Chapter Fifteen

**Warning: Graphic and bloody!**

Steve was less than pleased when Malone returned to Helicarrier. Malone stepped out of the Quinjet, spattered with blood. When Steve saw her, he ran out to meet her. "I said we'd go together! You can't just leave us, Malone!" He said pointedly, "I can't believe you'd-"

His voice trailed off when he saw Malone's tears. Her crying was pitiful, it was not the silent or pretty cry.  No, it was the tears you shed when the world has ended. When your life has crumbled and every fiber of your being trembles with exhaustion.

Steve gathered Malone into his arms, holding her close to his chest. Her soft hiccuping cry distinct in the crisp evening air. The waves lapped gently against the hull of the resting Helicarrier, the sun setting slowing towards the horizon.

"I know where he is," Mal said weakly. Steve sighed, looking down at her, "Where?"

Malone wiped away the remainder of her tears, "The bottom of Shield tower." Steve closed his eyes, leaning away from Malone. All those times he had been in Shield tower, his friend was only floors away. Even now, when he knew where James was, there was little he could do. "We can't do it," Malone admitted feebly, "I know we can't."

Steve frowned, "Don't talk like that, Malone. I've got some people that can help. We wait, we plan. I don't care how long it takes, we will save him."

Unfortunately for Malone, planning took months. The Helicarrier floated from place to place, never docking or flying. The days were long and tiresome. Natasha, Steve, and Malone all planned for every outcome. Almost nothing went unaccounted for. It had been three months, and Malone was giving up. James's voice and scent became a hazy memory. If it hadn't been for the picture she would have forgotten exactly what he looked like.

Something kept Malone going, though she didn't know what it was. The fire in her eyes had diminished to an ember, but she wasn't going to stop.

Exactly three months and six days after he had been taken, the plan was ready. Malone was jittery. After waiting so long, the day was here. She strapped on her weapons, taking out the one picture of James she had. It was a grainy picture, snapped with her phone. James was asleep, peacefully unaware of his past or present. Malone's eyes lingered on the picture, a deep ache in her chest. She folded the picture, putting it into her pocket.

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The Helicarrier had a new passenger. A man named Sam, who wore metal wings on his back. Malone didn't much care who joined them, as long as they got James back. She looked vaguely out the window at Washington D.C., noting where Shield tower was.

The Helicarrier went invisible, the technology on board making it so there was absolutely no trace it existed. The team met in the armory, once more going over the plan. Natasha and Sam were to cause a distraction on the roof, while Steve and Malone moved to the bottom levels. The plan was supposedly seamless, but they all knew something was bound to go wrong.

Sam and Natasha left, off to cause mayhem. Malone was shaking as she picked up the Stark-invented handcuffs and put them on her belt. Steve looked sympathetically at her, "Tony said those would keep him." Malone nodded, "Yeah. I was just hoping we wouldn't have to use them."

Steve and Malone walked to the end of the Helicarrier. Malone strapped on a parachute, handing one to Steve. He ignored her, judging the distance of the jump calmly. Steve turned and saluted, winking, and stepped off the Helicarrier. Malone's eyes widened, but she also jumped. The wind whipped around her, leaving her heart pounding. She pulled the cord, and the parachute deployed behind her.

She floated down, landing solidly in front of the Tower. Steve was waiting for her, his patriotic shield in hand. Malone quickly undid the straps, leaving the parachute lying in the street. People were staring at them incredulously, but Mal didn't care.

Steve and Malone ran towards the Tower, going inside. The agents behind the desks stood and drew their guns. Malone payed them no heed, running towards the stairwell. The agents fired, but nothing touched Malone. Steve followed her, bullets ricocheting off his shield. It seemed to her that all the agents here were corrupt.

Malone ran down the stairwell, knowing full well she was tripping hundreds of sensors. Steve followed close behind her, prepared to fight. When they reached the bottom stairs, Malone stopped. It was strange, she thought, that no one had been to stop her. No troops descended upon them. No guards stood around the doorway.

Steve looked at Malone worriedly. This wasn't right. It seemed that the one thing they didn't plan for was happening. The two walked out suspiciously, making their way slowly down the hallway. Malone saw the room first. The thick vault door, the old scuffed floors with suspicious reddish-brown stains, and worst of all, the black machine. Just looking at it gave Malone chills.

She stepped into the room. The heavy vault door swung closed, muffling Steve's surprised shout. Malone turned quickly, hearing the door close with a final sounding chink. Great, she thought, I should've known it was a trap. The sound of boots hitting the floor made Malone sick with dread. When she turned, she saw James.

"We don't have to fight," she said calmly. He just scowled at her, not saying anything. This wasn't the James she had fallen in love with. No, this was the steel-hearted assassin, the Winter Soldier.

He advanced slowly, the knife in his grip raised in her direction. She realized she would have to fight him. After all, James had trained her. He had taught her how to fight, so that if this ever happened, she would be prepared.

She didn't want to fight, but she would. Malone gathered her strength, and stood tall.

Mal drew her curved daggers, poised to fight. The Winter Soldier stabbed at her, but she disarmed him easily. He looked at her in shock. "Think, James! Think back, remember! "

"You're my mission," he growled.

She chuckled grimly, "No, I'm your friend."

He lunged at her, pinning her to the wall. Malone lifted her dagger and pushed it against his neck, kicking off the wall and reversing their positions. James shoved her away, sending her flying across the room. Her curved daggers skidded away from her hands, and she groped for them desperately.

Malone quickly realized she was at the disadvantage, she was fighting for capture. He was fighting for death.

A loud banging sounded outside, which Malone assumed was Steve trying to get in. Just as Malone got up, James punched. She ducked, but not fast enough. The right hook caught her nose. A thick line of blood marred her face. She grinned, blood staining her teeth, "Good one, James."

A pounding headache was forming behind James's eyes. He remembered this girl. His orders were... wrong? He ignored the terrible feeling building inside of him. His confusion made him even more deadly, and Malone was getting worse for wear.

James punched at Malone, but she moved quickly, making him miss her by inches. She turned and caught his fist, jumping up and using her momentum to flip him. Mal pinned him down, "Listen James, I'm done fighting you."

Malone closed her eyes, "If you want to kill me, go ahead. I can't fight you anymore. Я люблю тебя." I love you. 

He stopped struggling, staring at her with wide eyes. He remembered saying those exact three words to her. James couldn't remember anything else. He didn't know who she was or why she was here, but he knew he had said those words to her. Somehow, that made what he had to do even worse.

Malone got up and stood with her eyes still closed. James looked at her, her long blonde hair glinting familiarly in the low light. Blood dripped down her chin from her nose. He knew her, it was impossible, but he knew her.

He stood in front of her, and she opened her eyes slowly. "I'm not going to kill you," he said slowly. Yet, he thought silently. Malone's mouth twitched into a wry smile. "Will you come with me?" she asked.

James regarded her suspiciously. He had needed to act suspicious to gain her trust. The funny thing was, he wanted to go with her. He knew, deep down, if he went with her, he would be safe. But orders were orders, and he didn't want to be hurt again.

"I'll go with you," he stated. Malone reached up towards his now long hair, which had grown back to how it was when she first met him. Her hand froze half-way, this still wasn't her James. Not yet.

She turned away from him, walking towards the vault door. It swung open, revealing a troop of Shield agents. Steve was fighting brilliantly, but was about to be overwhelmed. Malone pulled her throwing knives from her thighs, taking out agents left and right. James jumped into the fray, a flurry of deadly punches and kicks.

Malone saw a familiar face in the crowd. A man with burn scars littering his body, Brock Rumlow. Mal's knife glinted at she threw it at Rumlow. She missed by inches, the knife burying in the wall beside the man's head. He looked at her brutally, pulling the knife from the wall. He approached the preoccupied James, raising the delicate knife and directing it toward the nape of James's neck.

Malone screamed in fury, vaulting over people. In a flash, she was there. The knife sunk down, but not into James. It drove down into Malone's chest, just below the collar bone. Rumlow's eyes widened in surprise. Malone pulled the knife out of her chest, grimacing. She held the bloody knife aloft, locking eyes with Rumlow. His face twisted with fear as she advanced towards him. Malone's arm was a blur as she mercilessly slit his throat. Blood gushed down his chest as he fell, his eyes glazing over.

Steve stood in shock, seeing the blood covered woman standing triumphantly over the body. The rest of the corrupt Shield agents either knocked out or dead around them. Malone walked over to James, "Let's go."

The three walked purposefully to the entrance, and there was no one to stop them. Steve walked out of the doorway, and Malone had one foot out of the door when she realized something. "Where the hell is James?!" Malone said.

Steve looked back at her, "He was right behind..." Malone whipped around frantically, "James?!" Her voice echoed through the tower. A sound was heard, and it made their blood run cold. Hundreds of boots were marching their way.

Steve grabbed Malone's hand, trying to pull her out the door, but she wouldn't budge. "I've got to go get him," she said seriously. "We'll come back, Malone! If you go now, it'll be suicide."

Malone looked up, a strange clicking sound coming from the door. She realized what was going on a millisecond before Steve did. She shoved him, hard, and he stumbled back out of the doorway. Immediately, a thick steel wall slammed down, locking her in and him out.

She watched grimly as all the doors and windows were covered in the thick metal. Malone turned and ran, calling for James. She passed many rooms, stopping briefly to peer in before moving on. Eventually, the sound of boots got louder. Her running got slower as time wore on, but she continued.

Finally, at the end of a long hall, she saw him. He walked calmly into a room, and she followed. Again, the door snapped shut behind her.

Her forehead creased as she struggled to understand what was going on. "James?" she asked miserably. A woman walked forward from behind Malone.

She was slender and tall, with long black hair and green eyes. Malone recognized her at once. This was the woman that had stabbed her with needles all those moths ago.

Malone reached for her curved daggers, but she had lost them in the fight with James. The woman watched impassively. "Did you really think," she said, her voice almost monotone, "It would be that easy?"

A/N

whoaaaaaa! That got real quick, right??

James BETRAYED her?! Crazy stuff. I was up at like two in the morning wondering where the heck this plot line was going when this just popped into my brain. MWAHAHAHA I feel like a really evil author right now. It's a good feeling. :)

I just couldn't help making Malone into a bloody and ruthless protectress... It just seemed so cool!

JUST TO BE CLEAR: James did not willingly betray her. I'm sure if he was in his right mind he wouldn't have let anything happen to her. Right now, he can't remember anything. He HAS the skills to escape, but he will follow orders because he is scared, and is afraid of the torture they put him through. Okay. Rant over.

This chapter is 2,209 words! Crazy!!!