HE STARED INTO my eyes like he'd never seen me before. And, I suppose, he was seeing me for the first time through a new lens. After all the shit Cerberus had done to him, I was finally being introduced to him. But I knew it wouldn't be long before something went wrong in this rescue mission of sorts. 

We'd been by ourselves for too long. Cara had either gotten caught up with some more thugs from Cerberus, or something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. Either way, I had a bad feeling that was starting to creep into my mind despite the ecstasy coursing through my veins at Bucky's memory of me. 

I glanced down at the end of the corridor. I couldn't see anyone, but that obviously didn't mean that there wasn't anyone there, waiting for us to move before they turned the corner and shot us down, dead only a few feet away from the door of our cell. 

Looking back at Bucky, I noticed that his hands were moving. We were still touching, and he was holding my hands as though they were delicate panes of glass, fragile enough to break in his grasp. He was turning them over, tracing the lines of my palms with gentle caresses from his thumbs. 

A tingle shot down my spine, causing me to forget where we were and what we were waiting for—but only for a second. I forced myself to blink, washing away any and all distracting thoughts that came from his dizzying touch from both his metal and flesh hands. A gentle sigh floated from my lips, drawing his gaze up from my hands and to my eyes. 

"Is this okay?" He whispered, mirroring my own words from just a few minutes ago. 

Funny. How much a person's world can change in a matter of minutes. 

All I wanted to do was nod, curl up next to this boy, this man that saw me, that was relearning me, but I knew I couldn't. It took every ounce of will in my body to tear my eyes away from him. "We have to go," I said softly. 

He lifted his eyes, concern clouding them like a young child. "But I don't want to go."

An echo of a distressed yell reached my ears, this time with the deep resonance of a man's voice. I jerked up to my feet, pulling him with me. Though he had always been a little taller than me, I felt as though I'd grown a foot as I spoke firmly to him, "Bucky, we need to start moving if we're going to get out of here." All I needed was a nod from him, and when I was given it, I started my way towards the noise. 

I ignored the small voice in my head that scolded me for dismissing Cara's request that we stay in one spot before she could come back for us.

Picking up a gun off the floor, strewn away from one of the bodies, I surveyed its weight and held it with two hands, aiming it at whatever might come out of the shadows and bite. 

The yells of horror got louder as we twisted our way through the compound, sometimes at breakneck pace, others at a slow crawl. Bucky followed me through all of it, just like an obedient puppy. I hoped I wouldn't have to drag him out of this place by his hand, and given his independence right now, I thought I was doing just fine. 

With a quick turn, I saw a shadow move just out of sight. We'd stumbled upon more guards, who were presumably more occupied with our friends than to have a thought to find their escaped prisoners. Luckily for us, that meant we were closer to help, which meant we were closer to getting out of here. 

I tugged Bucky back against the wall, checking and double-checking the gun in my hand to make sure it was loaded despite my previous discovery. "Stay here," I whispered, "I'm gonna handle this." I went to take a step forward but was stopped by his hand on my waist, sending...well, mixed signals throughout the rest of my body. 

Giving him a look, I paused at the panic in his eyes. "No," he protested softly, his voice hoarse, "I'll do it." He looked down at his metal hand that had warped itself into a fist. "Look at the person I've become," he said with an air of defeat. "What's one more kill?"

I want to kick you in the balls and kiss your tears away at the same time, my conscience screamed back at him. Instead, I simply shook my head, reaching with one hand to extricate his hand from my waist. "Shut up, Barnes," I teased gently. "You've been saving my life this entire time, just let me take the reins for once." Deciding there was no time to wait for his response, I just bucked up the courage and stalked forward, aiming my gun at the right turn of the corridor where I'd seen the shadow of a person disappear to. 

I half-wanted it to be an actual shadow and not a real live person with a gun and hoping to kill us, but I knew that that only happened in the movies. This, this was real life. As crazy and as fucked-up as it was. 

I rounded the corner. The guard was a woman. Her hair was black. I lifted my gun. She lifted hers. My eyes were wide but I only saw her eyes. They were green. I fired. Just once. Or maybe three times. Maybe I didn't fire at all and she shot me three times. I couldn't tell. 

Out of nowhere, reality came crashing back to me and I registered the woman in front of me falling to the ground, three puddles of red growing on the floor as her blood ebbed from her body. The only thing that kept me from staring at the unfolding scene was a sudden shout from a voice I knew. 

I couldn't decipher the words, I could hardly hear it through the thick walls of this place, but I knew my brother's voice when I heard it. We had to be close. Behind me, Bucky had reached my side. He wasn't really doing anything; he wouldn't touch me and he didn't say anything. I didn't need to turn around to know that he was staring at me, though. Just...staring. Taking me in. 

He still wasn't completely awake, but at least I had him moving. The quicker we got out of here, the better he'd be. 

Sucking in a deep breath and regretting it immediately after the metallic tang of blood seeped its way into my senses, I grabbed one of Bucky's hands—it turned out to be the metal one—and tugged him to a running pace. "Come on," I urged him, "we're close."

The gun felt heavier in my hand despite the loss of three bullets, but I carried it nonetheless, refusing to put it down until we were safe. Three more corners, right, left, then left again, and we made it to an opening, almost like a basin. Underground.

And just a few hundred yards away...I recognized the familiar mop of brown curls on his head, the way he lifted his hands in panic. I waved over my head, the relief too strong to give any sort of vocal reaction. My brother was standing there, amongst a group of four others, whom I depicted to be Cara, Steve, Sam, and Nat when I got closer. I wasn't sure where Wretton was, or if he was...no, I couldn't think like that.

But they didn't notice me. They were staring ahead of them, into the center of the basin-like canyon in the center of the vast space. "Stop!" Cade yelled, his voice booming though it shook. "Don't do this!"

I followed their terrified gaze to find a scene that made my heart drop and my head pound. Instinctual anger bubbled to the surface, but the sight made me pause my scathing words. 

My parents, the bastards who started all of this shit and ruined my life for me. They were standing there, on an overhanging catwalk that rose above the basin. One man stood behind them. Falling would, no doubt, result in death. 

And, based off of the warped terror in their faces that I could just barely pick up from this distance, I realized that was probably the plan from the Cerberus thug behind them. 

"Cade!" I finally swallowed back my shock and called out to him, drawing his attention away from our parents for one second. Just enough to see me and open his arms to me. I sprinted the length of two football fields to crash into my big brother's arms, choking on a sob that jerked its way from my lungs. "You're here," I mumbled, "you're here."

He squeezed me tightly, pulling back to brush a stray strand of hair out of my face. "Did you really think we'd leave you here, El?"

Shaking my head with a smile, I reached back to usher Bucky to my side. He still looked at me with the same sense of awe as before, as if he was trying to decide if I was really here. 

We were interrupted by a loud, echoing voice coming from the basin. From a closer vantage point, I could see the twisted face of the man standing behind my parents, his words surprisingly loud in the wide open area. "Look who decided to join us!" He shouted in glee. "It's the woman of the hour and her cherished pup!"

Sam muttered a curse. "So now he's gonna talk? He's been avoiding all use of words since we found them here."

"I...I know who that is," I swallowed roughly, my head reeling at the sight of my parents at the edge of the catwalk, "he told me. His name is Isaac Thompson, he's the head of Cerberus."

Cara spoke up, bending her knees in a fighting stance. "Then let's kill him."

"Not yet," Sam warned, "we just need to stall until—"

"You know, Miss Reid," Thompson began, his words echoing off the hard walls. "I'm rather impressed by all you've accomplished with your band of misfits here." He extended a hand that gestured to us. "It almost washed away my fury at the debacle I'm in now." It looked like he pulled my mother's hair, her head jerking back. "Your parents have been loads of help, Elda."

My brain was at war with my heart. I hated them for telling Cerberus about Bucky, about getting him taken away, but I also knew that I couldn't watch my parents die without feeling anything. I wasn't heartless. 

At that moment, my mother spoke up. It was harder to hear her, but I heard enough. "I didn't mean for this to happen, Elda," she pleaded, "I swear. I just wanted to keep you safe."

"Please," I scoffed, though the sarcasm was weak.

"Elda, please," she shrieked. "I can't live with you hating me. I'm your mother, I only want what's best for you." She inhaled a shaky breath. "I know that I was wrong now. He...he's not dangerous. He was right for you, and you need him. More than you need me."

Cade shook his head. "That's not true, Mom," he argued, but he held in a breath as Thompson raised a hand.

"That's awfully sweet of you to say, traitor," he growled. Then his face relaxed to a sheen of contentment. "Well, I'm sorry that I'll have to break up this family reunion. These two sorry souls are in my way." He said nothing else, and in one second, I was watching my parents topple over the edge of the catwalk, both of them screaming in absolute terror. 

It was almost in slow motion, the ripple of my parents' clothes as the force of their fall ripped through their clothes. Cade shouted, "NO!" But we were helpless as my parents fell to the bottom of the basin.

My brother dug his face into my shoulder, unable to watch, but I was frozen, my face hardly even showing any emotion. My mother's final words rang in my head, but I didn't know what to think of them. All I could see was their bodies crash into the cement floor below, cracking every bone in their body and smashing their skulls to oblivion. 

The next hour was spent in silence, my brain blocking out every sound around me. I hardly registered hundreds of US and Australian military men and women crowding the basin, rushing toward us. I hardly recognized that we were saved, that this nightmare was over. A faint gunshot was heard, which I later learned was the shot that stopped Thompson from running. 

My eyes were wide, but the only thing I could see was my parents colliding with the cement, the moment replaying over and over again. Cade clutched my hand tightly, and Bucky trailed behind me, his hand just barely touching mine. 

Everything was blurry for a while after that. I didn't even realize that we were out of the compound until the rain hit my face, washing the image of my parents' death from my mind temporarily. 

The first face I saw clearly through the sheets of rain pouring down on us was Everett Ross. The same man that authorized the faking of my brother's death, and the exact man that came to my house to break the news to us, forever breaking my relationship with my parents.

All thoughts left my brain and I stomped toward him, my face morphing into an expression of disgust. He walked calmly toward me, a hint of a smile on his face. Smug fucking prick, I thought. When I was within earshot of him, I wound up my fist and threw the meanest right hook I think I'd ever thrown. 

He wasn't expecting the hit, so he practically fell back, stumbling a few steps away from me, his hand coming up to protect the bruised jaw I just gave him. "Hey!" He yelled. "We're on the same team!"

"You're a fucking asshole!" My team of friends surrounded us, Sam shouting warnings at me, but I ignored each one. "You took everything from me! My brother, my godforsaken parents, it was—all—you!" The last two words were emphasized with sharp shoves. 

"It was necessary!" Ross shouted back at me, finally letting me see any sort of emotion on his face. "You should be thanking me."

My eyes widened. "I should be thanking you?" 

"Think about it, Elda," he held up his hands. "If your brother hadn't gotten in the middle of Cerberus' plans, you never would have found Bucky." Ross looked around at everyone else with a look that said, help!

Sam came up to tug me away from him. "Come on, Elda," he said gently. "You're in shock. Let's do this later. Everything's being taken care of. We need to get out of here."

"He's right, you know," a familiar voice sounded behind me. "You should get out of here before they find out you've left."

I turned around, and in the middle of all this shit with my parents dying and seeing Ross, I allowed myself one breath of fresh air. "Red?" I asked in disbelief.

The graying CIA agent smiled. Still in a suit and tie, he looked the part. "The one and only." He stepped forward to embrace me. "Ignore the big man," he whispered in my ear, "he's always been a prick." When he pulled away, he surveyed the group. "All of your injuries can wait, right? Until you get there?"

Steve tore his gaze away from Bucky and nodded. "Yeah, we're good." He came forward and clapped a hand on Wretton's shoulder. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "For calling them, and for...well, everything."

Wretton simply shrugged. "I got sick of being a boring piece of obedient shit." He smiled at me. "She's special, you know," he said aloud, aiming his words at my brother, who stared at the ground. "Take care of each other."

I had no clue what was going on, but I allowed myself to be ushered into our jet that would take us back to Wakanda, I learned. Ross didn't want us leaving, as he wanted to debrief after the hellish situation, but the seven of us—not including Wretton, who was going to explain away our absence—clambered on board and set off for Wakanda. The one place that all of us would be safe now.

My parents are dead, I told myself. I looked at my hands. My parents are dead. Why aren't you crying? 

Bucky came to stand at my side, taking the initiative and reaching for my hand. "Elda," he whispered, reminding himself of my name. 

Even the elation at Bucky's rescue couldn't take away from the disgust I felt at myself. One look at my brother's devastation and tear-stained cheeks made me want to curl up and get rid of the memory. "My parents are dead," I whispered to myself. "And it's like I don't care."

The jet rose into the air, seven silent men and women huddled closely together as we escaped ground zero and flew to our next haven. 

||

phew, that was long. towards the end of the chapter, i think my writing got sloppy, so please just ignore the bad writing and try to take away what i was giving out. 

what do you guys think of mr. and mrs. reid's deaths? i tried to make it as conflicting for the readers as i wanted to make it for elda, so let me know if i succeeded(or not). 

the next chapter is gonna be, uh...super amazing. yeah. i can just feel it.

thanks for reading, you guys! see you in the next update!

december 7, 2019