested in the new inventions Howard intended to begin whenever it would be in the company's interest. As much as he wanted to create the future, Anneliese knew he was much more afraid of poverty.

A word she would have never associated with him.

But nonetheless, it was one of the countless synonym for the Stark last name. Poverty stricken.

Scratching words against the paper, she nearly forgot Alexander was even in the room. Muttering her words aloud befote she wrote, she nearly completed the first page before she heard his sniggering.

Raising an eyebrow as she glanced up to stare at him. He had made himself at home: leaning against the chair, feet on Howard's desk and a cigar in his mouth. Choosing to ignore the countless "no smoking inside" signs that plagued the walls of Stark Industrials.

"Where is he?", Alexander asked with a dangerous twinkle in his eyes.

Narrowing her own, she instantly became suspicious of what exactly Alexander has done. "He has taken the day off, turns out he hasn't taken one since he started the company."

His grin grew, as he bore all the truth in his eyes. However, Anneliese could not decipher it in the slightest. It was a gaze, a look, a stare that he hadn't given her in a very long time. Not since her third day as press secretary-

-When he suggested her to fake date Howard for the first time.

"What have you done", Anneliese hissed.

Watching him keenly as he scoffed and threw his hands to his chest, feigning to be hurt by her words. Her eyes never left his, even as he straighten his shoulders and backed, removing his feet from the desk. His grin returned.

Hell shuttered when Alexander mastered the meticulous task that was necessary to become Mr Grey: straight back, fingers interlaced and resting on the table, and a dashing smile that screamed run.

Perhaps she would've run, had he been the scariest wolf in his life. Or the reason her life has progressively became harder...

...But Alexander was anything but a wolf. He was not terrifying in the slightest, but he was far too calculating-

"ALEXANDER"

The booming voice came from the corridor, and her head snapped to the door automatically. Her mouth gaping as she witnessed Howard walk dangerously fast towards his office - still in a white tank and grey sweatpants.

She heard a chuckle come from Alexander and she dared to glance back towards him. Instant regret set in, as she watched Alexander winked at her.

"YOU ROTTEN BASTARD- YOU FILTHY FUCKING COC-"

"Do you reckon he woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"A BLOODY GIT, I FUCKING HATE YOU-"

"How do you think he will take it if I say good afternoon?"

Before Anneliese could process anything Howard had been yelling or Alexander's sly comments, her phone rang. Usually a sound that would silence the two, only served as a reason for them to grow louder. She couldn't miss the phone call, after all she was line most called to reach Howard, and she knew if she was to pick up the phone - they will most certainly hear the display she was witnessing.

A display of near violence. Howard had entered his office and slammed his fist into his own desk, directly in front of Alexander's. As she slowly picked up the phone, her eyes did not blink... as Howard lunged forward, with Alexander only smiling even more.

"Hello, is this Miss Lorenz?"

Recognising the voice as Agent Carter, Anneliese tried her best to cover the phone with her hand. To block as much as the screaming and physical fight Alexander and Howard was playing out. It hadn't worked, Anneliese decided. As she heard a small cough from Agent Carter.

Her eyes snapped back up to find the two on the follow, witnessing Howard to throw the first punch. Completely childish, but she knew better that it took a massive amount of effort to rial Howard up this much. He wasn't a physical man, especially with violent altercations, he just pressed buttons. So, to watch Howard mercilessly attack Alexander, and for him to only giggle in return. It was completely, utterly terrifying.

"Yes- Right now isn't the best time-"

"-The candidate has been chosen, the project begins next Monday."

Mouth gapping, she hadn't even the chance to say goodbye when Agent Carter disconnected the line, leaving Anneliese even more shocked than before. It was news she hadn't expected, similarly to the act that was playing out on the carpet, red stained it.

Red stained the carpet.

Red...

Red...

Red...

Blood

Taken aback from the blood on the carpet, only a small spec, but it did all the same to bring plenty of unpleasant memories for her. The smell of bad liquor, the taste of metallic roses and the feeling of a weighted kitchen knife; it all came rushing it, whether she liked it all not. She could see it all...

Falling to her knees, battered all in sticky red blood, Anneliese moaned in pain. Wincing as she forced herself to get up again, to stand. Her legs were gooey with exhaustion, all sense of love and security robbed from the young heiress.

Night had reincarnated as a room, a dark cell filled with nothing but shattered glass on the floor and nails on the wall. It was undeniable pain. Anneliese hadn't the closest clue what she had done to be sentence such a deliriously harmful fate.

Gasping heavily as her fingers were nicked by a nail, her voice dry from the crying and tears she wasted when she woke up on a bed of glass. She was dripping, and she knew if she was too look in the mirror, she wouldn't see the usual pale skinned, brown hair and green eyed girl... but just red.

A smell of bad liquor radiated across the cell, an unfamiliar smell, but it tasted like metallic roses. Gasping once more, she barely heard the clunk-clunk-clunk of iron steel boots as she continued to hiccup in pain as she managed to stand tall, glass cutting deep into her feet.

Light spread wildly across the cell and then disappeared, a few more times and Anneliese was blinded by the light - crashing back down on the glass.  Clutching her knees, she didn't move as she whined in pain. Glass attacked every inch of her body and the flashes continued.

It was a camera flash.

Another snapshot after snapshot was taken, all whilst Anneliese winced at the new feeling of glass breaking in her skin, finding new pathways to draw out her blood. It was all red, red, red and yet she couldn't see the blood, blood, blood. And then a voice slips out from the dark, cold and menacing.

"Blood in thicker than water."

No energy remained in Anneliese, as she hugged her knees even tighter. Stiffening as she heard the crunch-crunch-crunch of shoes against glass, especially when she felt a weighted knife placed near her neck. A kitchen one in fact. The same one she used to slice up a potato.

"Get up."

Noise should have escaped her mouth, it should have been a deathly pleading scream. Instead, nothing came. Pure silence. A swift kick to her legs and she falls hard onto broken glass again, shredding her back into a million pieces once more. With the thought of another kick, another fragment of glass piecing her youthful skin - Anneliese got up.

Even if  the slightest shift burnt like wildfire, even if the tender skin that had begun to heal over had broken open again. The agony. But she got up again.

And she rose, slowly but surely. Her feet bloodied, nearly fully mutilated. Then there was light, a candle in the cell. She was certain darkness was sinking, as it offered not nearly enough light.

Illuminating the face of villainy, the man that had spent far too many years harassing and torturing her every living second. Anyone else would have seen shiny white teeth.

Anneliese saw Oskar Schmidt...

...blood dripping from his teeth.

With another loud yell from either Howard or Alexander, she was instantly brought back into her current reality. No longer trapped in a time loop of unrelenting pain. She was gasping for air, trying her best to calm down as she instinctually checked her skin for any cuts, any open wounds.

Making sure the hallucination was just that.

And the room became silent, suddenly.

"Anneliese?", Howard said cautiously, before he repeated himself, "Sweetheart."

Hearts have never ran as fast as Anneliese's, and she was struggling to remind herself that the past was in the past, and that Oskar Schmidt could not reach her - could never reach her. She was in America, watching two men fight it out in her office.

Exactly, Anneliese told herself, she is safe...

...why was Howard tackling Alexander?

Not hearing his earlier pained question, Anneliese offered a different one. trying her best t scrub the memory of the blood she could not feel, but tastes so damn sweetly in her mouth currently.

"What exactly is going on?", she asked slowly, "What has Alexander done?"

The question caused Alexander to moan on about how none of his friends trust him, that they assume he has done something bad. And once again, he had.

"The slimy toerag accepted an invitation to a gala-"

Raising her eyebrow, she witnessed Alexander somehow managed to untangle himself and force Howard onto his back. It was strange sight to see Alexander on top of Howard. And for the first time... Anneliese was glad that there was rarely a reason for anyone to be on this floor, considering it housed only Howard's office (and his apartment, a secret from the public).

Otherwise this would have been the talk of America.

"It's tomorrow, Saturday night. On Grey's birthday."

Still confused exactly why Howard was annoyed, she continued to stare at him... until he continued.

"He also made sure myself and you are invited to the biggest gala of America's wealthy, the annual Grey Gala for their beloved son, Alexander fucking Grey."

Her eyes darting towards Alexander in surprised, she wasn't even given time to register exactly what he had said before Howard spoke more firmly.

"And he informed his father, that we will happily join them for the entire seven hour event. That's a dinner, a ball - a party, all within seven hours!"

Gasping once more, Anneliese was so taken aback she hadn't realized that Alexander had managed to not only escape from Howard's clutches... but had ran down the corridor to the fire-way stair case. Coward.

Staring down at Howard, blood dripped from his nose and Anneliese slowly moved away from her desk and walked towards him, squatting to meet his face. His breathing became more elaborate as Anneliese pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket. With shaky hands, she slowly dapped at his nose, wiping away the blood.

It was red, the fabric stained a scarlet colour she hated the most.

Compulsively, Anneliese continued to wipe under his nose, causing a red colour to appear on his skin. She hadn't realized how harsh she was until she felt Howard's tentative fingers enclose around hers, his eyes meeting hers.

Slowly, she submitted to Howard's fingers as he pulled her hand away from his face and onto his knee. His hand overlapping her's.

"A secret for a secret?', he offered.

There was no need to nod, they both knew it was no longer a question.

"Blood scares me, terrifies me." Anneliese begun, her hands growing less shaky as he gently rubbed her fingers with his thumb, "I think, one day in the future, I should talk to someone about it."

Her eyes did not leave Howard's drawing into the comfort that was his golden eyes, there was definitely something golden about him.

A kiss was pressed to her temple as she closed her eyes, taking in the sound of Howard's breathing.

"I believe we can help one another out," he whispered, leaning his forehead to rest on her's, "Talk to me, and in exchange, teach me how to dance for the gala tomorrow."

A small breathy laugh left Anneliese's lips, "Is Mister Stark admitting that he isn't good at everything, dancing of all things?"

No snarky comment was returned, only a gentle smile.

"There's no need to be good at everything if my everything is good," he said, his voice just as breathy as her laugh, "You're a good person Anneliese."

If only he knew her past was painted in blood, she doubts he would still say the same.