He drove down the dirt road, slowing down to prevent the car from driving through the holes.

Something nudged his elbow.

“Stop it.” he growled out at the dog.

Yes, Will had decided to keep it. Why? He had no idea why exactly. But he just couldn't leave this thing there, to this old doctor with jar-bottom-glasses and the anxious nurse. Leave him in a cage.

No, Will never wanted to see anyone in a cage ever again. If it came down to it, he will search a home for the mutt himself.

The man had been very pleased when Will had decided to take the dog with him, what Doc Lee didn't approve of, was William grabbing the dog leaving them in the dust.

“I said stop it.” he said louder as the dog nudged his elbow again, demanding attention.

They had been driving for a while and it had most definitely tired the dog out. But Will knew he wasn't allowed to move that much anyways so the dog just had to suck it up and deal with it.

The dog, realising Will wasn't going to pet her, huffed and laid on her back, legs towards the roof of the car as she tried to wiggle herself into a comfortable position. Will glanced that her once she settled down, raising an eyebrow at the seemingly-uncomfortable position.

That's one weird dog.

Natasha stood in the dimly lit bedroom, her sharp eyes scanning the brown and beige coloured place. The smell of dust and cognac hung barely in the air as a sharp yellow ray of setting sun peeked in from behind the thick curtains that, by the quick look of them, were most definitely outdated.

It was clear as a day that John Lawford, while he still had been able to go on about his day, was very organised. But she supposed it was something that was a part of being blind.

She steadily walked over to the brown closet, tilting her head as she looked it up and down as if it would have all the answers. And once, it had.

She opened the creaky doors, scanning the inside before going to search through the neatly folded clothes. Everything was placed perfectly, almost too perfectly. She found nothing helpful, making her frown and take a small step back. She scanned the inside of the closer once more, her eyes stopping on the bottom of it.

There.

It seemed that the bottom of the closet was covered in a thin layer of visible dust. Except a square place in the back. She could immediately tell that there had been a box of some kind not that long ago.

What had been in that box? Why was it so valuable? And who exactly was the old man and how was Mr. Lawford and their mysterious criminal related? Was it his son? A friend? Johnathan had no sons and his brother had died decades ago.

Natasha made a mental note to go through all of his acquaintances and their sons, the person had to be a lot younger than the old man. She gave the closet one more thorough look and closed it, walking towards the old fashioned living room.

“I don't know about you, but the old man has really lost some screws or whoever it was here, is just as mad. Look what I found from the fridge.” Clint's amused voice made Nat look up.

He stood on the doorway, holding up an electric kettle.

“It has apple juice in it.” he said while slouching it around in the kettle, being careful with the handle, even though he had already taken fingerprints from it. They would soon learn if it was the old man's madness or the criminal had settled there for some time.

“There was a box in his bedroom closet, but it's gone. We need to find it. And I already know her daughter didn't take it, the girl is all the way in Vegas, sniffing cocaine.” Clint frowned, looking at the floor as he thought about how unfair it was.

Her father was dying, could be gone in the morning and where was she? Sniffing coke and partying. Pity.

“Fucking hell Nat.” she knew he was thinking of his own kids, how awful would it lying on a deathbed. All alone.

She didn't answer, scanning the room. Just like the bedroom, it too, was organised very carefully. It was neat, even though slightly dusty, things seemed to be on order.

Except one thing.

Clint, still engrossed with the electric kettle full of apple juice raised his eyes as he watched her making her way to the row of books. She slid her finger over the spine. Old books, and suddenly the chain of neatly packed books was broken.

“one missing book doesn't mean anything.” Clint claimed, even though his voice was doubtful.

“Or maybe it means everything.”

He glanced down at the kettle, knowing she was probably right. She always was.

“We should head back, scan the fingerprints and hope we'll get a hit.”

“And let's see if Sam has found anything.” they turned to leave, making sure everything was exactly as it was before they stepped foot into the apartment.

This place made Clint feel sad for some reason. It was very melancholic and empty. Hollow, almost. As if time stood still in it. As he closed the front door, he hastily slipped a bug in the corridor, just incase should anyone enter the old flat, he would get an alert.

“Has Steve yet told you what it is that keeps him and the Star-arm so occupied?” he asked nonchalantly as they walked down the stairs. Natasha wasn't a fan of elevators, so when there was just the two of them, they always chose the stairs. She didn't want others to know that, but Clint had known her long enough to realise it himself. He had never asked her, and he was fine with that. It didn't mean she trusted him any less, Clint knew that she trusted him with his life.

“No.” she frowned, Steve was trying to keep it a secret, but Natasha was a living, breathing lie detector.

“As long as it doesn't have anything to do with trying to bring back fossils or ghosts or some shit like that, I'm all good with that.” he said in a joking manner, walking around the car to sit in the drivers seat.

“He'll tell us when he's ready. Lets just hope Sam won't hear a thing, this man would probably demand Steve spill everything.”

He was forced to stop for the night because of the thing, the dog.

He grumpily threw another log into the fire, glowing embers flying into the still night sky as the dog kept rolling over her back on the long grass, as if mocking William. Saying see? I won.

He refrained from rolling his eyes, he wouldn't succumb to the dogs manipulation.

Williams back was pressed against the tree as he looked down at the open journal on his lap. A corner of a black and white photo was peeking out from one of the pages and he pulled it out.

He watched it carefully, there were two people he recognised.
One of them was Johnathan Lafword, holding his rifle and starting into the camera. Despite his grim look, there was a mishevious undertone glowing in his eyes.

And the second person he recognised was himself. He looked shorter, younger, and so god damn oblivious.

Suddenly his head ached as he pulled his knees up, becoming oblivious of his surroundings once again as old memories —or at least he hoped they were— surfaced and be was pulled into the black abyss of pain and forgotten friends.

“You slow twat, look what you are doing, bleeding for arselings is not what you Americans do, understand, Mayers? No, you don't do that." John said, slapping another mans face to get some color back onto his pale cheeks. "Get up, we will keep on going, okay? Here, drink some whiskey that Will got for me couple of days ago." he said through gritted teeth. Elliot glared and William played dumb, looking away as if it stopped Elliot from looking unimpressed.

"Come on, up you get now you walrus. We get you into that camp and you'll be back to wanking in no time." he tried to lighten the mood, helping the wounded soldier up. He groaned, his hand around Johns shoulder as the younger soldier carefully wrapped his hand around Elliots torso, allowing him lean most of his weight on him. "Wrong-" Elliot gasped out, "-hand." he finished, taking another large gulp of whiskey that made his cheeks flame. John snorted, still looking concerned by the patch of dark brown blood on his clothes. "Also, a shoulder injury never stops a man." he said and Will knew the alcohol and blood loss had gotten to him. Elliot would never speak like that, but then again, war changes even the most innocent.

"You don't drink much do you." John said, trying to not show any discomfort on his face. Elliot shook his head, grimacing after he had drank some more. "First time actually." he muttered as they started heading towards the camp.

He was shaking as the conversation faded back into the locked part of his mind. With trembling hands, he gripped the pen and picked up the journal.

Elliot. Meyer.

Wounded soldier. Stolen alcohol. Going, going, going. Going where? Why? Lightweight.
Running, still running. Where were everyone? Couldn't stop.
Tanks, there was the sound of tanks and bullets. Flying.
Something with eagles? Counting eagles? Why? Elliot and John.
Friends?

His throat was closing up as the headache worsened with every question he wrote down. Angrily, he tossed the journal aside and pressed the palms of his hands over his eyes as he tried to stop his racing heart and the pain that pulsed behind his eyelids.

He didn't realise he was screaming in pain before a pathetic whine and a mass of soft fur jumped at him.

Will fell sideways, not caring as he curled up, low growls leaving his chest as he succumbed to the pain. It was coming back, in waves that restlessly slammed into the empty shore.

Curled up, he felt another body joining his. The dog whined as she placed her large head over Williams shoulder, making sure to stay as close as possible to the trembling human who had lost all sense of reality.

The two broken beings laid by the fire, the dogs brown eyes never closing to fall into deep slumber as Williams hiccups finally died down.

WHAT?! ANOTHER UPDATE?
I didn't realise there were so many people reading this tbh, I'm shooketh.

It's all the feedback that has lately given me the motivation so thanks guys!

I know I didn't feature Theo in this chapter but I felt as though he'd fit well into the collage ey? (P.s he looks kinda hot there 🤓 )

Also, I did use my Bella in the page break picture, as someone asked in the last chapter if I've used her pictures I realised I haven't. So, if I use her as the model why not use her pictures?

QOTD: what do you think should be the first thing that Will says to Steve should they meet?

Until the next chapter
Stay safe
- K