Chemical Poison

New York City was not filled with lights. It was dark. Shadows did not lurk, but suffocate the streets completely. There were no cars or trucks to be seen, and no person or bike was walking home from a late shift. Music did not creep from the underground bars and the snow did not follow the chilly breeze. Everything was paused, as if it was on mute.

The plane descends with alarming speed. Shouts fill the cockpit as plane quickly shifts, jolting Anneliese slightly. It doesn't move her much. She's strapped to a make-shift hospital bed with Howard's fingers clasped around her cold hands. His gold rings are warm against her fingers which is a terrifying thought as she's aware she should find them cold. 

Her eyes struggle to stay awake as she tries to concentrate on Howard. He's yelling, she's certain of it. She can see his mouth wide open and his free hand in the air, swaying around dangerously. Profanities are probably spilling from his bitten lips, but Anneliese is so cold. She can't help but smile when Howard's eyes moves away from whoever he was yelling at back to her own. 

There is worry swallowing his face. The dark bushy brows are knitted together, new wrinkles form across his forehead, and if Anneliese could trust her eyesight enough she would claim that grey hair was beginning to spout from his head. Howard's shirt was partially open, and his tan skin was a soft pink with goosebumps spreading all over. This was a new Howard that Anneliese did not want to meet.

This was a man scared, a man worried.

A sharp pain behind her eyes forces the shut. A small gasp leaves her lips as Anneliese tries to breath. 

Breathe, she tries to tell herself. Breathe and the pain will go away.

The pain continues, and her breathing slows. 

Drowsiness overcomes her and the warmth of Howard's rings begins to be a memory. Perhaps she had dreamt the sensation because she couldn't feel it anymore. A slow trail from her neck to the bottom of her spine jolts her eyes open. Suddenly there was too much light, too much noise.

She cries for Howard, but her cracked lips and dry throat silences any attempt. The aircraft felt safe, this did not. 

Anneliese lulls her head to the side, unable to keep it positioned on her back. It feels far too heavy, as if holding it up was asking her to hold up the sky. She's too weak. She wants to sleep. 

The flashing red and blue lights triggers the pain behind her eye again, and she wails. Loud enough to feel Howard's rings returning to her hands. Loud enough for her bed to stop being moved. And loud enough for the noise to cease. 

She can't stop, the tears won't stop.

When was the last time she had even cried?

Someone is trying to talk to her, but she can't listen. There is too much noise in her body to listen. There is a thrumb to the pain, and it grows by the second. The old Anneliese, perhaps, may have wondered whether there was some sort of rthym. But the Anneliese of now was scared, she was so terribly scared.

Why did she feel so cold?

The bed begins to move at a more alarming pace and her eyes flutter open. The red and blue lights makes her nauseous, and she can't help closing and opening her eyes quickly. It makes her dizzy, she feels unwell -as if she's forced on a carousel moving too fast. She can't breathe. She feels so cold.

Every shiver sends more pain down her spine, but it always stops before it reaches her legs. Everywhere is on fire but her legs, she can't feel them.

She can't feel her legs.

Her eyes shoot open as she begins to hyperventilate. Where are her legs, can she see her legs?

Hands hold her down as she sees a man in blue hover his face directly ontop of hers. She's scared. Why is he baring his teeth at her? She can't keep her eyes open, she wants to sleep.

Breathe in, breathe- she can't feel her legs.

Her legs.

What about her leg-

EMERGENCY LANDING IN NEW YORK?

November 10th, 1943 

The residences of New York were left wailing as the sudden sounds of an aircraft descending quickly into a high school oval suggested a possible invasion. The cries were many, and I, the author of this paper, feels the need to write that there was a small feeling of imminent death from the shadow of the aircraft. 

In the hours that have passed, and New Yorkers were left to wonder what and who has decided to land an American aircraft in a school oval, the New Yorker managed to gain an exclusive interview with Mr Rowlands, the newly appointed war correspondent for the president.

Mr Rowlands seemed tired during the interview. His suit was not button correctly and the dark circles under his eyes suggest that sleep is a commodity that not even the rich and powerful have plenty of. Perhaps Americans have a greater chance of getting their hands on chicken then they do sleep?

When asked about the emergency landing, and whether more are to follow. Rowland grimaced, a frown appearing on his face as their was a brief silence. That is before we were given news we were not expecting.

Although the active military pilots will remain unnamed, one of the co-pilots was none other than Mr Howard Stark, CEO of Stark Industrials, who somehow completed his aviation training back in college with his friend and business partner, Mr Alexander Gray. Although few details were provided, it can be confirmed that Stark was given a large fine for deciding where to complete the landing. Sources suggest that Stark planned the entire plan; however, other's suggest this was decided by Colonel Philips who is currently serving oversees in the war.

What we do know is why this landing occurred: dire medical attention was required of an unnamed passenger that the front could not provide.

It leaves us pondering who this passenger is, and why Stark even acted so hastily?

There were many things Josef Lorenz regretted in his life. He would be a fool to say he had none with a wife murdered, his sisters dead, and a career destroyed. As a young man he had been ignorant to think that information would triumph power and greed; that the pursuit of knowledge would be used for good and not for gold. 

He quickly learnt otherwise.

Josef had seen a lot in his life, and heard even more. There was much misfortune in hearing about the plans before they were acted upon, and even more when the news did a profoundly terrible way in explaining them. It felt like a terrible secret that if he was to share he would be called a liar, a crazy, a man in need of an institution. 

So he learnt to keep it to himself: he had to be self-preserving; he had to survive. No one cares for a scientist if he could not make a bomb. No ones cares for a German if he could not slaughter his fellow nationals. No one cares for a father if he could not ensure an heir.

No one cares for Josef, it's a simple fact.

His wife dead.

His parents lost to the Spanish influenza.

His two sweet younger sisters, Anya and Liesel, found dead shortly after his escape.

His friend, Abraham, murdered.

He has no idea what has happened to his colleagues, the students he called son, and the elderly lady that poured his beer at the pub down the road from his office in Munich. 

And his only daughter was married.

His sweet Anneliese was alive, the shallow beating of her heart ensured it.

There is no way to prepare a father to hear that his reason to breath was closer to death than the living. Yet, Josef believes if anyone could ever be prepared, he was damn close to it.

He hadn't said a word when Mr Grey informed him, nor did he dare show a lick of emotion. He may be surrounded by lions with blunt teeth, but they were still lions. He's learnt that it's never best to trust a man with too much money, regardless of how charismatic they may be. 

When he arrived at the hospital and watched doctors swarm his doctor's bed, he simply took his hat off slowly and lowered his head to the floor. He was never a religious man, never cared for those that believed their were higher beings with supreme knowledge. That a single deity could solve all the problems in the world - that was a scientist job.

Yet, he pauses to listen, to hear the world around him. There is a shake to Mr Stark's shouts, his words wobble as if they're about to fall over. He's hysterical, begging them to do anything at all to save her. It's a dangerous thing, he's doing. Showing weakness. Josef knows it's a rare luxury to be able to beg and not be killed, to beg and somehow survive. 

He had once begged a long time ago. His knees were bruised and bloody, his hands clasped in the air, and his eyes wide and open. It would only take one kick to have his body crumbled on the floor. Yet, it had never came. He survived to beg again. Begged to wed Erna, a woman above his rank. Begged priests to save his wife and his child. Begged to flee Germany. 

Now, he watches as Howard begs for his wife. The sound of bones hitting the marble flooring forces Josef to close his eyes. His wails begin to harmonise with Miss Bernards and the nurses on the floor. Wails that sing a song of fear and worry, of not wanting his sweet daughter to pass.

Josef had regretted many things, of not leaving Germany earlier, for not protecting his daughter from this life. 

Yet, he regrets not learning the prayers her mother tried indoctrinating in him. Of not learning how to beg to a god to protect the ones he loves most. No chemical or poison can protect his Anneliese, his Schatzi. For the first time, and he fears if his daughter survives his, and not the last time, he prays.

STARK'S SECRET MARRIAGE: THE SCANDAL OF THE YEAR!

November 18th, 1943

Letter's from the front has led to one rumour to run rampant in New York City: the secret marriage between Mr Howard Stark and Miss Anneliese Lorenz. A source provided us access to a letter sent from her son that states not only was Miss Anneliese Lorenz found beaten in a German occupied facility, but upon her arrival in the camp stationed nearby Stark had loudly shouted "Where is my wife!"

There is little information available on when or where this marriage occurred, but a source from the government has confirmed that the legal name of Lorenz is in fact Mrs Anneliese Stark - a clear confirmation of a union between herself and the CEO of Stark Industrials.

Although we know the residents of New York, and the rest of America, wants to know more about this secret marriage, we can promise more information in the coming weeks.

What we do know is the reason for the hast landing in a school field not even three days prior was in fact for the new Mrs Stark. Why she was taken by Germany has many of the writers at the New York Press curious and concerned.

What could the German forces want with Stark's wife? And does it have something to do with her German heritage.

Alexander was sure that if someone recorded everything he has said in the past month, that "stupid fucking Stark" would be the most repeated phrase.

Not only was he stuck running Stark Industrials in the largest negotiations with the government for military aid after Howard stupidly cutting the contract mere hours after Anneliese was stable, but he also had to work overtime with Miss Cotton to rectify the new slander being produced by the New York Press about whether Anneliese is a spy.

Stupid fucking Stark had to fall in love and be glued to the side of Anneliese's still body.

Stupid fucking Stark had to be completely inconsolable and refused to eat a bite unless forced too.

Stupid fucking Stark had to make him work overtime, unable to spend his lunches flirting with the new marketing girls, as he was needed in every department all at the same time.

He was left to run not only Stark's business but his life as well. He restarted negotiations with the government and argued his way to better terms with greater profits. He hired 30% more men and fired the 10% that slacked off. Maria said it was hypocritical that he fired them, considering he was the influence that led them to slack off in the first place.

But none of that mattered.

He was not going to let Stark tank their business all because stupid fucking Stark got married and made Anneliese a stupid fucking Stark that just had to go get herself kidnapped by her deranged uncle.

Gods, he had a migraine just thinking about it.

If Anneliese survived this, how long did he have before the two of them started creating stupid fucking Stark children?

Alexander didn't have time to worry, he didn't have time to attend family dinners and he didn't have enough time to find a new way to get into Maria's bed.

He knew it was serious when Josef offered to run the science side of the business - an area Alexander was awfully inexperienced in. He knew he was drowning when Maria begun organising fundraisers in Stark's name to redirect the press from wondering about the stupid fucking Starks he called friends.

It got bad when his father stopped by and said he was proud. That royally pissed him off, and all he could think about was the two stupid fucking Starks that hadn't left the hospital in a month.