∆ {2⁴} {FILE R-D-E-A-R-N} ∆

ROXI HAD ALWAYS had a problem with money. She had never been one to trust without reason, and with money, you were supposed to trust a simple material to keep you alive. Especially something as changeable as money, that had different values in different places and changed practically every month. That was one of the reasons she hadn't liked Tony Stark much; he relied on it for practically everything. But right now, she was perfectly fine to pay for gas as they drove back to DC as long as Steve let her sit in silence and think.

Natasha was sat in the front again, while Steve once again drove as Roxi sat slumped against the seat, staring out the window as the landscape passed. The redhead had been passed out most of the journey and had only just started to wake up as Roxi's mind continued to race. Her back stung like hell, but she wasn't focusing on that. She could faintly hear Natasha starting to ask Steve questions, but the headline '17 dead in train crash' flashed before her eyes. It wasn't until she really focused on the mental image of the article that she realised why it was familiar. The date in the top corner had read '10 June 1985'. That was the day her parents had died, or so she'd been told. Was that just a happy accident? It couldn't be, this was HYDRA, after all. Were they simply collateral damage, or had HYDRA been aiming to kill them? She didn't know. Perhaps she never would. And then there was Fury's file, with the simple word stamped in red over his photo. The word 'DECEASED' flitted through her mind like a bug, and she wrenched her gaze from the window and stared at the ceiling of the car, hoping that it would make the image go away.It didn't help. If anything, the word looked more vivid against the woven grey fabric, showing up as a dark shade of red unsettling similar to blood. There was something so final about seeing it in that file, stamped with the unwavering confidence that the man with the long black trench-coat and eye-patch was actually gone.

And then there were all these little feelings that she'd never felt before. They unsettled her and made her uncomfortable, but it was strangely nice. She wasn't exactly sure why they were happening or what was causing them, but she knew that for some reason, she wanted to feel it again. She didn't realise that she'd been fiddling with her keyring and tracing the scars on her arms, both the bottle scars on her left wrist and the burn scar on her forearm, until Natasha half-shouted a question at her.

"Ryder! You okay?" The question jolted Roxi half out of her trance, as her gaze snapped onto the redhead who was twisted around in the front seat to look at her.

"Yeah," she answered instinctively, before looking back out the window. Natasha knew that she wasn't however; she'd noticed that the brunette tended to fiddle with her keyring when she was a little uncomfortable, and she rubbed the scars on her left arm when she was deep in thought about something she didn't actually want to think about. However, the redhead felt it would be best to leave her alone and confront her later, especially with Steve in the car. After a while, she noticed that Ryder had stopped fiddling, and that her chest was rising and falling gently as she slept. It was a light sleep, and her right hand was now clasped around something inside her jacket, likely a gun, or a weapon of some kind. The silence lasted for a few moments longer, before Natasha asked Steve the same question.

"Is she actually okay?" Steve glanced at her, pausing from drumming his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment to assess his answer before he looked back to the road and replied.

"I'm not sure, I think she got caught in the blast a bit before you pulled her in. I didn't ask, 'caus I figured she wouldn't answer."

"She finds it hard to trust," Natasha supplied, defending the sleeping woman in the back of the car.

"Yeah well, maybe I should take a leaf out of her book," He considered.

"It kinda seems like you already have," Natasha shot back, referring to the number of occasions where Steve was more than a little reluctant to trust her. Though that was partly her fault, she reasoned; if he hadn't found her on the Lemurian Star, he might've found it easier to believe her. An hour and a half later, as they finally neared DC again, and as the sun begun to rise over the horizon, Roxi woke up. Her neck was stiff an it ached from the slightly curled position she was sleeping in, and she noticed for the first time that her leather jacket had been completely burned through on the back. There wasn't much she could do about that except be annoyed; she'd left her spare at home. Thankfully, her weapons were fully intact, besides the small knife she had, which had been bent out of shape by the force of the fall. It was only then, when she sat up and looked in the mirror, that she realised that her face was covered with soot and dust. With a slight sigh, followed by a small cough, before she wiped her face in her dirty, torn grey t-shirt that she'd carelessly thrown on that morning.

"Where are we going?" She asked, starting off in a raspy voice until she cleared her throat mid-sentence. Steve jumped slightly and the car swerved lightly to the left before he answered.

"Uh, to a friend's." Roxi's eyes flashed in distrust.

"Who?" She asked sharply, her tone cold and demanding. Natasha shot her a look for the way she spoke, but also turned to Steve, expecting an answer.

"His name's Sam. He's an ex-pararescue and he said that if I ever needed his help, to drop by."

"And you're sure he's not HYDRA?" Roxi continued with her questions, not entirely sure about this 'Sam' yet.

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't think he even knows who the are," Steve answered defensively. That helped a bit, and Roxi leaned back into the car seat, although her left fist was balled up.

"Well he will soon." She answered shortly, effectively ending the conversation. The next half an hour was filled with awkward silence, and even Steve turning the radio on didn't stop it from spreading out through the air like a blanket. Roxi hadn't bothered taking off her jacket or t-shirt yet, she'd rather do it privately, even just taking of her jacket. Steve finally parked on a side street, turning the radio off as he did so. She ended up just behind Natasha and Steve again, though she preferred that in some ways; for example, she didn't want them worrying about her burn, she didn't even know how bad it was. Steve knocked on the door of one of the houses, and a moment later, the wooden blind rolled up to reveal an African-American man, who looked to Roxi to be in his late 30s. He pulled aside the glass door, looking straight at Steve and the state of his soot-covered face.

"Hey, man," he said, sounding like he wanted an explanation.

"I'm sorry about this. We need a place to lay low," Steve explained, just as Roxi held in another cough. A jolt of pain -not too harsh- flashed through her for a moment, and she staggered slightly before planting her feet firmly as the conversation continued, earning a curious look from the man, who was apparently Sam.

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Natasha added lowly, looking dejected as her red hair hung limply down to her shoulders. Sam glanced between the three of them for a moment, before answering.

"Not everyone." He stepped aside, and the three trooped in tiredly. Before Steve even had the chance to, Roxi darted into the bathroom and shut the door. The first thing she did was take her coloured contacts out, and out them in their pot, which was in one of her pockets. Then, she washed her face carefully and slid her jacket off her shoulders, before leaning on the porcelain sink (which now had sooty hand prints on its edge) and letting out a sigh.

How had she gotten herself into this? She had been doing just fine. But she hadn't. Before Natasha had found her, she'd been getting lonely. Her nightmares had gotten worse, and she woke up almost every morning coated in sweat and with her blood running cold through her veins. She washed her face again and let out another cough, this one stronger. She had guessed on the journey that she'd taken too much smoke into her lungs. Roxi opened the bathroom door, with her jacket in one hand as she took in a deep breath and made her way towards the small side table next to the bed. Steve went in next, as she sat down next to Natasha on the bed. The redhead gave a slightly odd look, before glancing down at the jacket in her hands. Roxi held it up, showing the huge burnt off area in the bag, the weapons remaining the pockets weighing it down.

"My jacket's ruined," she supplied simply.

"Oh." Natasha's voice was softer than it'd normally be, and had a certain air of deflatedness to it.

"You okay?" Steve asked her from the bathroom.

"Yeah," She replied quickly, drying her hair. She'd had a quick shower in the guest bathroom while Roxi was cleaning herself up. The brunette sat on the bed, looking out the window, but listened closely to the conversation happening next to her.

"What's going on?" He asked. It took Natasha a moment to meet his eyes, in which she sent a quick side-glance over to the agent sitting on the bed a little way behind her. She'd rather talk to Ryder about this than Rogers.

"When I first joined S.H.I.E.L.D, I thought I was going straight. I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA." The redhead looked down at her lap, and as Roxi thought through her words, she felt an inexplicable need to comfort the assassin.

"I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but..." she trailed off, and Roxi clenched her fist so tightly that her skin went paper white.

"I guess I can't tell the difference anymore," Natasha admitted, looking up. Roxi wanted to say something, anything, but it was as if her brain had slammed on the brakes and all she could do in that moment was listen to the redhead.

"There's a chance you might be in the wrong business." Steve stated. Natasha gave a light scoff.

"I owe you," She replied, in little more than a whisper, her forest green eyes locked on him. Steve shook his head and denied

"Nah, it's okay."

"If it were the other way around," she began, her voice cracking slightly, "and if it were down to me to save your life.. Can you be honest with me?" The amount of emotion made Roxi want to go and give her a hug, but she felt it would be intrusive, so she stayed quiet, and listened.

"Would you trust me to do it?" There was a moment's silence before Steve answered, and for a split-second, Roxi was sure he'd answer 'no'.

"I would now," was the answer he settled for. The answer seemed to leave the redhead slightly taken aback, but then he continued.

"And I'm always honest."

"Well you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing." Roxi smiled at that, and she was pretty sure that even though she was behind Natasha, the redhead knew.

"Well, I guess I like to know who I'm fighting," Steve replied. Sam arrived just outside, but waited when he finally heard the mystery woman speak.

"Well, if you're in the wrong business," Roxi began, turning around to look at Natasha, whose dark green eyes met her icy blue ones, "then I definitely am." Steve shot her a confused look, and so did Natasha, though she had guessed mostly what Roxi had meant, because she'd seen Roxi's files at one point or another. She lowered her gaze to her lap and fiddled with the keyring again, which she'd pulled out of the pocket of her jacket.

"I was 17 when S.H.I.E.L.D took me in," she began, deciding to skip over the first part of her life, she wasn't confident (or trusting) enough to share that with anyone yet, "I grew up with these agents around me. If anyone should've known that half of them were HYDRA, it's me."

"You couldn't have known," Natasha reassured her softly, "especially when you work alone so much."

"Yeah, but I was there for 13 years. I should've noticed."

"Yeah, well, most of them weren't nice guys anyway," Steve assured her. Roxi sent him a slight smile, and Sam made his entrance.

"I made breakfast." All three of them immediately put their attention on the man.

"If you eat that sort of.. thing." He turned and left, leaving the three to finish their conversation.

"So, the question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D could launch a domestic missile strike," Natasha stated, returning to the rather grim topic of discussion. They all sat around and thought for a while before making their way into the kitchen for breakfast. Once they had finished, and they were all sitting around in a concentrated silence, Steve provided an answer.

"Pierce." Roxi had never met Alexander Pierce, but she had heard Fury and Hill discussing him throughout various points in time, and by the sounds of it, he certainly had the power to make such a move.

"Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world," Natasha added optimistically.

"He's not working alone, Zola's algorithm was on the Lemurian Star," Steve added.

"That's where you got it?" Roxi injected, although she was pretty much ignored. She'd been wondering where the drive came from since Natasha had called her.

"So was Jasper Sitwell," the redhead added after a second.

"There's always been something off about him," Roxi muttered under her breath. Steve looked up at Natasha after her comment with interest, Roxi following suit as the three began to work out what was going on.

"So the real question is, how do the three most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D officer in broad daylight."

"Two most wanted. They're not looking for me." Roxi added quickly, knowing that at some point, it could be helpful.

"The answer is, you don't," replied Sam, who walked forward with a beige file in his hand.

"What's this?" Steve asked, leaning forward to look at the file, which had a picture of two guys with military gear on on top.

"Call it a resume." Natasha picked up the file and Roxi stood next to her, not willing to try and peer over Steve's shoulder; she'd need a stepladder.

"Is this Bagmala?" The redhead asked, clearly recognising the mission.

"Khalid-khandil mission, that was you." Natasha followed up. The name rung a bell somewhere in the back of her mind, but Roxi couldn't quite figure out why.

"You didn't say he was a pararescue," the S.H.I.E.L.D agent accused.

"Actually he did," Roxi said quietly. Steve took the picture and looked at for a moment before turning his gaze back to Sam.

"Is this Riley?" Sam nodded, followed by a quiet

"Yeah."

"I heard they couldn't bring in the choppers 'caus of the RPGs'. What, did you use a stealth chute?" Natasha asked.

"No," Sam immediately denied, reaching for the rest of the file, which was back on the table, "I used these." Steve flipped open the file and stared down at its contents.

"i thought you said you were a pilot."

"I never said pilot."

"I can't ask you to do this," Steve denied, shaking his head, "you got out for a good reason."

"Dude, Captain America needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in," Sam protested firmly.

"Where can we get our hands on one of these things?" Steve asked, gesturing with the file. Roxi had managed to snag a quick look, and her lip had curled slightly as she smirked to herself.

"The last one is at Fort Meade, behind 3 guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall." Steve looked to Natasha, who simply shrugged, and then to Roxi, who answered with

"Doesn't sound like it'll be too difficult." Steve nodded at her.

"Shouldn't be a problem." He told Sam. He threw down the file with the code R-D-E-A-R-N, and the subject EXO-7. FALCON, and off they went.

{A/N:} Another chapter done! Thank you so much for your votes and comments and just taking your time to read this, it means so much. If I've made any mistakes or typos, feel free to point them out so I can fix them, and if you have any criticism, please let me know. I start school again on Monday, so I'll have less time to write, although I'm still hoping to get one chapter out a week (instead of two), so I thought I'd make sure that I update regularly so that you guys have more to read. I'm actually starting a new school, so I'm quite nervous. When do you go back to school? See you next time,

JabberJay11

2950 Words

Written: 31/08/2020

Published: 05/09/2020