15 – Triggers

I release Tessa, and she rubs her throat, sputtering. I watch her, and she looks back at me. Nobody says a word.

Tessa stands up straighter. "A-Angel?"

I blink. I don't say a word. Am I supposed to? Tessa is your handler. You can talk to her. She won't hurt you like the others do. I tilt my head. "Ready to comply."

Tessa sniffs. I'm not sure why she's looking at me like she's done something wrong. "Any S.H.I.E.L.D. agents you find, y-you—you kill. Any high profile targets, you leave alive." She picks the gun up off the floor and offers it to me. "Detain, don't kill."

I nod mutely. I don't understand the look in Tessa's eyes, the unnecessary tears down her face. Don't worry about her. She gave you a job. Time to do it.

Cracking my neck, I take the gun from Tessa and leave the room. I have to follow the sounds of chaos to actually find some. I find bodies as breadcrumbs, some HYDRA, some S.H.I.E.L.D. It's an even mix of both. We'll take this base. When we do, S.H.I.E.L.D. will fall. It will become extinct.

I'm not sure why HYDRA wants the high profile targets alive. Hell, I still want the Winter Soldier dead instead of alive like Grant Ward wants. I'm the Asset. There is no plural, no "Assets". There is only me.

But if you disobey, you're gonna get yourself hurt. It might be the worst pain you've ever felt.

Once I find a sliver of chaos, I settle. It's almost like being welcomed home, with the familiar sounds and sights. The gunfire, the bodies falling. Truthfully, I don't care which sides loses the most. As long as I remain alive, that's all that matters.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents act as though I'm on their side, some have a shine of hope in their eyes. I don't know why on earth they would think I'm their ally. Once I kill one, they realize who I really am. But by the time they draw their weapons on me, HYDRA agents take them down.

"Don't," says a female HYDRA agent to another, who's got their gun pointed at me. "She's ours again."

"Will she be able to be in control?"

"Tessa gave her the assignment, she'll listen. Let her do her job, and we'll do ours. We've got to leave no prisoners, except any Avengers you find. We need to stop them from leaving this base. If we let them escape, we get hell for it." The agent looks to me. "Go fetch, Angel."

I'm demeaned, but I still obey. No, I don't sniff for the scents of my prey, that's just idiotic and belittling to even think about doing.

HYDRA agents spread out, a few tail behind me. When a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or two peek out, I shoot them dead-on. None require more than one bullet.

I scour the halls, most of which are empty except with the bodies of the dead. The siren is slowly becoming background noise to me, despite it being continuously annoying. I'm waiting to see a shadow run down the hall so I can pursue.

"Come out and play," I sing. My beckon is drowned out by the sirens. I take careful steps through the base, on occasion hearing a gun or two fire off from a distance.

As I turn a corner, I get punched in the face by Natasha Romanoff, feeling an electric bite as an aftertaste. I stumble back, quickly regathering myself. By the time I set my gun and try to fire, she kicks the weapon out of my hand and sends it away from the both of us. Her red hair flies as she attacks, a combination of swift moves, kicks, and fake-outs to try and slip me up. She may be trained well, but I'm not an amateur. Romanoff jumps back, and I notice the electric-blue lined gloves she's got on her hands. So that's where the shock is coming from. Too bad I don't have something to chop those claws off with.

I run for Romanoff, leaping over her head, trying to be fancy and hit her while in midair. She ducks, and when I land, she kicks at my legs. She catches me off balance, and I go to the floor but quickly roll when she pounces for me. I punch at her leg, and I force myself up, sending my head into her stomach, and us both crashing into the nearest wall. I back off, pulling my fist back for a punch. She jumps down, so my fist bites right through the wall. I glance down, seeing her roll between my legs. Quickly, I spin around, kicking her in the back, sending her into the opposite wall, head first. She doesn't have a hard impact.

I don't let up. I launch a kick at her face, which she blocks with both of her arms. I alternate my kicks, aiming lower, trying to find a breach in her method.

I turn my head at the footsteps, long enough to feel the impact of the Winter Soldier taking me out with a tackle. It send us both sliding against the floor, our clothes getting slightly ripped in the process. I elbow his face repeatedly until I can scramble out of his grip. I get my hands on his throat and shove him into a wall.

"You're not walking out alive, Soldier," I hiss in his face. "You had your shot."

I let out a sharp gasp as I feel the bullet pierce near my hip. The bullet isn't from behind me, it hit me in the front. The pain is white-hot and blinding, but I don't let go of the Soldier. I'm holding in my pain, I'm screaming in my head.

This time I scream as I feel a second bullet hit me, this time from behind. I let go of the Soldier, my body going into violent tremors. Blood leaks from the one hole in me. The second bullet felt like it hit somewhere in my lower back. I stumble back, half-turning, to find Natasha Romanoff with my gun in her hand.

I'm going to kill her. When I stumble for her, my body goes down. All kinds of alarm bells are screaming in my body, on top of the sirens that still haven't shut up. I'm not laying comfortably on the ground, I've hit my side, the one where the first bullet hit. My hand hovers over the one I can see. The trail of red slowly pools on the floor.

I'm sputtering for breath, craning my neck up to see the Soldier standing over me. My vision is going dark, because I can't see his features.

"You know you want to," I drawl, coughing. "One more shot. One more...bullet."

As my eyes close, I hear fresh gunfire erupt in the hall. I feel someone almost trip over my legs. I groan softly in pain. The sirens drown out any voices that I think I can hear.

Well, I can't say that I didn't try. I can't get punished if I'm dead. Being shot and bleeding out is punishment in itself.

Gunfire echoes in my head as I fall unconscious.

***

"Okay, tell me what it is," I demand, pacing in the foyer. "Is it another girl? Are you having an identity crisis? What is it?"

Adam looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Tori, just let me explain—"

"I haven't heard an explanation out of your damn mouth since you came back!"

"That's because," he gets in front of me and physically stops my pacing, "I want your full attention when I tell you."

I glare at him. "Tell me, Adam."

"Look, there is no affair." He gently leads me to sit on the couch. "I know you had your doubts when I told you this was going to be a long distance sort of thing. I'm trying to help you understand what I do."

"You never told me what you do." I cross my arms, leaning away from him.

"It's because...what I do is dangerous, Tori."

"Shit, my boyfriend is a drug lord."

"What? No. I'm not the bad guy. My job is me catching the bad guys."

"So, you're a cop?"

"More like...government agent."

"So, FBI? CIA?"

"Not necessarily."

I groan. "Adam."

"I'm trying my best here, Tori. It's complicated. I help keep the world safe from terrorist threats."

"So you are CIA."

"No," he repeats.

"Then what are you?"

"I work for an organization. S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Never heard of it."

"It exists. It's not a ghost organization, but, we like to work quietly without drawing a lot of attention to ourselves."

I get comfortable against the couch, using my arm to keep my head up. My boyfriend is a government worker? "And you didn't think to bring this up sooner because...?"

"I want to protect people, including you." He takes one of my hands, rubbing circles on top of it. "Our enemies are evil, Tori. They're ruthless. If they got a hold of any personal information, they'd use it in a heartbeat against us. I never want that information to fall into the wrong hands. I don't want to be in a position where I put your life at risk." He sighs heavily. "I'm doing so just by telling you this."

"Does this 'S.H.I.E.L.D.' have a record on me? Do you tell people about me?"

"A few that I genuinely trust." He shrugs. "It's a well-kept secret." He squints. "You look like you don't believe me."

"I think I believe you," I say slowly. "It's kind hard to wrap my head around right now." I chuckle. "Here I thought our relationship was hitting an iceberg, when really the distance is because you help keep the world safe."

"Believe me, when I get any time away from work, I come straight home to you." He leans in to peck my nose. "Nowhere else."

I blush. "That's comforting. Just means I'll worry about you a lot more now."

"You wouldn't be a good girlfriend if you didn't."

***

Girlfriend.

I'm starting to think my dreams with Adam Strider—which are more memories—are real and not made up in any sort of way.

The thing that brings me back to consciousness is the dull pain pulsing through my body. I don't move as I open my eyes. My head is propped on a pillow, I'm stuck sprawled on a couch. My left arm is hanging over the furniture, and down towards my abdomen, with my shirt pulled up so he can look at what he's doing, is the Winter Soldier. He's got a needle adorned with thread in his hand.

I already know what he's about to do.

"You sure you're qualified to do this?" I croak.

Winter picks his head up and looks at me. "Huh. Thought you'd be out longer."

"Sorry to disappoint. If you want, I'll let you knock me out the old-fashioned way. One time only deal."

"Not happening. You can pass out any time you want. Although, unless you're bad with needles, I don't think you will. I did the worst of the cleaning while you were out."

My skin there is smeared with faint red. My blood. Winter must've cleaned me off when we got here...wherever this is. I don't really feel in the mood to look at my surroundings at the moment.

"Got the bullets out. You were out cold, lucky for the both of us. I stopped the bleeding." He smirks.

"My hero," I deadpan.

"Don't look if this bothers you."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Winter?" I tease grimly, wincing. "I don't remember training including stitching up wounds." I focus on him as I feel the needle poke into my skin. "No numbing agent?"

"Sorry, I didn't bring a pharmacy with me. You remember a lot?"

"Off the top of my head, me being in pain. A lot of dead bodies. Gunfire. The usual." I roll my eyes. "Thanks for not leaving me to rot back there."

He shrugs. "Don't move." His eyes settle on me. "Got a problem?"

"I'd rather look at you than my stitches."

"Squeamish, huh?" He chuckles. "Cold-blooded killer, kills without remorse, and yet here you are."

I grunt. "Watch it. I'm not...her, anymore."

"Jury's still out on that one." He falls into silence to finish his patchwork on me. A few times, I squirm, to which he puts a hand on any uninjured skin to keep me steady. "The longer you stay still, the easier this will be on the both of us."

To the best of my ability, I remain still. A few times, I wiggle. Once the stitches are done, Winter leaves me to grab something. I remain on my back and take note of the room. It's small, and it's dark, minus the one lamp he's got going. I'm assuming it's night time where we are.

From where I'm lying, I can see the kitchen. When I turn my head to my left, I can see an entrance to a small bedroom, with a window that has pulled blinds.

Winter comes back with some thick bandages. This process takes less time, just a few moments for placements and a few times for him to smooth them over so they stick.

"That should be able to hold over," he says, looking rather satisfied with his work. "Take a load off, I'll keep watch."

I snort, remembering where we were coming from. A now-captured base. Scattered allies everywhere. Nobody knows the casualty total. I know absolutely nothing, I don't know what Winter knows.

All this can be thought up tomorrow. Listen to him and hope that he doesn't try anything.

"If you try anything, I'll know," I threaten lowly.

Winter walks to the lamp and clicks it off. "No, you won't. Remember, you're the newer model, but I'm the original."

He sounds very reluctant to admit that fact, too. I don't blame him.

**One word to describe this chapter?**