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The way up the elevator was the most uncomfortable setting (Y/N) had ever found herself in. Sousa and Thompson were still gripping onto her arms, as if they were afraid she might vanish if they let go of her for just one second. Just when she thought the uncomfortableness might be over, the elevator doors opened and they were brought into the SSR headquarters, where everyone stopped what they were doing to focus on who the handcuffed person was. (Y/N) was sure this was one of the most humiliating moments in her entire life, considering she'd been placed in similarly awkward positions.

Sousa and Thompson dragged her into the middle of the bullpen, where Chief Dooley was already waiting for them with a stoic look on his face. (Y/N) knew he was hoping that she wouldn't make eye contact with him, but she did. She wanted to show him that she wasn't ashamed of what she had done, because it was the right thing to do.

"I can explain everything," she spoke up for the first time in a while. "All of it."

Chief Dooley didn't utter a single word but instead gestured at Sousa and Thompson to follow him. (Y/N) didn't have to be a genius to know where they were taking her — the interrogation room. She just hoped that they wouldn't use the same methods they practiced on every suspect on her, because that would make them predictable.

The door to the interrogation room was shut close in an awfully rough moment, probably to demonstrate how angry Chief Dooley was about the entire situation. (Y/N) was so accustomed to be on the other side of the double-way mirror, that she had forgotten how it looked like from this side.

"Sit."

(Y/N) was shoved backwards into the wooden chair by Thompson, whose frown never wavered since the minute he arrested her. He knelt down and unlocked the handcuffs on one of her wrists, only to lock it underneath the table to prevent her from doing any sudden movements.

"Is this absolutely necessary?" she questioned.

"You and your friend Carter put three SSR agents in the hospital today, so, yeah, it's necessary."

Thompson pushed himself up to his full height and leaned against the wall along with Chief Dooley, eyes never leaving her figure. At the mention of Peggy, (Y/N) swallowed the lump of her throat, afraid that she might've been arrested as well.

Sousa slowly slid a photograph for (Y/N) to see, only to internally wince when she recognized it.
She could recognize her figure on the picture even though she purposely turned the other way to avoid her face getting captured. Of course, she didn't do a good job in hiding it, and neither did Peggy, since she was posed beside her amongst the many other people in that picture. Then, Sousa reached out to place the Blitzkrieg Button beside the photograph, causing (Y/N)'s jaw to involuntarily clench at the sight of it.

"Don't go easy on her just because she's a girl," Chief Dooley warned Sousa.

"Let's get started."

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"You're awfully quiet, I wouldn't want to talk either, if I was in your shoes."

Sousa spoke up after presenting all evidence against (Y/N) on the table. She, just as he stated, didn't utter a single word as he placed photograph after photograph about every single event that had happened after being presented with the Stark case. She had her arms crossed over her end of the table, eyes flickering from picture to picture, recognizing all of them.

"We have photos of you at Spider Raymond's club, a witness placing you in a truck full of nitramene, another witness who says you were at the boat where Stark hid all of his toys. Then there's the dead bodies."

He pushed three separate pictures to her line of sight. "Spider Raymond, Leet Brannis, Ray Krzeminski."

"You think that I killed Agent Krzeminski?" (Y/N) blurted out of the anger for that accusation. "I mourned him with the rest of you."

"Yeah, I attended that performance."

"Christ, you're inconceivable."

"That's rich," Sousa spat in the same tone as her. He rounded the table and leaned forward so that she could see how visibly angry that made him. "That's rich, coming for you. I had your back for six months, while you were waiting to plant a knife in mine. What? You want to pretend we're still friends? We're pals? You want to talk?"

His hands went to grab the Blitzkrieg Button and held it up. "Talk about this."

"This is all very impressive, Agent Sousa," (Y/N) dodged the question with ease. "You've assembled a solid bit of evidence here. And I get that you rarely get a shot to take the lead, so you're seizing this moment with everything you've got. But you are wasting valuable time. There's not only one, but two trained killers out there, and they're smaller players in a bigger scheme. Someone else is pulling their strings."

"My brain is melting," Sousa sarcastically said. He grabbed his crutch and walked toward the door. "I'm getting some coffee."

Sousa slammed the door behind him and didn't come back for a while. (Y/N) patiently waited for him, drumming her fingers against the table, knowing that the Chief was discussing what to do next behind the other side of the mirror. When the door finally slammed open, she expected Sousa to walk in and continue, but instead, she was received by Thompson.

"I'm confused." was the first thing he said as he moved to lean against the mirror. "You're good, Dewitt. Holy cow, you are good. There's a dozen guys out there, who wish they could play the game half as well as you."

"I wasn't playing a game," (Y/N) argued defensively, her eyes following his form as he walked over to the table. "Never was and never will!"

"Tell that to Krzeminski!" Thompson slammed his hand against the wood.

(Y/N) didn't want to give him the satisfaction of flinching back. Instead, she leaned her back to the chair to pretend she wasn't fazed. "You know, if you want to hit me, now's your chance."

"I don't want to do that, Dewitt, Something's not right here," Thompson crossed his arms and paced back and forth across the room. "I saw what you did in Russia. What you did for that mission, what you did for me? You saved my life. This doesn't add up."

"That's because I'm not responsible for Krzeminski's death or the theft of Howard Stark's inventions."

"'Theft'?" Thompson repeated her words incredulously. "Wow. He's really got you wrapped around his little finger, doesn't he? I got to give it to him. He's as good as they say."

"'As good as they say'?"

"He got in so deep, he scrambled your brain."

This made (Y/N)'s blood boil. She lifted her head to lock eyes with him. "Howard Stark has never scrambled my brain or any other part of me."

"Come off it, Dewitt," Thompson scoffed and leaned back on the table. "There is no harm in admitting that he and you have a thing going on, or had. Because from the look of it, Stark's hung you out to dry."

He took his eyes off her for a second to look back at the mirror, where the Chief was surely watching. He turned his head back and lowered his tone, making sure it was loud enough for her to hear him.

"Listen to me," he murmured. "You need to make a deal. Stark is the one we want. Just tell us about him. Save yourself."

"The only thing I can tell you about him is he is not the man you're looking for," (Y/N) stated firmly. "But the SSR is blind as a bat when it comes to Howard Stark, which is why I have been conducting my own investigation."

(Y/N) decided it would be better to unwrap Peggy's name out of this, preferring to take the fall instead of her. She knew that they already had the suspicion that they were working together, but if she stated that it wasn't like that, she might clean Peggy's name and not let it get dragged through the mud, like hers must likely will be.

"That's not entirely true," Thompson shook his head. "Before Sousa sniffed you out, we were starting to explore other avenues."

"Then by any means necessary, let's stroll down another avenue. What would you like to talk about?"

He grabbed the Blitzkrieg and slightly shook it, making her tense. "Give us something, Anything."

"Tell me what you know about this."

(Y/N) stayed quiet after this. She remembered Howard's words quite perfectly. If they found out that they had the last sample of Steve's blood, then they will keep it under lock and key, making sure she'll never get to see the last remains of her friend again.

"What? You don't want to explain this?" Thompson asked after a beat of silence. "Fine. Let's go a little further in the past." He glanced back at the mirror before continuing. "I want to talk about the Battle of Finow."

"Very well, but you'll be the one to talk, because I never set foot in Finow."

"That worked out good for you," he pressed. "Because most of the people that served there are dead, except for a few of your Russian buddies."

"You think you know me, but I've never been more than what each of you has created of me," she lowered her tone, almost sneering every word. Her eyes flickered from the man in front of her to the mirror behind him, knowing who was watching. "To you, I'm the secretary turned damsel in distress. Or the stray kitten, left on your doorstep to be protected. And the girl on the pedestal, transformed into some idiotic whore."

"You're acting like children!"

Silence filled the interrogation room.

"What's even worse is that this is just low-grade police work," she continued. "You were feet away from the man that you want when you loaded me into your car. You should be looking for Louis, who by now, I assume, has ditched his alias."

She mentally cursed herself for never bothering to learn his last name, for not suspecting anything wrong with his behavior when he suddenly moved into the apartment across from hers. How could she had been so careless? A voice in the back of her head reminded her that, if her theory was right, then he was a trained assassin, which means he was an expert in infiltrating anywhere he set foot in.

"The deal I offered?" Thompson sat back down on his chair. "It's now off the table."

"That's fine," (Y/N) responded in her natural tone. "I wasn't going to take it anyway."

"Any minute, Dooley's gonna pull me out of here and ask me to do something to you that I don't want to do," Thompson's eyes were squinted, as if he were trying to figure out his next move. " (Y/N), you've watched me on the other side of that glass. You know what I'm capable of."

"And you know what I'm capable of."

okay if you know how the original scene goes, forgive me for not knowing how to write scenes like that. someday ill figure it out lol.

things are getting a lot more interesting now !! hope you're prepared.

- see you soon, bex <3