[ WWII AU ] a ghost story

[from_the_outside]

It's been almost two years since she's been home, and little by little, the grief has gotten easier to live with.

It hasn't gone away. But she's able to focus on her job, watch movies, chat with friends, sleep most nights. She still dreams about him, but the dreams are tinged with wistful longing and only sometimes does she wake up with tears on her cheeks. She can't have his picture out in this apartment, Kate's apartment, but it's safe in the mountain house, along with his last letter to her, and she has a scan on her phone to look at when the long day is over and she's in bed, the stars from the lamp he'd given her filling her dark room.

Steve has helped, more than she could ever explain, and she hopes she's helped him in return. Aside from a few deeply classified missions here and there, they haven't worked together all that much, but she still sees him almost every day. In the halls, she's undercover as his mild-mannered neighbor, Kate, but in her secure apartment they can talk over anything, everything.

And it works. Every day is a little easier. They lean on each other when they need to, and they spend hours remembering and reminiscing about Bucky, talking shop, chatting about how Steve's fitting into the future. It's nice. She still misses Bucky, an ache that never really goes away, but they can both breathe through it, work through it, live through it.

She's on her way up from the basement laundry machines when she hears a familiar step in the hall, and has to smile to herself – first her own, then Kate's sweeter, more open one. "Hey, neighbor."

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[nerves_of_ice]

She doesn't seem to be able to sit still. The only problem that presents is if she notices his presence before he makes his way inside, and that's not much of a problem. But since it'll make things more convenient if he has full access to the apartment for a time, he moves as silently as he can until he's balanced on the narrow ledge outside her bedroom window.

He doesn't see any of the signs that would signal an advanced security system, and thus doesn't hesitate to pull the window open and drop to the floor inside.

[from_the_outside]

In the living room, she flips the tv on to a news channel, scanning the chyrons like she's scanning social media for any hint either that Steve and Nat have been spotted or that they've been engaged.

There's nothing. And there's nothing from SHIELD, either; just a series of check-ins, each of which says the same thing: no contact made.

[nerves_of_ice]

The television comes on in the other room. Good. It will mask any sounds he makes and distract her.

Silently, he stalks along the wall to the bedroom door and waits there, listening, before he moves into the hallway and toward the living room. He waits just outside it for a moment, trying to determine from shadows and sounds and shapes against the light where she is in the room, then breaks from cover and surges into the room and straight toward her, left hand raised.

[from_the_outside]

There's no warning. All of a sudden, a shadow detaches from her hallway entry and charges her like a nightmare made solid.

She acts on instinct. Her Kahr is snug at the small of her back; she reaches for it even as she throws herself at an angle across the room, trying to give herself some space. She squeezes the trigger; once, twice. The Kahr barks in the small space.

Anyone else, she'd have hit twice, center mass. But he's so damn fast, faster than anyone she's ever seen.

[nerves_of_ice]

He deflects both shots with his left hand, ignoring the ricochet, and is on her in the next moment. The Winter Soldier strikes hard toward her gut with his right hand, aiming to rob her of breath and resistance both, and slaps the weapon away with his left.

[from_the_outside]

He hits her like a runaway truck, and in the next second she's doubled over, gasping, the Kahr skittering away from her across the floor.

Down, but not out. She twists and strikes up with the heel of her hand, aiming for his throat, then allows her body to continue the twist so she can slam her elbow in toward his solar plexus. He's wearing body armor, she realizes, and he's taller, heavier, faster, stronger.

But she fights back. It's the only thing she knows how to do.

[nerves_of_ice]

She's trained, and skilled, and brave. None of it matters, or not enough to overcome his mission goals.

He takes the blow to his middle with barely a breath, countering with a shift of his leg behind hers as he body-slams her off balance and follows her down with a shoulder strike to pin her flat to the floor.

[from_the_outside]

She hits the floor hard and instantly attempts to tie him up with her legs, but all the tricks she knows for getting a larger, heavier opponent to shift his weight enough for her to gain the advantage don't seem to work with him.

But she tries, struggling even as he pins her down, her eyes flashing fury and defiance until she manages to slip a knee between her belly and his and pushes up hard and fast, her other leg coming up to wrap around his neck as soon as she has enough space to move.

[nerves_of_ice]

Her intent is clear, but before she can choke him he slips the lock with his left arm and flips her to the side, then lands his full weight on her to pin her for the seconds he needs.

The blow has to be carefully calculated to avoid breaking her neck or smashing her skull. He aims it with precision and smashes the heel of his right hand into her temple.

[from_the_outside]

He slips her holds and smashes her back to the floor – damn – and she bares her teeth at him like a cat –

– and then his hand comes down, and everything flashes white, then fades into a sudden blackness as Sharon slumps, unconscious on the floor of her own apartment.

[nerves_of_ice]

She goes limp under him, but he waits for a full minute before moving, paying attention to her breathing and any tension in her posture to make sure she's not pretending.

Once he's certain that she's not, he goes back to the bedroom window and retrieves the small package he'd left there. The Winter Soldier carries it back into the living room and goes to work.

He searches her impersonally but thoroughly, relieving her of any and all weapons and her phone, which he sets aside for later. Once he's certain she's not carrying anything she could use to escape, he sets about securing her with rope and tape - tying her at her ankles and knees, then her wrists behind her and her elbows as well, and finally fastening a strip of duct tape over her mouth.

The Winter Soldier leaves her lying on the floor for now and examines her phone. He uses it to take a picture of her, one that clearly shows her face, then studies the call history. Some of the numbers are labeled; at least one isn't, with its most recent inbound call earlier in the afternoon. He sends a single text.

call me, urgent

[from_the_outside]

She wakes up to a throbbing ache in her temple and to the realization that she can't move. Or speak.

But she's alive, and that means something.

Sharon carefully tests her bonds, unwilling to start sunfishing and give him a reason to knock her out again, but he's wrapped her up tight, the man now standing in her apartment, his metal arm gleaming.

They call him the Winter Soldier. An assassin who's killed dozens of people over the last five decades. But he hasn't killed her, or even hurt her all that much. Everything he did, he did to subdue. She might have a minor concussion, and she's sore and bruised, but if she could get up right now she'd able to fight, to run.

But she can't, so she watches him, instead. He wears a mask over the lower half of his face and his long hair covers his eyes. He moves like a panther, like a wolf: an apex predator, here in her apartment.

And he has her phone.

[nerves_of_ice]

He studies the phone, wondering if it's the right number, and if it is, whether the targets will take the bait. If it's not, or if they don't, he has fallback options, but things will get messy quickly and time is of the essence. Not only because of the deadline Command gave him, but because of the timing of the launch.

He glances over to check his prisoner's status and realizes she's awake and watching him. Phone in hand, the Winter Soldier goes down on one knee in front of her, examining her carefully to make sure she's secure before he meets her furious gaze.

He reaches out to touch the edge of the duct tape over her mouth, his metal fingers cold against her face. "Scream and die," he warns, harsh and flat. "понимаете?"

[from_the_outside]

She glares at him, meeting his flat stare with her own murderous one. This close, with the lights of her living room still on, she can see him more clearly, and she notes without realizing it that his eyes are a particular shade of slate blue.

His voice is low and devoid of emotion. Something twinges in her mind, hearing it, like a word on the tip of her tongue, but she's never seen him before, never heard him before. If he sounds like someone she's spoken to once, it doesn't mean anything here.

Tightly, she nods. No screaming.

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods back, grasps the corner of the tape, and rips it free. The Winter Soldier drops it to the floor beside her and studies the phone again. No new messages, not yet.

She doesn't strictly need to be able to speak to accomplish his goal, but it's a simpler option with less evidence that could be used to mount a response if he's wrong about the number.

[from_the_outside]

She winces as he rips the tape off her mouth, but doesn't scream. Instead, she focuses on him as she carefully, slowly, works her wrists, trying to loosen the ties around them.

He must know she's in touch with Steve. It's the only reason she can think of that she's still alive. "He'll see through you," she bluffs, watching as he studies her phone. "It won't work."

[nerves_of_ice]

He doesn't bother responding to her bluster. It doesn't matter; if it doesn't work, he'll approach a different way. But she has confirmed the contact, which is useful in its own right.

The phone shivers in his hand, the number he'd texted calling her back, and he turns it so she can see the display. The Winter Soldier presses the button for speaker so she can see it and listens in silence as a man on the other end speaks.

"Sharon? What's going on? Are you all right?"

[from_the_outside]

She stares daggers at the Winter Soldier, but injects warmth into her voice. "I'm okay."

If he thinks she'll act the damsel in distress and draw Steve back here to save her, he's dead wrong. "I just needed to tell you the search is ramping up. Whatever you do, stay out of the city."

[nerves_of_ice]

"That probably means they know we dodged the missile," a different voice says. She sounds wry. "Don't worry, we're fine, that shield's great protection."

The Winter Soldier makes note that the shield in question's stronger than he'd realized as the male target speaks again. "Listen, I think I've got a place for us to hole up. I'll text you the address; we can meet there, plan our next steps."

Satisfaction uncoils deep within him. That'll make everything very simple indeed.

[from_the_outside]

"No," she says, hauling ruthlessly back on her voice to keep from leaping on the idea and tearing it to shreds.

Missile. She can't think about it yet. "I don't know how secure this number still is. And if I'm compromised, I don't want to be able to tell anyone where you are."

[nerves_of_ice]

The Winter Soldier gives her a flat look and turns the phone to examine the controls as the female target says, "She's got a point. Sharon, do you have a burner?"

He presses the icon for a video call. The camera shows a flash of his own masked face, his empty gaze, before he holds it up and turns it to show the prisoner instead.

A harsh gasp echoes across the air. "Sharon!"

[from_the_outside]

In this moment, the thing that floods through her isn't fear; it's exasperation. "Crap."

She glares over the phone at the Soldier, then focuses on the camera and puts as much reassurance into her voice as possible. "Do not come for me," she orders. "Stay away, Steve, I mean it. No matter what happens."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You know I can't do that. And so does he." The target's voice is steady; admirable, the Winter Soldier thinks. He's weighed up the implications and chosen to face them.

In the background, the other target bursts into a flurry of Russian, telling him that Sharon's not his target, there's no reason to hurt her any more than he already has, that they can come to some arrangement. He ignores it.

He holds the phone steady so the target can see her, moving around a little so that the extent of her bindings is clear before he speaks. "I'll text a location. If you want her to live, come there."

[from_the_outside]

He'll come, of course he'll come, because he's Steve and because he's her friend and because all those months ago he'd said you watch my back and I'll watch yours, how's that? and he'd meant it. "Rome," she says, desperation slipping into her voice.

Natasha is her good friend and Natasha is her colleague and Natasha knows that sometimes, there isn't a happy ending. She knows that sometimes, you have to make sacrifices. "Natasha, keep him away. Keep him away. Don't come. Do anything you have to do, but keep him away."

[nerves_of_ice]

"If you want her to live," he says again. "Comply."

He disconnects the call without waiting for an answer and sticks her phone in his pants pocket, then considers her.