Chapter 1
The Boy, a name he hated. How much lower can they make him feel? He wasn't a child, no. He had been with Hydra for over twenty years. And yet, he is still called The Boy. The only other name he received was from—no, he wouldn't let him think of the man he used to look up to, the man who left him to fend for himself. When the man left Hydra, deeming himself a traitor, the Boy rose in his place. He fought to become the greatest Hydra had seen, without the serum pumping through his body.
But, The Boy soon had to leave, he had to escape to where no Hydra base was. The Avengers were hunting down each and every base they could find, and killing anyone found. The Boy couldn't risk his life, his handler told him to run, not to come back until contacted. He sent the Boy off with a fake life, a stack of money, and the fear of losing the only home he remembered.
That was four months ago. The Boy has been living the life of an imposter for four months. To the world, he was only known as James Pavlov, photographer for the local paper. He managed to learn some English to get the job, but often speaks Russian, his first language and it keeps up appearances. He's made as few associates as possible, laying low until Hydra reappears.
The Boy turns into the next aisle of the store, looking for the coffee. If one thing has remained constant in his life, it's his diet. He still eats oatmeal for breakfast, though now he adds fruit or nuts, he still eats simple lunch of a vegetable salad, and he still drinks his coffee black. He doesn't think he needs anything new in his life, only for that thing to be lost when he returns home.
So The Boy scans the aisle for the good stuff, and that's when his heart dropped to his stomach. The Boy stared at the figure in front of him. The assassin he grew up in the shadow of, training to become, is stood in the middle of the grocery aisle, deciding if he wants orange juice or apple, metal arm hidden by a plain blue hoodie. His hair is shorter, The Boy notices, it seems lighter too.
The Boy desparately wants to leave immediately, but he spots what he's looking for just past the Winter Soldier. Just his luck. If he leaves, he'll have to get coffee tomorrow after work, and that just won't do. So he pulls his hat a little lower and pops the collar of his jacket. It's been years anyways, what's the chance that he'll actually recognize him?
He keeps his eyes on the ground as he walks past the man, trying to bring little attention to himself. And on his quest to remain unnoticed by the ex-agent, he slams into someone else. Both of them go tumbling to the ground. The other man gets up quickly, apologizing for the mishap. The Boy stays on the ground, his hand holding his basket tight.
"Hey man, you okay?" The man he ran into asks, holding out a hand to help The Boy up.
The Boy nods, trying to find the least amount of words to get away. He's sure his accent will give the Winter Soldier some hint as to who he is.
The other man's hand doesn't move, still waiting to help The Boy up. Reluctantly, he accepts, keeping his gaze away from the soldier, who was stopped shopping at the commotion.
The Boy nods, and reaches towards his coffee, and turns the corner quickly, desparate to finish shopping and get out. He grabs a container of oats, not bothering to check the brand of price, and heads toward the checkout. The grocery worker smiles as she scans his items, reading his total. The Boy reaches for his wallet, and can't hold back the Russian curse that leaves his lips. His wallet is no longer in his pocket, and neither is his phone. They must've fallen out of his jacket when he fell, and he was too worried to get out to notice the loss of weight in his pockets.
"Hey!" A shout towards him. "I think my friend made you drop these."
"Der'mo." The Boy swears under his breath. The Winter Soldier is fast approaching him, his phone and wallet in hand.
"Thank you. I didn't notice. I am late to get home, you know how married life is." The Boy accepts the items, laughing as he pays the worker. Cash only.
"Yeah of course." The soldier says, pointing back at his friend. "Not married, but Sam is as needy as any wife would ever be."
The Boy narrows his eyes as he picks up his one bag. He lightens his mood as he speaks again. "Yeah, she'll be mad I'm late again. I'm supposed to be making dinner tonight."
"Good luck, man." The soldier laughs, and The Boy walks away.
As soon as he's out of the store and to his car, he takes a breath. He couldn't believe he had lied straight to the soldiers face. In Hydra, that would've gotten him nearly killed. But now, it was nessecary.
He starts his car and pulls out of his parking space. He's about to pull out of the parking lot, when he slams on his breaks. The contents of his shopping bag go flying in the backseat, the seatbelt tightens on his chest.
In front of his car are three figures: the man he ran into in the store, a young man in a metal suit, and the Winter Soldier.
The Boy plays his part, rolling down his window and yelling out, "Excuse me! You're blocking the road!"
"Yeah that's kinda the point, buddy." The man he ran into yells back. "Why don't you come out of the car and we can talk?"
The Boy scowls, grabbing his wallet to show the fake ID. "I need to get home! My wife is waiting for me."
The metal boy looks to the Winter Soldier, "Are you sure this is your guy? He really looks like he needs to get home."
"Harley, trust me."
They don't move. The Boy shakes his head, trying to stay calm.
"C'mon pal, we don't have all day."
"Fine." The Boy shuts off his car and climbs out. "Who do you think I am?"
"You are Hydra's legacy. You were raised in Hydra from the age of five, they aimed for you to be the best, especially after my escape. You don't have a wife, and your name is not James Pavlov, is it?" The Winter Soldier takes a step towards him.
The Boy shakes his head. "No. No. My name is James Pavlov, I am married to Lila Pavlov, I am 25 years old. We moved to New York a few months ago after traveling for a couple years. I am not who you think I am." His right hand goes to grab the gun hidden in his jacket, but the soldier is faster. A gun is aimed right at The Boy, and the soldier isn't joking.
"No. You are on the run after the fall of Hydra. They call you The Boy, and you have been running for months. You've been told to wait for contact, but you know that Hydra is gone, you've read the news, seen the reports, many men were killed, many were arrested, you were one of the three agents to escape. The others are either in jail, or six feet under." The man cocks the gun, "Now try to tell me who you are."
"Why do you want me." The Boy tilts his head, "The Avengers are toast after the Decimation, only you and a couple others are active. If you wanted me, you could've tracked me down a lot faster, you know you could've. Why now?"
"I had to see if you were sent to kill me, and after our encounter, it seems you're more afraid of me than I am of you." The gun lowers.
"Plus, I've figured out your identity, and it's a big one."
The Boy smirks.
"Try me."