Chemical Poison

If she had to count on her fingers how many times she has been late to work because Howard had stayed the night and delayed them to get blueberry muffins. It would be three. It was beyond embarrassing. For the eleven-minute drive, Anneliese was drilling him with questions and instructions about what today's meeting was about. A rather important one. It would be the first time all the managers were in the same room for three months. Anneliese would meet the new hires, Harold was going to propose the split of Anneliese's old department, and Miss Cotton was finally going to join the meeting.

In all honesty, the meeting was a big deal.

"Jarvis found some potential places for us to visit after the meeting," Howard said, his eyes staying on the road. "He found some in the lower east side that I think you will be interested in. Another one in Brooklyn, and a few in the upper East side as well."

Her eyes stared at him questioning.

She watched as his lips curved into a smile, "Just wait and see."

She didn't like that answer.

Anneliese did end up being late for the meeting. Once again, Jarvis was waiting at the front entrance as Howard threw him the keys and rushed both of them inside. Usually, the foyer was busy with staff, but with it being ten minutes past nine, most were already in meetings, laboratories, or offices.

Neither spoke as the elevator moved. Instead, Howard had his hand strategically wrapped around her back - resting on her hip bone. It seemed words were no longer needed to communicate. His hands and the smirk that was plastered across his face were enough of a tell: he found her flustered to be amusing.

Suppose it was, Anneliese thought. Howard had regularly been late to most of his meetings, in fact, she remembered a time he was explaining to Alexander that he plans to be late... hence he isn't truly late. It was a weird concept, one that Anneliese couldn't get her head around.

As the elevator doors opened, Howard's pace is slow and leisurely. It was almost irritating.

Almost.

Taking a step into the meeting, the chatter ceased. A glance at the walk clock told her she was more than twelve minutes late. Turning to face Howard, she glared at him before she walked to the empty seat next to Miss Cotton. As she sat down, she realised her mistake instantly.

Alexander Gray sat opposite her. His grin was toothy, showing the white of his teeth. Her eyes drew to his fingers where he tapped his left hand. A blush grew on Anneliese as he was referring to her new wedding ring.

It was utterly humiliating.

Howard eventually takes the seat at the very end, next to Anneliese and Alexander. The meeting commences.

"Harold, if you would like to begin", Howard says.

She watched as the man shuffled his papers before coughing into his handkerchief.

"I'll like to introduce the new leadership that has joined us. Mr Francis Clementine was promoted to Head of Weaponry. He was Cambridge's brightest engineer and recently gained a business degree at Harvard."

He looked young, Anneliese thought. His hair was blond, not as white as Alexander's but a dirty colour. He had a lean build and his suit looked a bit big on him.

"Mr Gregory Chambers, the second in command for customer service - has now been promoted as the head. He's the one that thought of the home delivery service, Mr Stark."

Howard mumbled in agreement as Anneliese studied a face she recognised. He had a stocky build that his clothes did nothing but emphasise. Gregory Chambers' hair was greying, and if Anneliese had to guess, he had to be in his late fifties.

"Dr William Montague, the lead engineer in the automobile department has taken the position as the manager."

She also recognised him. Similar to Gregory Chambers, he was an older man with grey hair. Although his gut wasn't nearly as large as Gregory Chambers.

"Lastly, Miss Amelia Cotton. She's been leading the communication department whilst Miss Lorenz," Anneliese cringed at her surname just as Alexander kicked her foot under the table, "Has been working on Project Rebirth."

The room was silent at Miss Cotton's introduction. Men.

Harold seemed to not note the silence as he continued his agenda.

"Additionally, it was signed by the higher-ups," Harold said as he nodded his head towards herself, Alexander, and Howard, "To officially split the communications department to public relations and marketing."

Silent. It was always so silent.

At least none of them argued against it.

Soon, conversation resumed. Questions on who will be leading the two, whether the change will cause budget cuts, and enquires about the new "best thing" Stark Industries will produce. It was a long meeting, eventually a vicious meeting between Anneliese and Dr William Montague.

About an hour in, she felt Howard's hand on her lap. Snapping her head in his direction suddenly caused the room to grow silent.

"Care to share?", Alexander said smugly.

Snapping her eyes on Alexander she glared at him.

She watched as Alexander leaned back in his chair, the same smug smile still plastered across his face.

There were some days she didn't understand Howard's desire to throttle him, but today wasn't one of those days. She wanted to make him bleed.

"I believe, what Ana was referring to," Howard said, jumping in for her as she stared down Alexander, "Is a solution she came up with."

At a different time, she would act surprised. Frustrated that Howard had left her out of another plan - another secret. But at this time, with this Alexander and this version of her... all she cared about was finding the most vicious way for Alexander to die.

Perhaps pierced to death by vodka glasses. Waterboard him with his preferred choice of whisky. Maybe even humour him with a bad case of chlamydia. The options were endless.

"Miss Cotton will lead the marketing team, as that was the segment she previously assist in. Budgets will remain the same, and Stark Industries will not release a new product range until after the war."

Her eyes didn't leave Alexander as Howard spoke. She watched as his smile faltered and he slowly stopped leaning on his chair. Victory could be found in the strangest places, and Anneliese Lorenz was no loser.

"And what of the press-", Harold stops before correcting himself, "Sorry, I mean public relation department?"

Alexander was shrivelling up, growing smaller by the second. Anneliese wondered if he would shrink enough for her to step on him, just like an ant. There was a whole different world occurring around them, but to her- ensuring Alexander's demise was important.

He had tried stripping her dignity in the meeting, knowing exactly Howard's antics-

A squeeze on her leg and her eyes snap back to Howard.

"I believe Ana has time on her hands with the conclusion of Project Rebirth. She will lead the public relations department, whilst also being the person of contact if I cannot be reached."

Howard's eyes were on hers as he grinned with his next statement.

"However, Ana has taken leave for the next week and from October 15th to mid-November. So I suppose we will still need to hire a second in command."

And there it was, the secret he had kept.

Why on earth did she need leave for this week and for October?

The meeting eventually concluded. Another hour had passed as new arguments arose, predominately between Alexander and Harold over the funding that Alexander felt he wasn't receiving. Eventually, Miss Cotton was questioned about her capabilities, and Anneliese was impressed that she managed to hold herself against the vipers she call colleagues. When it did end, finished with Howard shouting that he was over the bickering and to continue it without him present, all of them left. Anneliese had watched Miss Cotton leave, already engrossed in a new argument with Mr Chambers. She was interested to know who would win: customer service or marketing.

Then it was just the three of them, just like old-time sake.

"I hate you", Anneliese hissed across the table at Alexander, "Are you completely out of your mind?"

Alexander laughed and Anneliese wished that would be his last breath, alas she had never been that lucky before.

"Gray," Howard said, "Come on, you know better."

She watched as he rolled his eyes as he flipped off Howard.

"Every since," he wavered his hands towards them, "this happened. You both have lost your sense of humour."

It was Anneliese's turn to roll her eyes.

"And who's fault is that?"

A grimace appeared on Alexander's face as he stayed quiet.

Turning back to face Howard, she glowered at him.

"Since when did I take leave?"

"When you said you wanted to take Christmas off earlier in the year."

Oh. Oh. Oh.

She had completely forgotten her breakdown before the World Exposition of Tomorrow. It felt so long ago, yet, not nearly far away. She had asked for Christmas off, not that October to November was Christmas.

Mumbling in agreement, Anneliese began packing up her bag as the other two did the same. In a matter of minutes, the three were making their way to the elevator. As she stood there, she didn't think to see what button Howard had pressed until she found herself in the foyer again.

"Why are we here?", Anneliese whispered to Howard.

Howard's hand found her back quickly, guiding her through the now bustling foyer as many employees entered with baked goods and left their offices for lunch. Then she saw her: tall, rosy cheeks, brown eyes, and soft auburn hair.

Maria Bernard.

Turning to give both Alexander and Howard a puzzling look, she wondered what other secrets the two held. She hated secrets before, but now she was starting to understand the difference between a secret and a secret. Though, both- the same, Anneliese knew they were so much more. Secrets were simple and often for surprises. They were presents under the Christmas tree. A ring and blueberry muffin in the morning. Leave she forgot to submit. But secrets were so much worse. Perhaps she would only be able to think of them as the whispers between her parents. The science behind the super serum. The words left unsaid between known foes.

And she had no clue what Maria would be: a secret or a secret.

As they walked towards her, Anneliese hugged her. She hadn't seen her since before the Exposition, but that wasn't anything new. The two rarely saw each other. A part of Anneliese was guilty that she spared little time for her closest friend, but that was adulthood she decided. It was becoming stretched thin, unable to stop until they were miles away - too many knots to keep them close. She suppose that was the curse of a lost childhood, of a childhood filled with blood, family, and war.

But she knew Maria had to understand, her upbringing wasn't any better.

They stayed silent until they arrived at the car. Without thinking, Anneliese took the passenger seat next to Howard, who was in the driver's seat. That left Maria and Alexander in the back. The engine roared to life as they began driving. After a minute, Howard's hand was on her lap whilst Anneliese dug into her bag slowly flickering through the paperwork she needed to review by the end of the week. It seemed whilst Miss Cotton was good as her replacement, she was much better at the marketing side of things.

Maria's presence was forgotten, and so was Alexanders. She just continued with her work, making comments to Howard as she reviewed one of the press releases one of the assistants had drafted. It stayed like this for a few minutes before the hush whispers in the backseats caught her attention.

"Are they always like this?"

"Unfortunately."

Scribbling notes on the paper, Anneliese couldn't stop listening.

"It's revolting isn't it?"

"Does Papa know?"

Her writing soon turned into scribbles as her eyes flickered into the review mirror, watching Alexander cover his mouth as he whispered in Maria's ear.

"Papa?"

"Her father, stupid."

"Oh! Josef!"

Alexander's loud shout drew the attention of Howard as their eyes both met in the review mirror. He raised his eyebrow at her.

"Care to share?", Howard said, mimicking the same smugness as Alexander in the meeting.

Closing her eyes briefly, she knew Howard had just given Alexander all the confirmation to say his thoughts- all his thoughts.

"I was explaining to Ana's dear friend about how gross you two have become. Acting like a married couple-"

Howard hit the break quickly and flipped in his seat to face Alexander.

"Get out," he said slowly, "or shut up."

Alexander had chosen the latter.

Quickly, Anneliese realised what they were doing. Looking at houses. That became obvious at their first stop. A boring-looking single-floor house. It became a quick no, with Maria making comments on how lacklustre it was. She couldn't help to agree.

They visited a few more before they were on their way to Brooklyn. By this time, Alexander had taken her spot at the front as she wanted to hear all about Maria's concerts. Supposably, she managed to get herself a spot to sing at a few high society events and a contract with a music institute that Anneliese couldn't recognise. Essentially, in the words of Maria, she was making more money than a car dealer in Louisiana. Anneliese wasn't sure if that was an insult.

Soon, they arrived. With the time closer to five thirty in the afternoon, the four of them were beyond hungry.

"Can we get something to eat?", Maria complained.

"You can eat when you go home," Howard replied.

"Now, that isn't a nice way to talk to your fiancee's best friend."

No one spoke a word. It seemed silence carried more weight than lead.

"Do I not know something?"

And it appeared that Alexander couldn't be trusted with a secret.

"Stark and Ana got married to avoid deportation."

If the silence was heavy before, it was thick as fog now. The car had been parked for only a few seconds, and Anneliese already opened the car door and slammed it. The more people were aware of the marriage, the more dangerous it became. Especially for her and even more so for Howard. They both had enemies, enemies that wouldn't blink at a girlfriend or a fiancee. But they would happily take a wife or a husband. Marriage suggested unity- eternity. It meant that they cared for the other, and that was the most dangerous thing of all.

As she feared what either would do if the other was taken.

It seemed Howard got the memo quickly. He had Alexander by the neck and directed him away from the car - towards a cafe to get a "coffee".

Anneliese wondered if the first press release of her new position would be a public brawl between the two.

But it did mean she was left with Maria.

"You're married?", she whispered.

In defeat, Anneliese raised her hand, flexing her fingers to show off the ring. The second ring is more obvious if one was aware of the possibility that she was married.

A gasp left her lips.

"Does Papa know?"

She nods again.

"And the risks?"

Another nod.

As the silence brewed between them, Anneliese took the time to look around in her surroundings and she was surprised to recognise it.

It was familiar.

It felt safe.

"Home", Maria whispered, "I thought you would like this area."

Indeed she did.

Although the buildings had changed, street signs switched to a more American name. Anneliese recognised it anyway. The bakery name on the right, the yellow-painted hopscotch. All of it. It was a memory of the past.

It was like walking down memory lane. She couldn't remember the last time she had come back. Donating her knitted scarves was easy, as she often posted them. But she hadn't come back.

She wasn't sure if it was shame or fear.

After all, it was hard to go back to a place that reminded her why she was even in America.

Linking arms with Maria, they walked down the cobblestones. Admiring the intricate paint on the bricks of houses and the watchful eyes of parents as their children ran around the community square. It wasn't until they reached the middle of the square, standing directly in front of the community hall that she recognised one of the faces.

"Anneliese?", the elderly man said, "Is that you?"

A sad smile fell across her lips as she stepped towards the man who had saved them. He was missing a leg, appeared to be growing blind, and his head was now bald. Even with his face wrinkled and neck layered in three of her knitted scarfs. She would always know the face of the sailor that stayed awake the entire time. Through the rough waves and rains. Through the days were food was scarce and creeks in the ship suggested one more storm and it would crack - leaving them floating, at the mercy of the freezing ocean.

It was nice to see Captain Otto Gustov.

"My, my my," he said, as he limped towards her. Taking her hand in his own. "Haven't you turned into a beauty, I'm almost of the man who will marry you."

Her smile grew brighter as she laughed, "Nothing could compare to you back in the day."

A horse laugh left his throat as a crowd grew. More faces that she recognised came up to her. Mrs Otto, their grown children with a babe in their hand. Then there were the families that fled Germany with her, upper-class families that unfortunately were too closely associated with the Lorenz family to safely live in Germany. Faces from newer generations, ones that fled later and eventually found themselves in the community they all called home. Of course, there were faces she didn't know.

But they all recognised her face.

Although she hadn't come back since she left when she was young, she made sure to send whatever money, scarves, or other goods they had to spare. Although she lived luxurious, a habit hard to break from her upbringing in Germany, she made sure more than 20% of her annual income went back into the community. As her eyes scanned the clothes of the old friends and family she had made whilst living here, she knew that money was tight.

The crowd eventually disappeared and Anneliese was left in the company of Maria and Otto.

"It has been tough," he said lowly as he held onto her arm like her father. It reminded her of the fragility of the fathers that built this community, of the fathers that worked long and unethical hours to afford food in this new country. It reminded her of the women that became mothers to her, how they made her practice her knitting, her stitching and her English.

"Not many Americans buy from German stores. I've heard the Italians and Czechs have it bad as well," His eyes landed on Maria, "I'm sure your father has told you about the vandalism against the French patisserie last week."

Anneliese hadn't known any of this. Of course, she knew the public wasn't particularly a fan of whom they call "the enemy", but thousands didn't leave behind their family, their wealth, and their homes for America to spy on them. They came to live, to survive, to seek the freedom they were promised. It seemed America, the land of freedom, had conditions - and being German, Italian, or anything from the European continent meant they would only face a continued life of exclusion.

She wondered if Howard knew any of this.

"I didn't know it was so bad", Anneliese admitted as her face heated up from embarrassment.

As they reached the walkway that divided the community from the wealthy American homes, Otto stopped in his step. Still holding onto her arm.

"My dear, that is nothing to be embarrassed by. Far too many leave the community for riches and forget about us. They change their names. Adopt similar views as those who attack our houses at night, and injure our women in the broad daylight. But you? My dear," He says as he moves his hand to her hand, his fingers twisting around her ring, "Have stayed kind in a word that was so adamant in ruining you. When I first met you, screaming for your mother. I began to worry you. It was no secret about your Uncle's cruelty. Yet, when we first arrived you surprised us all. You worked until you bled, these calluses on your fingers are a tribute to that."

Her eyes grew teary as Otto's fragile fingers brushed against the calluses. They weren't as bad as they were all those years ago, but she suppose all scars stay.

"I watched you grow up, even as you moved away. The letters from Josef told us how beautiful and intelligent you had become. We all cheered you along. With every Christmas, we are reminded of you and your kindness. The scarves and the money. Without you, we would be no more."

Using her other hand, she hastily wiped away the tear threatening to fall from her eye and join her cheek. Her throat was tight, and she was only barely able to croak the words out.

"But I left," she whispered, "I left and didn't come back. I left and you all were still suffering-"

"My dear," Otto says, his eyes gentle as he twisted the ring on her hand, "There is no need for apologies. We are survivors and our battles are different now. I am just happy to see that you're happy and that you're safe-"

-They were interrupted by a cough from behind her. Turning around quickly, making sure Otto was still holding onto her arm. She studied him.

A designer suit was the first red flag.

A golden pocket watch was the next red flag.

Alarm bells were flaring in her mind.

"Go back, filth", the man sneered.

Her eyes widened.

"Do I need to remind you that I am a citizen of the Unite-"

Within a blink of an eye, Anneliese watched as the man shoved Otto harshly. She barely caught him if it wasn't for Maria. Behind the man, she watched as more wealthy individuals were making their way. An assortment of items that could possibly only be used to break store windows. Turning to Maria, words weren't necessary. The message was clear.

They needed to get Otto out of her.

They needed someone with influence.

They desperately needed Howard. Now.

Looking up at the man, he towered over her. His eyes were narrowing in on her, and Anneliese felt all the confidence in her vanish. Closing her eyes briefly she needed a plan, she needed to be frightening.

She needed to be anything but herself.

"That includes you," he sneers as he jabs his finger into her chest.

Anneliese didn't move a muscle. Her mind decided.

It was time for the world to see what Johann had created.

"Move it," the man says again, as his eyes grow beady.

Minutes before, he was terrifying, but with the distant memory of Johann - an angry American was nothing.

"No," Anneliese stated loudly.

His face grew red and she concluded that he probably has never had a woman speak against him before.

"Girl," the man drawled as she watched his beady eyes look her entire body over, "Do we need to pay a visit to the community hall to remind you how powerless you are? No one wants you here so we get to do whatever the fuck we want."

The pieces were slowly moving together in Anneliese's mind. This type of racism was not surface level, it was deep. It was multigenerational and only apparent if one looked German. She had assumed many knew she was German, her last name screamed it. But she's starting to realise how much wealth and status had kept her away from the true horrors of being a German Migrant in America, especially during a war against Germany.

"I don't believe you will-"

His palm strikes hard against the side of her cheek.

The slap echoes.

Her face contorts, anger brimming in the pit of her stomach.

"You will regret that," Anneliese sneered at him.

It seemed men are foolish creatures.

He strikes her hard again, this time it unbalances Anneliese and she trips. The gravel pierced her hands as he fell on her back. There was blood, she knew the metallic scent all too well. The pain electrocuted her nerves, her finger grappling at the silver stones. But none of it could matter. The pain was meant to hurt, that was what Johann had taught her. That she must endure pain, any type of pain. That the power that came with her name meant she had to withstand it.

The man lowered himself over her body as he sneered, "Women should be in the house serving their husbands, but I suppose yours is kissing the feet of Hitler."

Tilting her head slightly, she smiled.

"What did you do to my wife?", Howard yells from behind.