Chapter Twelve

Natasha and Steve left the following morning. They were full of hope that they would find the mole within the month.

Days were peaceful for Malone and James, they trained all day and sometimes into the night. Mal was gaining muscle, more toned and in shape than ever before. For James, it was merely keeping his fighting skills sharpened.

They were at the safehouse for a month, and they had a simple routine. Routines are horrible, they make you predictable and easy to target. By the end of the month, Malone could almost take down James in hand-to-hand combat. Her gun skills had vastly improved, and she could hit the bulls-eye of the target every time with her throwing knives.

As they went about their days, they didn't know they were being watched. Constantly, they were under 24/7 surveillance. Hydra was waiting and planning, and they would attack within the hour.

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"James? Dinner's ready," Malone called down the basement stairs. She heard a faint clicking. He was cleaning the guns again.

Mal walked down the stairs when blackness clouded her vision. She screamed, turning around and whipping her foot to trip her attacker. She heard a thud as the attacker hit the ground. Malone tensed, pulling back to land a vicious kick when James's deep voice surprised her. "Malone, calm down. It's me."

Her fingers brushed the blindfold that was obscuring her vision. She ripped it off, stamping her foot in frustration, "James Barnes! You better explain what the-,"

Mal stopped, looking down at James. Was he.... Laughing? A blush appeared on her pale skin, he was laughing at her?

James looked up at her, "I did have a reason, for the record. It was a test, and you did well." She rolled her eyes in exasperation, "You scared the crap out of me, you idiot! Just come up here and eat dinner."

He reached up, asking for her help up. Malone obliged, taking his hand and pulling him up. James didn't let go of her hand, but instead stood exceptionally close to her.

She looked up at him, realizing what books mean when they say 'trapped within his gaze'. Mal couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He really was much too close. He leaned a bit closer to her. She turned her head and coughed awkwardly.

"Dinner?" she mumbled. James looked away from her, "Yeah. I'll be up in a minute."

At the top of the stairs, Malone leaned against the wall. Why hadn't she kissed him? She was attracted to him, wasn't she? Mal knew for a fact she had wanted, desperately, to kiss him. Maybe, just maybe, she was still afraid of his past.

She remembered, only a couple nights ago, James had finally wanted to talk. He told her about the dream, about him killing the little girl. He didn't cry, which surprised her. He was stoic, like he was reciting an excerpt from a boring book.

"How many people, James?" she had asked. "I don't remember," he replied, "I lost count." Her body went cold, delayed shock had coursed through her. The truth finally blazed through her mind and stuck. This wasn't a movie, or a television show, this man had killed actual people. The arms that were wrapped around her belonged to a man that had ended innocent lives.

That was, she believed, the problem. The reason she had pulled away from the kiss. She knew the reason, and James did too.

Malone walked into the kitchen, getting out the plates. She heard a scuffling sound behind her, "It's about time, James. Dinner is getting cold."

As she turned around to face him, she was slammed against the wall. A choked exhale left her lungs as she looked up in surprise. This wasn't James, in fact, she didn't know who this was.

The man was tall, he had thick black hair and terrible burn scars over his face and arms. His gloved hand was clamped over Malone's mouth, effectively keeping her from yelling.

He placed a thin knife to her neck, removing his hand from her mouth. "Scream," he commanded. Malone shook her head violently. "Scream so he'll come running." All Malone's training vanished, she was scared. She wanted James to save her. "Scream!"

Malone stilled, this was why James taught her. Because sometimes he wouldn't be able to save her. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath. The man's grip on her slackened, thinking she was about to comply. Mal jerked her head to the side and bit his hand. She bit down as hard as she could, tasting the coppery taste of blood.

He jerked his hand back. "You bitch!" he thundered. Malone ducked a punch directed at her head, kicking the man's kneecap and hearing a satisfying crack. She could hear James's heavy footsteps on the stairs.

Malone took a risk and glanced at the stairs. The man stabbed at her with the knife, but she was already moving. Mal caught his wrist as he stabbed down. Turning and using his weight against him, she flipped him over.

The man rolled over and kicked, sending Malone stumbling across the room. James appeared at the stairs, taking in the chaotic scene before him. "Rumlow!" he shouted. The man, who had gotten up, pivoted just in time to be tackled. James seethed in fury, looking down at the man who had taken part in his brainwashing. They stood, trading punches. Brock Rumlow stabbed down with his knife, but James blocked it. His metal arm clicked and hummed as he fought back. Rumlow stopped, looking behind James. He took the chance, slamming Rumlow's head down on the edge of the counter, opening up a bloody gash on the his forehead.

"James."

It was barely a whisper, but it caught his attention. Perhaps he knew what had happened, just from the tone of her voice. He turned to see Malone, gazing across the room. A slender woman with dark hair was behind her, but that wasn't what caught his attention. What caught his attention was the thick hypodermic needle stuck in her neck.

Malone's eyes rolled back into her head and she crumpled to the ground. James let go of Rumlow, and the beaten man slumped to the floor. Within seconds, James was by Malone. He yanked out the needle, inspecting it. "What did you give her?!" he yelled. The slender woman regarded him silently, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Malone convulsed. James watched in horror as a small trickle of blood leaked from her mouth. "Tell me what you gave her, or I swear I will kill you," he growled.

Brock Rumlow's voice was calm, "She's got less than a minute." He paused, "We do have an antidote, by the way." James exhaled softly, looking down at Mal. She wasn't convulsing anymore, but was scarily still. In all honesty, she already looked dead.

"What do you want for it?" James muttered bitterly. Rumlow gave a sick smile, "For the antidote? We want you." James nodded, "Fine. Just let her live." The slender woman plunged another needle into Malone. Almost immediately, her breathing strengthened.

James looked down at Malone as her eyes fluttered open slowly. He reached down and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. She caught his hand, holding it feebly. "Don't go," Mal whimpered, "Please?" He leaned down and kissed her, slowly and sweetly, "Я люблю тебя."

Rumlow grabbed James and dragged him out of the house. Malone wailed loudly, trying in vain to stand. Her legs crumpled beneath her as she howled in fury. Her head spun, and her vision went dark. She slipped into the sweet black void of unconsciousness.

Rumlow shoved James into a helicopter. James closed his eyes and hung his head. The helicopter rose slowly, taking James to the scenes of his worst nightmares. He had bought Malone's safety with the sacrifice of his own, and he didn't regret it. She was worth it, he thought. Images flitted through his brain, images he knew would be wiped from his memory soon. He saw her determined face as she trained, her golden hair spread out on the pillow beside him, he remembered the warmth and happiness he had felt when she was in his arms.

James opened his eyes and sat up straight, he had almost forgotten what a privilege it was to remember.

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A/N: Omg this took forever I swear. Is it good? Was it sad? Did you like it? Btw I may or may not have gotten kinda teary-eyed while writing this, just sayin'.

Vote, comment, share!!! ~Lady_Loki_00