Chemical Poison

Three white lilies rested against an unmoving stone, only luminous from the candle-lit lantern placed on the dirt ground. It was a quiet night, not nearly enough noise. Yet, its silence was deafening for the two bodies standing tall in front of an unmoving - unnamed - stone.

Never to be a gravestone, but forever a symbol of peace and wonder. The lilies appeared to be misplaced, as beautiful flowers should never be carelessly left behind on a rock. Yet, two bodies stared down at the rock, their keen eyes catching onto small specs of gold within the rich earth.

"They had to do it." She spoke, barely a whisper. Nothing compared to the unnerving silent wind. "It was too dangerous-"

The body next to her had clutched onto his walking cane, as if the ground would swallow him up if he let go. A grumble falling from his lips before he nodded his head towards the candle. It was instantly picked up by her, bringing light to the man next to her.

He appeared to grow older in a matter of hours. Trading his youth and humanity for the shell of a skeleton. His sunken eyes stares back at hers, so unlike the firm beady black eyes she owned. Where his green eyes used to meet hers... now only a musty dull grey remained.

A life was lost, and Anneliese wasn't sure who's had been taken.

Abraham Erskine's, a body no longer present. Forever to be ash in an abandoned garden with no gravestone of his own.

Or her father; the corpse that Abraham could never be.

Anneliese did not go out for drinks that night.

Minutes passed readily and the sun rose all the same. Each and every second alerted Anneliese that she was still alive. Heart thumping and blood gushing. By the second hour, she was aware that in a different world she may not been able to blink. 

There was a small chance - alas a likely chance - that she should've been cremated with Abraham. And perhaps that was what kept her up during the night. Not the eerie stillness of Howard and Alexander sleeping in the double bed next to her's, or the creaking noises of the fragile hotel. It wasn't so much as becoming a forgotten grave sight like Abraham or the possibility of death that kept her up.

She knew her death was certain, sooner than later. 

That was a fact she had came to terms to when she watched her mother die before her eyes. It was foolish and naive for her to believe anything else.

She feared living more. The chance that she never got to live in the first place, to breathe with purpose and will - and not the demands of others. To be in control of her life; to be independent of all the strong men in her life that believes they're fit to choose her fate. It was the tug and pull of wanting to be educated and to be a mother, to work for her livelihood but to relish in the domestic bliss of motherhood.

And if Anneliese knew anything for sure, the Lorenz's never had a lucky chance with the dice. A cost for every luxury; living was a constant card game with no victory. The sheer probability of her reaching her desires and wishes were close to impossible. Statistically speaking, Anneliese knew her chances were lower than any number she could comprehend. And Anneliese knew a lot of numbers. But she knew, she had no one else but to blame... but herself.

After all, she was the one to get herself into a mess that could only result in death.

If it was hers or another, regardless blood would be shed. And Anneliese fears for the time when she would be the executioner, to stain her fingers red once again. 

By the seventh hour, she knew Alexander and Howard were awake. The two were whispering, perhaps arguing, but Anneliese could only stare ahead.

She was damned to this fate since the day she was born. The curator of this all, the biggest punisher in her life was the one she was in debt to the most. Forever unable to scream and cry, to complain and demand why. 

How was she meant to accuse her mother for setting her up to fight in a war she saw coming, when her sacrifice resulted in the life she would protect with such violence: defying her father, arguing against government officials and somehow in a contracted romance with her boss. All came with threats, and the time will come where she will meet her verdict.

A time where she would face the judge, jury and executioner. 

Once again, Anneliese was faced with another transaction. Opportunity in the form of a terrible circumstance. It was wrong for her to detest her mother in this moment, even when she laid in a bed much older than her father, but she was certain their was a crawling temptation to loath her.

She had placed the fate of the war on a thirteen year old girl, one that had already faced so much violence. 

Promise me you will finish this war, promise me that you will end this... no matter what.

Expected to do the impossible. She could never meet her mothers dying expectations - and her father was completely aware of that. Always pushing her away from it.

A tug and pull; waves clashing with sand; oil mixing with water. 

Anneliese will never be able to please both parents. She could never stand with her mothers family, and her fathers wasn't any better. She was the product of corruption and-

"-Anneliese?"

Snapping her gaze. Her face; a picture perfect illustration of anger and resentment. Disappointment spread across her cheeks, staining them red. A truth was found, one she hated... one that had no right to dictate her life.

And yet it did.

She would never be good enough, perfect enough. She could not stop a war that her parents, at one point, encouraged. She could not stop a war that bled from the sore wounds of past resentment. She could not solve the impending doom of racism and murder.

Her father could be a synonym for unyielding, her mother was the definition of cunning. Perhaps Alexander could be described as what money could make and break, and Howard was...

...well, Anneliese knew what he was.

Not so much a first love or crush, not some sort of silly little contract she signed so many years ago. It was so much more. Not an itching rash that Alexander sometimes embodied. Not the face of expectations and reminders of what her duties should be... he wasn't traditional like her parents.

He was new, different and sometimes she found herself utterly addicted to.

Vodka.

Absolutely, and utterly.

Whereas everyone else was just words. Including her uncle,  a symbol of corruption dressed in suits at a young age; the power money had to ruin.  Her cousin, Oskar, was and would always will be a simple abbreviation of monsters lurking within shadows. And yet, it was Howard.

He wasn't words. He was a feeling. A specific type.

He felt like how vodka tasted.

Alas the truth was revealed: she could not meet her parents expectations because Howard existed. A variable they didn't account for, a possibility that her chances of happily ever after could be true.

What she didn't know was... the Stark men never had much luck at the forever part of things.

Boredom was a bad way to explain her current state. Seated on an uncomfortable stool next to Alexander, the two watched Howard and Josef pull apart the machinery captured the day prior. In which, such a day could ever be called the day prior, was the submarine that the Hydra spy attempted to escape in... after murdering Abraham Erskine. 

Thankfully, Anneliese wasn't the one to make her boredom a known fact.

"How much longer are we going to have to watch you two fangirl over technology?" Alexander said rather frankly. Anneliese nearly buckled over in laughter at the sight of him: restrained to a similar uncomfortable stool, far too small for his long lanky legs and barely able to keep his energy in check. He was vibrating in energy, much like a child holding in their excitement for a Friday afternoon ice-cream.

Neither men made a sound, and Anneliese decided she could just watch Howard work. It was always her favourite view. Yet it seemed, she would not get to study him. Eyebrows. Lips. Cheeks. Eyes. As Alexander had other plans.

She felt him nudge her waist, drawing her attention to the blonde haired prat - far too entitled and wealthy for her liking.

"Do you want to play a card game-"

"NO!"

Howard's voice startled everyone within the room. Engineers, agents and politicians alike. An explanation was offered after Howard gave the majority of the room an apologetic smile.

His gaze reseted on Anneliese now, stuck on her's which felt like an entirety.

"What I meant to say," he said, clearing his voice. Anneliese's eyes darted towards her father's, he hadn't reacted in the slightest to the noise. Too busy with his cool emotionless frown as he continued to tinker with the engine of the submarine. "Is that Grey will suggest gambling."

Raising an eyebrow, she could hear Alexander struggling to stifle a laugh from his throat.

Howard pointed his spanner at Alexander, "I would very much like you to not rob my girlfriend of her money."

Sharply turning to face Alexander, he had already raised his hands, feigning what she assumed to be innocence from his sudden toothy smirk. "So little faith in Ana?"

That was bait, she knew it.

He didn't take it, as if he assumed he would say it. "I have complete faith that Ana would play fairly, whereas you..." he drawled. His gaze shifted to meet Alexander's. "You spent far too many nights with the mathematic guys at college to be trusted to play fairly."

Groaning, Anneliese suddenly knew what Howard meant. Alexander would win against her rather quickly.

"Fair fair," Alexander replied. He nearly whispered his next sentence to no one in particular, nearly. "Why don't we gamble with Starks money instead?"

Instantly, both Anneliese and Howard started a long lecture on the absurdity of gambling with Howard's money - or the lack of. He was wealthy, that was a fact. But he did not have an enormous amount of money lying around like Alexander. Whereas Alexander Grey would spend any money as disposable money, Anneliese knew Howard reverted most of his profits back into his business. So, as his net worth grew, his disposable money remained the same.

Of course, Anneliese knew that his disposable money was his absurd. As it always was with men in business.

But Alexander didn't need to know that, he only needed to know he was wrong.

Sometime within her lecture to Alexander, Howard had resumed working on the machinery and Colonel Philips had finally made his way towards the four. His three companions contained the new - genetically modified - Steve Rogers, Agent Carter and the senator who attempted to throw her out the night prior.

Watching the Senator's frown, evidently unpleased by the change of circumstance because of the murder of Abraham. She nearly missed what the Colonel had said.

"What've we got?"

Slowly moving her eyes to Howard, who now had a hammer in his hands (for reasons unknown), spoke. "Well, speaking modestly, I'd say I'm the best mechanical engineer in the country..."

As he placed down the hammer and grabbed a tool she could not recognise, he opened a hatch. Her eyes widen as the circuitry was far more advanced than anything she had ever seen before. Snapping her eyes to her father's, she watched him blink. And then blink again. Clearly, Hydra had advanced far more then he expected.

"...And I've got no idea what any of this is or how it works. We're nowhere near capable of this technology."

Howard wasn't wrong. The Colonel and his company continued to talk, and between hush whispers - whispers she could barely hear. Her father spoke to Howard.

Josef Lorenz was not a quiet man, the pubs in Germany could vouch for that. But when his voice dropped several octaves lower, a slight hiss against his 's', Anneliese knew she should be worried. Even if she knew exactly what he was about to say, the verbal confirmation made it so much worse.

"This... this is significantly more advanced."

His sentence ended with the two working more ferociously on the machine, as if the speed and concentration earlier was just child's play. This only bored Alexander further. And yet, he was saved from his boredom.

Anneliese concluded, Alexander was the luckiest man on the planet. Always able to end his boredom swiftly and easily. 

"Also, Agent Carter. Howard... and co?" The Colonel said, his voice questionable as he said co, staring at Anneliese and Alexander. "Start packing, you're going to London tonight."

"No."

The voice didn't belong to Anneliese, who just wanted to spend the rest of the year in America. Nor did the voice come from Alexander's protests that London was a rather dull place to holiday in. It wasn't even Howard refusing to allow Alexander or Anneliese to assist in the war further.

It was her father. The corpse that should've been buried alongside Abraham. A player in her uncle's sick games. 

The words burnt her throat, absolutely.

"No."

He repeated his words, and they stung just as hard. Bypassing what his words meant, Anneliese could read between the lines - knowing exactly what he was referring too. If he got his way, she would no longer help the war cause.... because he knew she would fail. 

And Anneliese knew he wasn't wrong.

Keeping her gaze on him, Anneliese mastered all of her strength. Slowly flaking away emotions of anger and distraught. Until it was just cold, it was a veil of nothingness but the facts in front of her.

Her father wasn't her keeper, nor a father of sorts. Biologically, yes. Growing up - not so much. He was barely there, always in labs all across Europe. And once they had fled, he seemed to avoid her most of the time.

Financial, he was her father. But emotionally? Well Anneliese was only coming to terms that perhaps her parents weren't truly meant to be parents.

"That's not your decision to make." She replied, her voice matching his usual monotone voice. 

He blinked. Only once.

"Hydra is everywhere. I am much safer away from another personal target."

This time, he blinked twice.

Collecting herself further she pursued. Her tone growing more cold with every second. "You're my father and I adore you. I have listened and followed you, every step of the way - allowing you to choose every decision in my life. But it's time to let go."

Those weren't the words he expected. Yet, she noticed a small glint of curiosity dance across his musty grey eyes. She missed his green eyes. He glanced at her and then at Howard, only to return his eyes back at her, raising an eyebrow.

The unknown variable, he knew it.

"If you must," he begin. A slight quip to his words. "But if Johann or Oskar gets you..." he paused. Anneliese was holding her breathe, knowing that this was going to be the fallout. A ruination of the last family she had. 

It was simple like this. To be no longer protected by family, it was how it was. The day she decides to gain independence, she would lose her father. It was- after all the reason why she didn't drive or live on her own. It just wasn't not done like that in her peculiar family. 

She was to remain with her father... sometimes even after marriage she could be required to stay. Fathers and mothers, the head of houses - all of them dictated her life.

"...I'll have you disowned."

Arriving at the airport, Anneliese kept to herself whilst Howard spoke to the Colonel and Alexander decided it was a perfect opportunity to figure out which Agents had a gambling addiction. Exploitation. Given an opportunity, Anneliese knew that Alexander would ruin the prides of all the men within America. It was a strange hobby of his.

Standing, Anneliese opened her mouth as she stood in front of an aircraft, specically a rather small one that would not fit all the agents... and the three of them. Turning to face the Colonel, Anneliese decided to ask.

"Are we all meant to fit in that one aircraft?"

He shook his head. "After speaking to Howard, he explained that he rather take his own."

Her eyes darted towards Howard. "You have a plane?"

She wished she hadn't spoke, as she watched his grin grow at the corners. Alexander wasn't much better, laughing loudly at her own questions - as if the question was ridiculous in the first place.

"Yes I do, Anneliese." He said, rolling her name past his lips. "In fact, your captains for today's flights are myself and Alexander.

She was going to die, sooner than later.