Chemical Poison

Anneliese had been pushed down to the floor more times she can count. Her cousins, Oskar and Herbert, enjoyed the pushing- the crying- the defeated tears that spilled from her eyes. Johann was a master at it - always knowing the right words to cripple her, to force her onto her knees. Then there was other men, vicious man, like Mr Anderson and the wealthy man frozen on top of her. All of it was just a tribute how helpless she was to the men to her life, whether someone close or somewhere far.

She didn't even know the man in this incident. The other men, though reasons unjustified, had a call to action - a strange belief that they pushed with reason. There had been times she believed she deserved it, that she how it was meant to be. To be pushed, pushed, and pushed until she simply gave up. She knew the men before. She knew their reasons, whether she agreed on not with it. She knew them, and they claimed to know her as well.

"Wife?", the man sneered at her. His eyes hadn't left her's yet, still haven't seen Howard yet, still haven't realised that if he was smarter like the others - he would have at least learnt about his enemy. 

It was the first rule of war her parents taught her: know your enemy better than your friends. Know there weakness's and strengths, but more importantly, know their allies. It was the difference between a good ruler and a bad one - because it seemed allies was what won wars-

- he spat at her.

A large piece of saliva hit her cheek with too much force, and Anneliese cringed at the thought that phlegm could be mixed with it. It slowly trailed down her cheek just as the man was wrestled away from her. His angry shouts of protest were just whispers to her.

He had spat at her.

She was spitted on.

She wasn't in shock, at least she was telling herself that. She was not in shock. She couldn't be. It was just spit. It wasn't anything life threatening or dangerous. Life has thrown harder stuff at her, quite literally. Herbert had dropped a brick on her toe, followed by Oskar hitting her with his 'overdone' steak. There has been daggers, knives, open threats, and crashing waves - all more deadly than saliva.

Yet, she could not get up. Could not remove the spit it. He had spat at her as if she was some sort of animal. Was this the treatment migrants faced? Was this a regular occurrence? To be degraded? A bit of scuff on the gravel floor was one thing - that was just normal human violence But spit? 

Time moved slowly it seemed, and Howard had only made his way to her side. He had taken her hand in his and slowly helped her up to her feet. 

She didn't know it was this bad for her community, and she wondered how much worse it was when the papers reported another lost battle, another hundred men killed by the nazi's and their allies-

-Her eyes watched Howard pull his pocket handkerchief - an overpriced black silk handkerchief -  and wiped what remained of the man's saliva from her cheek. The air caught the trail it left, all the way to her collarbone. Howard followed with precision with the silk fabric, and all she could think of was the people here. The fear they must feel.

They left their homes with hardly any choice. They faced horrors these American's could not fathom. Lost children. Murdered mothers. Fathers lost to sea. Months without good food and a deep aversion towards bodies of water. All for what? To be stuck in this perpetual state of terror? When does the panic end for them? 

She could feel Howard gently shaking her shoulders. He must be trying to talk to her, she assumes, but she knows better. Her eyes dart over Howard's shoulder and see's Alexander with his hands in the air as he backs the man further down the road. A crowd had formed, perhaps the whole American neighbourhood came to watch.  

A lawsuit was certain.

To the right, she could see oncoming traffic coming to a pause as Alexander kept pushing the man and it clicks - he must be yelling. Then it occurs to her, when has she ever seen him yell? To act out so violently? He's definitely had his fair share of squabbles wit Howard, but that was the play brothers have with them (that being said, Anneliese's only comparison is Herbert and Oskar.

"Anneliese," Howard whispers, "Sweetheart."

She still doesn't look at him, instead, she whispers back, "You will buy me anything I want?"

Glancing up at him, she watched as his face contorted into confusion. There was concern written into the wrinkled frown that slowly knitted his eyebrows into one. 

"Of course, but love, let's sit down-"

"I want the park."

Anneliese titled her head as Howard's hands moved from her shoulder and slowly slid their way up her throat to cup her cheek. She waited a few moments for Howard's brain to tick into action - to realise exactly what she was up too.

"Anything else?", He replied, his lips curving into a smile.

She nodded as she reached out for his arm, pulling him to her side. Wrapping her fingers around his bicep, they begun to walk towards Alexander who was still yelling, something on the line of 'lawsuit' and 'stupid fucking wanker'. 

Leaning into his shoulder, Anneliese continued her list of demands. 

"I haven't had the chance to look inside, but the house next to the park would be nice. Has a nice large window from the kitchen."

She felt Howard chuckle under his breath, "Do you have a thing for two story buildings? Will I need to replace the staircase to marble as well?"

A grin fell on her lips as they reached the scene. The man had a black eye, his lip was split open and Alexander's fist was painted in red. Of course Alexander wasn't all perfect either, a bright purple bruise was already beginning to form on his cheek. A deep contrast to his almost translucent skin. 

"You'll have to buy the house across the road for papa, and then pay to move the marble staircase to his new place."

Staring up at Howard, her grin only grew wider as he stared back at her.

"Planning to make me America's poorest CEO?"

And then his smile was gone as his eyes rested on the man, his chest still heaving as Alexander took his own handkerchief to wipe the blood of his knuckles.

"You attacked my fiancée," Howard said, his voice cold. "You will be hearing from my lawyer."

The man's face grew redder by the second, "I would have never attacked her if I knew she was yours!", he bellowed, "Surely you understand that, I just assumed she was apart of that filthy nazi group."

That hurt.

A crowd grew bigger, she could sense the eyes from behind. A mixture of the community, on lookers, and cars parked on the side of the road. She could see the wealthier community behind the man, followed by cars hastily parking: police and paparazzi both jumping from the car.

Eventually three middle aged man appeared, sporting the usual deep blue uniform, made his way to the scene. Anneliese watched as Howard begun speaking to the officers, obviously charming his way to make sure Alexander wasn't handcuffed for his display of public violence. She listened as Howard skilfully used words to incriminate the man, and within a moment he was in handcuffs and an apology from the police was given to her.

But the damage was already done.

Anneliese wasn't leaving the community again, not after what she had experienced.

She hadn't spoken much once she watched the man be escorted towards the car. Leaving Alexander to bribe the paparazzi to not tell this story - promising much bigger that she can only expect is an Alexander Gray exclusive with his many lovers. 

Her arm remained linked to Howard's the entire time. When he spoke to another police officer to request to know who owned the park - the local district - and for the mayor's phone number. Even as Howard's pace was too fast for her liking, his step forcing her to take a brisker past, she remained by his side. 

She was spat at, and that was hardly the worst thing the man could have done to her. The sight of Otto's concern said enough. Anneliese had found herself protected from the cruelty of the world, just like she did back in Germany.

Before she fled, she had never known a day without food or the comfort of a bed. Hadn't understood the worth of gold coin and often refused to wear the same piece of clothes twice in a month. Then, she had fled. She had gone days with little food - some days without. There was months that she hadn't slept more than a few hours to sow, especially as the gold coins dwindled fast. The backlash of her fleeing had woken her up of the true hardships of the world.

And then she found herself in a bubble again.

"You must be Anneliese's fiancé," Otto said, and she could feel bile at the back of her throat. She felt so proud of the scarfs and money she was able to send back to the community. Thinking clothes and food was what they needed most. "Otto Gustav, a friend of her father's."

Howard shook the older man's hand, "Howard Stark."

Otto let loose a laugh and Anneliese could feel her mind beginning to slow down. How could he laugh after what had happened? For him to be able to look at her and know the turmoil that was running in her mind. She had left them when they needed her most. She had influence, or influence adjacent. That was what they needed, someone to protect them from a world that hated their existence.

"Everyone in America knows who you are," Otto barked out, "What can I do for you?"

Anneliese hadn't even realised that had walked back to the house next to the park. It was much larger than the other houses with a nice front porch. It was similar to her own home, much like any house in New York and surrounding areas. It differed with the front though, most front porches had a small piece of lawn with a staircase to the front porch and entrance - with usually only one spot to park a car.

This house was much bigger. There was a small picket fence and a much larger piece of lawn, nearly twice as big as most places she has seen. Glancing to the left, there was a place for two cars - unusual for new York. And then there was the porch. 

"Is this house for sale?" Howard asked, as he guided Anneliese through the small picket fence gate, trailing down the cobblestone pathway through the lawn towards the porch.

Howard offered her his arm as she stepped up the four steps to reach the top of the porch - or a patio. To the left of the door was a long wooden seat with complementary side tables, and to the right of the entrance was a table and stools that she could only assume joined from the kitchen... as the large windows must open up. 

She watched Otto jingle some keys in his pocket as he unlocked the entrance door, "More than that, been trying to sell this place for a while. Misses was upset when I brought her, but I think I did a good job fixing her up."

The carvings on the entrance was enough for her to know that Otto and some of the other men from the community had worked on this house. The designs were intricate - something you would only see on the buildings in the upper end of German society. Anneliese already knew she wanted the house, more specifically the park to spite the American's. Now, she knew she had to have the house.

"No one wants it because of the American's," Otto said grimly, "Even tried selling it for half the asking price and no one dares - too close to the park."

Glancing up at Howard as Otto finally found the right key to unlock the house, Anneliese was met with a curious look from Howard. He was trying to figure her out.

The interior was just as beautiful. A foyer decorated with deep oak wood: the floorboards, a lighter shade, the staircase to the upper floor matched the intricate arches over the doorways, and a small coffee table to the side. Pulling Howard aside, she didn't bother to listen to Otto and Howard discuss the boring aspects of a house: the price, the size, and who the neighbours are. 

The first room was a day room that overlooked the carport and the street. It was partially decorated. A nice small chandelier matched with the same deep oak coffee table - this one much lower and wider than the one in the hallway. The curtains were a harsh purple, a colour she would change to something softer, perhaps mint green or a summers orange. 

Opposite the dayroom was the kitchen that she was interested in. The windows were wide, and if it weren't for the curtains she will put in - leaves them completely exposed to the street and park as the windows spanned both walls. The same charming deep oak colour continued with the counters and the cupboards. 

Unlinking her arm from Howard's, she ran her finger against the smooth wood, humming in satisfaction with the intricate swirls on the edge of the countertop. Much like her home, the counter creates a barrier between kitchen and dining room with two stools seated behind them. If it weren't for the windows, the room would feel awfully dark, she thinks. They'd need some colour to make it brighter.

The dinning room was attached and a dark oval table was situated in the very middle. Smaller cabinets surrounded it, of course. But the table was the main piece of the room, if she was to ignore the much larger chandelier.  How Otto could afford such luxuries was lost on her.

She lost Howard once she found herself in the lounge room, by far the largest room so far. A fireplace, another coffee table, and a few bookcases was all that inhabited the area. Another room that would definitely need some more colour. Anneliese went further down and had a peak at the bathroom, small, just like the one she has a home. 

jujuThat was all that was on level one, so she made her way up to level two. She could hear Otto and Howard discussing somewhere near the front of the house. He was in full business mode and Anneliese didn't have the patience to wait for him to explore the rest of the house. 

As she reached the top of the staircase, a gasp left her lips.

Much like the rest of the house, dark oak wood and windows dominated the area; however, she wasn't met to a narrow hallway to the other rooms. Instead, she was introduced to a small sitting area with bookcases against the wall. Taking her time, Anneliese walked down the corridor to identify four more rooms.

The first was obviously a guest room: small and with a bad view. She figured this will probably end up Alexander's room, considering the man occasionally had attachment issues with Howard. How the two weren't more than best friends often confused her.

The second room could easily be a study. An oak desk was already set up in a very familiar fashion to her father's old study. She assumes this would be Howard's office, considering Anneliese preferred to work on her documents at her vanity. Especially if the work made her cry and forced her to re-touch her makeup.

There was another room to the side, but Anneliese knew the room at the very end had to be the master bedroom.  So, much against her more formulated approach of entering rooms as she approached them, she opened the master bedroom.

Her eyes grew wide as she saw the large windows with curtains that nearly rivalled the ones she had back at home. Right in the middle was a large bed that had to be made of the same oak. Taking another step into the room, her eyes caught sight of another door. Giggling to herself, she hastily walked to the door and opened it to find a rather large walk-in-wardrobe. She couldn't help to squeal as she rushed over to the large vanity that had a window that oversaw the park.

It was perfect, although, after studying the room in the wardrobe, she concluded that it was unlikely all their clothes combined would fit it. She suppose that was a problem for another day. 

She re-entered the master bedroom to identify two more doors. Directly next to the walk-in-wardrobe was another bathroom with a shower and even a bath. And then, as she finished inspecting the room, she heard the voices of Howard and Otto trail up the stairs.

Only then did she open the door that seemed attached to the room she hadn't entered yet.

And suddenly she wished she hadn't opened it.

Her hands covered her mouth to stop any sound coming out as she took note of the only furniture in the room: a dressing table, a rocking chair, and a crib.

It was a nursery. She forgot those existed.

And then the door twisted open and for whatever reason, Anneliese walked back into the master room quickly to avoid being caught in it. She couldn't think of a reason why the thought of a nursery was so terrifying, especially when her Uncle had trained her how to decorate a nursery. It was the job of an aristocratic woman: to decorate and to be the ornament. She knew, at least back then, that she would be a mother. That was all she was ever expected to be, really. But that was before this job and this war.

Eventually Howard and Otto entered the room and there was a smile on both of their lips.

"So?", Howard asked, "Did you still want it?"

"Only if you buy the park as well."