𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 || 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘖𝘯𝘦

UPON WAKING UP, JAXON BLINKED A FEW TIMES, HANDS CLENCHED DOWN BY HIS SIDES. It took him a moment to quickly recognize his surroundings, but when he did, his body relaxed as he glanced around from his spot on the couch. Everything stood still, only able to hear his own lung inhaling oxygen and puffing it back out. And the cold that surrounded him told him enough that Natasha wasn't gone. If that hadn't been enough, the small coffee table holding a paper solidified the feeling.

I got called into work. I'll be back later tonight.
See you soon
- Nat <3

It was only barely noticeable, but a smile tugged at Jaxon's lips as he placed the paper down and sighed. Leaning back into the couch with his eyes flickering around the apartment. So much time, so few options to dabble in. The afternoon sun was setting, having slept practically all day after two days of searching and fighting his way to Natasha. Which left him energized, wondering what he would do with himself now.

His mind found itself back to the dream he'd seen, or memory. It must've been the memory of what Natasha had told him about him leaving and pushing her away. After all, the pieces connected rather correctly. It didn't say much, but it told him enough of what had happened the last time she saw him and the last time he saw her.

He searched deeper, focusing on the smaller details of the vision, hoping to find something that would open further memories locked away from him. But the longer he stayed thinking about that memory, the more he saw the pain and fear in Natasha's eyes. How she flinched and felt smaller under his rageful gaze. It hurt him knowing that he could strike those types of feelings in her.

Even as he sat here, enough knowledge to understand what he was before in small pieces, the man he was seemed foreign. Almost an entire ghost of who he was now. Then again, the possibility of reverting to that same person was still possible. Just with the addition of these new memories, he's spent without his past in his mind. But one thing he was sure of was the fact that he never wanted to put Natasha in that same position. This could be considered a new start for him, to shape himself into the person he wanted to become. Anything was possible.

After a while of sitting around, unsure of what to do, Jaxon had resorted to TV. Retreating to some entertainment to fill the silence around him and the memory screaming in his mind. Putting on Peaky Blinders, letting it play in the background as he had walked down the hall to Natasha's bedroom.

As expected, it stood bare with only a bed and a dresser. Barely enough to fill the extra space of the bedroom, but Jaxon had been quick to notice Natasha didn't search for extra. Simple living space was how she preferred things, telling by how the rest of the apartment didn't scream any personality to it. And something about that comforted and relaxed Jaxon.

Aimlessly searching the room, Jaxon had no clear objective in mind. Only interested to know more and more about this woman that he clearly had once loved. Hoping that something in her bedroom would be able to answer the smaller questions in his mind.

But all that could be found were the boxes in her closest. All ranging from sizes. A few held clothes that Jaxon was quick to guess were once his. Grabbing a quick outfit, Jaxon shrugged them over his shoulder before opening the last one. Cocking his head to the side, finding it to be held shut with a padlock. Something about the fact that Natasha was hiding something drew him in.

It could either lead to things relating to him or her and the risk was already calculated in his head and he was willing to face it. Grabbing the small thin handle, Jaxon carried it to the living room and let it thud to the ground beside the couch. Grabbing a butterknife and coming back to the box. Angling it at 90 degrees before breaking the lock off easily, snapping in half with butterknife bent. Snickering softly by how easy it had been to leverage it open.

Lifting the box open, files upon files stacked were what greeted him. Dust blanketed over the yellow plastic with the black writing smeared from how long they'd been locked away. Grabbing one and opening it, a woman's picture crossed in a large red x. Flipping it over, the location and time were inscribed on it. Mexico, 9:45 AM.

And the further he delved, the more people he saw having the exact same description as the ones before. It didn't take much for Jaxon to quickly piece together that these were his possible targets. Each having been killed by his hand, all from across the world.

At first, searching through his past had been his main priority, but the deeper down the rabbit hole he went, the more repulsed he was by himself. Not even feeling comfortable calling himself a human when he'd done these terrible acts all by himself and on his own accord. Which left many doors of possibilities open of what Jaxon may find if he wanted to go deeper. But if he'd been the cause of so much pain and sorrow for others, remembering anything may be the last thing he wished to do.

Lifting the entire file out and tossing it on the coffee table, one last folder sat at the bottom of the stack. The corners of a paper just peeking out from the edge, calling him to investigate what it could be. Grabbing ahold of it, he stared at the large bold slightly fading black letter "QUANTUM." Swallowing the lump in his throat, he flipped open the file and was greeted to a personal file much to the one had gathered from the one of him on the laptop.

The information drowned the thoughts already brewed in the pot that was Jaxon's mind. A considerable amount of info listed was known, but small pieces that could've been brushed over were sticking out like sore thumbs. The brightest colours in a sea of pure white.

But he couldn't dwell too long on it as he heard the faintest buzzing over the sound of the TV and his roaring thoughts. Scrambling towards the duffel bag and pulling the grey burner phone free. Flipping it open and answering.

"I presume you found Natasha's?" Straight to the point, just what Jaxon had hoped. It seemed like Harry was that type of person to not try and beat around the bush. His rough and looks gave off the impression the moment they had met back at the farm yesterday. "Yeah, I'm here."

A loud set of rhythmic knocks at the front door drew Jaxon's attention. Closing the burner phone and making his way to the door. Pressing his face to the peephole, he saw the bright blue eyes already piercing through to him. Harry wore a two-piece suit, a far better look than what Jaxon wore which was a t-shirt and some shorts. Taking advantage of the relaxation that he was given.

Without a moment of hesitation, Jaxon unlocked the door and opened it wide enough for the man to slip inside before shutting the door and locking it. "Have you regained your memory or are you still trying to unlock it?" Harry moved gracefully through the apartment, entering the kitchen first and searching the drawers. Jaxon followed him, slight confusion as to what the man had in mind of doing.

"No, I talked to Natasha and she didn't know anything other than when I sent her home after something happened in Santorini." He explained as he rubbed his temple. "There's something not adding up here- Oh, what the fuck are you doing?"

Harry, who now had a knife in hand, approached Jaxon. "Give me your arm."

"What the fuck are you-"

No further protests could be let out as Harry gripped the man's wrist and extended his arm out, cutting him off. "Each Quantum agent had an implant. It was chosen by the agent, help them try and feel like they had some sort of power even when they didn't." Harry explained as he scanned the scars that littered Jaxon's forearms. "These implants had tracking devices and I'm guessing yours never shut off." He explained with a faint hint of a smile on his lips. "Explains why I occasionally heard the chatter of a man causing chaos in Mexico."

With a sudden swipe of the knife, Harry had cut open an old scar. Earning a yell from Jaxon who ripped his arm free from the man's grasp. "What the hell, man!" Jaxon exclaimed in a hiss. "You've always been such a child for this type of stuff."

The condescending tone Jaxon earned only annoyed him as his arm was grabbed once again with Harry placing the knife down. Something about this didn't seem all too unfamiliar for Jaxon. From what he guessed, he and Harry had been friends for years now. Perhaps having gone on missions together with their dynamic being much the same as it had been before.

So, Jaxon only watched with a clenched jaw as Harry reached in the open flesh and searched for the implant. The feeling licking all across Jaxon's arm, groaning as he grabbed the frame that they stood in. Instead of them standing in silence, Harry spoke up. "Many people thought you were dead, including me and Natasha. We held out hope, but it turns out we weren't the only ones as well." He explained with a small smile appearing as he gripped the thin device between the tips of his fingers. "There we are."

Pulling it free, the small device flashed a blue light, coated in blood. Wiring outlined the body of the silver tech. Something small, yet held some sort of significance. Jaxon didn't know what to think at this point. The more he searched for answers, the more he learned and the more he learned, the more questions were added on. It was becoming a cycle that Jaxon had no indulgence of partaking in.

"Break this and then get a bandage on your arm. Don't need you bleeding all over the floor." Harry told him before turning towards the kitchen sink and plunging his hands under the stream of water.

After snapping the device in half and finding the first aid kit in the bathroom and bandaging himself up, Jaxon came back into the living area. Finding the MI6 agent exiting the kitchen where the tap ran over the laptop, destroying it permanently. In a fraction of a moment, Jaxon felt slightly hopeless despite his abilities to be able to protect himself. It annoyed him that he needed someone else to hold his hand through the problems that surrounded him.

But something about this feeling felt all too familiar. Always have a helping hand just in case of a mishap or one that is eager. Jaxon could only guess that this entire feeling related to Natasha, willing to put down everything to help him through whatever it was that needed her attention.

"What happened in Santorini?" Jaxon spoke up suddenly, drawing the other man's attention. "It had been a job gone wrong. Civilians killed with mercenaries dead with them. Why, did you remember something?" Harry inquired, hands finding their places in the pockets of his black slacks.

There had been a single breath of silence with Jaxon's lips parting. Eyebrows knitted together in thought as he slightly shook his head. "I remember arriving back at the hotel Natasha and I shared and asked her something about a group having known I was already there." The whole situation of it all had begun to let a pounding headache emerge from the surface.

"Do you remember calling me asking for my assistance?" That had Jaxon's eyes slightly widening, but relaxing as he shook his head. "Do you remember the target?"

Immediately, Jaxon's eyes flickered to the paper folder on the coffee table. Photos of all the innocent and deserving targets he'd killed. Harry didn't waste a moment to walk over with quick strides and grabbed the multiple pictures. Flipping through them, meeting the same red x on each person's face. All until he stopped at one, frowning slightly as he scanned the photo over.

The silence had begun to build a tenseness in the air. Anticipation riddling Jaxon's bloodstreams as he waited an answer or a reveal to the question.

It only lasts for a second, the pair's eyes connecting for a brief sliver of a second. Until a loud gunshot rips through the air and a bullet whips past them. Hitting the TV and embedding itself in the wall behind said TV. That had been all it took for Jaxon to duck down, reaching atop the coffee table and grabbing his pistol with Harry grabbing the one from the back of his pants.

"Who was it?" Jaxon found the moment to ask, only having noticed his curiosity rise from the expression his old friend held. Another gunshot rang out, piercing the top of the couch and causing the fluff to fly out. "The Quantum project didn't have multiple agents, Jaxon. There was always only ever one."

Grabbing a hold of the picture, Harry tossed it at the man as he sat up and fired a few shots. But in that small brief of time, Jaxon's eyes glossed over the photo and felt his brows knit together. The unmistakable similarities between him and this man shook him. Of course, this man looked older, far more rugged than Jaxon, but the almost uncanny resemblance was there.

He wasn't given much time to dwell on it as Harry grasped his arm as another gunshot rang out. Having seen the shocked and spaced-out look formed on Jaxon's face as he stared at the photo. He didn't blame him because although it hadn't been a straightforward answer, the underlying meaning was enough for Jaxon to understand and be shocked by. "We need to move. I would prefer not to be here when Natasha gets back. No telling what that woman will do with our heads." He explained before yanking Jaxon to his feet and rushing out the front door. Dodging two gunshots that slipped past them as they exited the apartment.

They ran down the corridor, ducking when another bullet flew through the window down the hall. Running down the stairs in desperation, Jaxon grounded himself by gripping the pistol even tighter in his grasp. Bursting through the stairwell door and following Harry out the back door.

The warm New York sun blasted down on him as he sprinted to the Jeep where Harry was slipping into the driver's seat. Getting inside, the vehicle tumbled to life just at the edge of the parking lot, their assailant appeared. And it had been the same man both of them saw as the last target that bested Jaxon.

"Go!" Jaxon yelled, pushing Harry's head down as the older man slammed on the gas. Bullets flew through the front windshield, whizzing past the two men as they peeled out of the parking lot and skittering onto the road. In a quick movement, Jaxon leaned back in his seat and hiked his legs up before kicking the windshield that had multiple holes in it, obscuring the road ahead of them. It flew right off, sent flying ahead down the road as they swerved around it.

Once they were in the clear, Jaxon let out a harsh breath, noticing how long he had held it under the clear stress flowing through his bones. Sending a quick glance over to Harry who had put his full focus on driving. Now, in search of a safe place, they could hold out for the time being.