SOMEWHERE NEAR DC, 2014

└── 【🕷࿐°*˖✧⋅⍟⋅✧˖*°࿐🕷】 ──┘

James took this as sign enough and started walking. He counted steps, street signs, the number of times the dirty toe of Noelle's boots got kicked into his tender side, and the number of short, muffled apologies that followed. Everything was loud, everything was busy, including the inside of his own skull, but the simple structure of numbers kept him functional. It kept him on task.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It was sort of sad really, reverting to numbers, the sort of monotonous thing so deeply ingrained into his mind that HYDRA couldn't dig it out, couldn't wipe him of it even if they pulled his brain from its cradle and got to work with steel wool, but it was also what had kept him functional for so long, so, James supposed there was need for it in the end.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James had to stay on track for both of them, take care of both of them, protect them- and he couldn't do that if his brains were scattered everywhere from there to Siberia, a place that sounded painfully familiar. It rang in his head a specific way, the same way Russian rolled off of the tongue in that weird, painful way that made his stomach twist and turn with discomfort, like he was never really meant to speak it, it was just a byproduct of his imprisonment. Imprisonment. He had been a prisoner of war. James wasn't sure how he knew that, but it resounded somewhere in the far back of his head, like a shining metal button, caught in the light of a dusty attic. James felt it, and he couldn't unfeel it.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He mulled it over as he walked.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Eventually, his eyes landed on the little sign he had seen in the pamphlet. He opened the glass door with his back to avoid moving Noelle. She was comfortable. Her temple was rested against the top of his shoulder, and her eyes were open too, he could tell only by the way she would crane her neck every so often to get a better glimpse at something that interested her.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A young woman in a little apron approached them both, and judging by the way her gaze flickered from James, and occasionally down to the brown haired girl in his arms, Noelle was staring. Thankfully though, she made no comment, and instead led James and Noelle to a little booth in the corner, surrounded by windows, but he chose not to gripe. He was thankful for the light.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Noelle was too, apparently, because after a while of sitting in James' lap, basking in the sun, she peeled herself away like a piece of velcro that didn't quite want to go, but she sat next to him anyway. Then, she did the unexpected, and gazed straight out the window and into the street. Now that she had some distance from the honking, and the feet, and the door bells, and it was just her and her Soldier in a barely crowded diner, she found the world pretty captivating.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She was almost a little embarrassed really, for freaking out the way she did, this morning and on the street. Noelle knew she wasn't a normal little girl anymore, and she wondered if she was even a little girl at all, normal or not. Noelle supposed though, that this why they had all hated her, since she was born, since she was young, since forever. She was the weakest of all links, and HYDRA had never once been too shy to tell her.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James, though, had just held her, held her like she was little, and she didn't know how to feel about it. "Where are we..." Noelle paused, licking her lips and turning to face James. "Where are we going, James." This was the first time she had said his name, and for that reason, he wished he had had a real answer for her.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I'll figure it out." 'I'll figure it out' Noelle had learned young was just 'I don't know' for adults who were trying to look stronger, and smarter than they really felt at the time, but because she liked James, more than she had ever liked anything ever, she didn't say anything about it.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Ok."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A beat of silence passed before Noelle went right back to looking out the smudged window, and once the sight of people passing began to bore her, she swiveled and rested her face against the side of James' arm. No one pulled them apart. They used to, when they'd get too close and a job was over, someone would drag him away, and they'd have to step out of the way of her pathetic punches and kicks.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She tried to peer at the piece of paper in his hands, it was shiny, and from the way James' fingers would make an odd, prickly sort of noise every time he adjusted his hold on it, Noelle figured it was sticky too. Her eyebrows cinched in the middle as she stared at the odd collection of English letters. "What does it say?" She asked with a frown.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James made a sort of acknowledging hum, not bothering to really look down at her though. "It's got food on it." He responded, sort of absentmindedly. Noelle couldn't tell if he was, like her, stumbling around in his own head trying to pick up the little shattered pieces of himself, or if he was reading- either way, she rolled her eyes lightly.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I can tell." Noelle whispered, cracking a little smile.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He paused for a minute, dead in his tracks. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Then, he laughed, a sort of genuine, airy laugh that Noelle had never heard before, and James didn't know he was still capable of producing. "Not actual food," James tapped a picture of what Noelle was able to recognize as eggs. "It's like a list."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She nodded slowly, looking at the pictures now instead of the mass amount of barely legible words. After a moment of consideration, her index finger landed on a mountain of pancakes, dripping with syrup and topped with butter. The meaning was unspoken and James nodded. "Okay." He said gently, smoothing out her hair again.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ They sat in silence for a while, before a waitress came up to them and asked their order. Noelle stared at her, fawned at the little ribbons on the ends of her braids. It was cute, she liked it a lot. There wasn't time for dressing up pretty in HYDRA. There had been too much blood for her to keep anything nice, if she had ever even had it to begin with.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The pretty waitress smiled down at Noelle, gave her a little wave which the girl returned almost instantly, and when the lady returned, it was with armfuls of food. James, apparently, had been rather hungry, as this wasn't any sort of meager meal, though the subtle rumble of Noelle's stomach meant that she likely wasn't going to turn down the encroaching stack of golden brown pancakes either.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Thanks." James offered appreciatively, giving a curt nod to the waitress before dipping his head low. They were fugitives right now, this whole meal was a gamble and a half. HYDRA could find them again, or maybe worse the man from the beach could find them, and force James to come face to face with questions he wasn't sure he wanted to answer, but Noelle needed normal, and this was normal. Just a man his- he paused.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ What was Noelle? Their circumstance was a strange one. How do you explain the bond you have with a little girl, who weighed only about forty or fifty pounds soaking wet? How do you look someone in the eye and explain that she isn't really your kid, just a tortured little orphan you saved from scientific testing and assassination? What's the title for that?

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James didn't know, but as he stuck a thoughtful forkful of food into his mouth, the questions sizzled away the distant sound of butter in a hot pan. Goddamn, he had missed good meals. He couldn't remember the last time he had a good one like this, though there was a dull throbbing in the back of his head, a memory screaming at him from behind a wall he couldn't pass through. A woman humming.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. He didn't like knowing, and he didn't like remembering. There was no pleasant way to reclaim who he was, James supposed, though then again, as far as he could recall, his life had never really been pleasant.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A finger dug into his side, and James diverted his attention to Noelle, looking up at him with cinched brows. "Talk." She said flatly, frowning. James was sure there was more to that, and it took him a second to discover her second secret meaning. He really needed to teach her more English, maybe once they found a place to call home.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "I'm okay, pinky promise." He responds, elbowing her lightly. She doesn't flinch, and he's relieved. James hadn't thought much about the motion, an old habit seeping through years of conditioning, but she trusted him.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Okay." Noelle finally frowns, turning back to her plate and stuffing almost a whole half a pancake into her mouth. Bits of her hair were hanging down, dipping onto her plate and into the pool of amber colored syrup, flowing down like water from her breakfast. James realized quickly he probably should've been watching her.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "Shit," He muttered, reaching towards her and brushing the hair out of her face and tucking the loose strands behind her little ears. "You're gonna get sticky stuff in your hair, princess."

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ James half expected her to back up, but she didn't, merely shrugged and continued shoveling food into her mouth like a starved animal, which was a little closer to the actual truth than James was really comfortable with. He was half tempted to tell her to pace herself, as he thought back to one of her first real meals, when she had eaten so much on an empty stomach that she had gotten sick and thrown up almost instantly, but he didn't. James figured she deserved this, and they'd cross any and all bridges later.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ There was, of course, the bridge of where they were going after this. They couldn't stay in America, nor could they stay in that hotel. They needed to go somewhere quiet, somewhere under the radar, somewhere no one would know their faces and Noelle could be safe. James needed to cross that one soon. He had a few ideas, but everything was starting to pile on top of itself, smothering him in thoughts and ideas and memories.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He would figure it out, he had too, for her. 

─── © aliza_d_nubby