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. ** .

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18 days.

I've been sitting in this park for two and a half weeks.

There hadn't been a whisper of the target. The information said that she would show. It said that it'd be rare. But that she would definitely show.

I could feel myself doubting the information I found. It was irking.

Then, there was the young woman. Munching hungrily on a pork sandwich. Practically inhaling it. As if she hadn't eaten in days.

She'd pop into the park every other day. There'd be a small greeting from her. She'd ask what I wanted. A shrug was always my response. She'd return the gesture, skipping away.

Five meals she'd bought for me now.

It was no longer just her routine. It was becoming ours.

It was nice.

The silent meals. The small exchange of words. It gave me hope. That I could do this. That I could overcome this. Whatever that was done to me. For what I've found out to be decades.

They had me for 70 years.

"That hit the spot," the young woman laughed. Sitting back against the bench. Tossing the balled up wad of paper and sauce right next to the trashcan. Her lips pursed into a frown. Long legs kicked out to bring her onto her feet. "Damn. You're better at this."

A small game between us.

I had never missed the can. A simple shot. Helped that I was closer than she was.

Her dainty finger snatched up the wrapper. Only to miss again. "Oh come on! I'm right next to the fffff...ish...?" Her voice faded.

Her eyes followed a pint-sized blond child racing past her. Gray eyes rolled. Slim shoulders sagged. She picked up her garbage once more. Properly disposed of it with a hand on her hip.

"You look exhausted, Buddy. Have you been sleeping well?"

I shrugged.

I haven't.

The nightmares. The faces. Faces that were familiar. Faces that were splattered with blood. Faces frozen in horror. The faces of the dead I left in my wake.

A question passed over her features, but she shook her head.

That was when I noticed it. Something over her shoulder. The little blond boy who had cut off her words. He was running up to a black SUV with a blonde woman seated inside.

I shot up onto my feet.

But the door had closed. The car was driving away.

I couldn't chase after it. Not without raising questions from strangers. I haven't seen people run that fast. Not since the man on the Helicarrier. I doubt most people could run that fast.

Then there was the weapon fused to my shoulder. The damage done to it. The pain would only hinder me. If only it could heal. Like my once dislocated shoulder.

The blonde woman. It could have been her. She could have been the target.

A barely familiar feeling of lightness invaded my chest. Hope. There was still hope. Hope that I could be free.

That she actually came to this park. Just as the information said. That I wasn't wasting time.

"What's wrong?" The young woman whirled around. Scanning the surroundings. Seemingly systematically. Her head tilting to the side.

Doubtful she would find anything. She didn't even know what I was waiting for.

She turned back to me. A brow raised in question.

I shook my head. Eased back down onto the bench. Spend a bit of time here. Sort out my thoughts. Before heading back to the shelter to clean off the day's grime.

With a shrug, she dismissed the whole incident. "Alright. I'll try not to be so late next time." She laughed rather nervously. Glancing at the now closed food truck. Packing away for the night. "See you around, Stranger."

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. ** .

.

'This has become a routine,' I couldn't help but think.

The scrunched up ball of paper flew from my fingers and straight into the garbage can.

It's been another week.

Of waiting for the target. Of eating sandwiches. Of watching the park goers.

My eyes chased every blond boy. But they've settled on one. One that came almost every day. Between 1536 and 1721.

The blonde woman wasn't with him. He was accompanied by a darker skinned one with black hair. Always following the boy. Chiding him when he fell. Bandaging up the knee with care.

I doubt that woman was his mother.

"How the hell are you not boiling under all that?" questioned the young woman next to me. Her back twitched. "I'm feeling cooked just looking at you."

She wasn't too off. It was sweltering. The sun beating down on everything. But I needed the layers. There was no other way to hide the arm. It would give me away. So I was stuck in the heat. Bearable compared to the cold. The snow. The ice.

"What else do you eat?" I tried warily. Working the rarely used muscle of my voice. She hadn't yet lashed out when I spoke. Not yet.

"Uhh... well... once in a while, I'd have a proper meal at a restaurant...? But usually, it's all the unhealthy stuff you can think of. Mostly fries and donuts. Junk food."

"Donuts?" I repeated.

It sounded almost familiar. But what memories I could have had of it... it was easier to catch smoke.

"Diabetes in the form of a round bun with a hole in the middle? Donuts." Her grin grew wider and wider. "I'll bring some next time. How's your sweet tooth, Buddy?"

I shrugged.

I never knew how to answer her questions. It felt as nice as it did frustrating when she asked. To have my opinions considered.

But I didn't have any.

I didn't know what I liked. I didn't know what I wanted. I barely even knew how to make a choice.

I left it to her to make it for me. Though she left it to a coin. Flipping one before she ordered as of late.

She had taken the fish taco off the list she'd ask me. I was glad that she no longer considered that as an option. I preferred the other two. I still shrugged every time.

The woman tossed her wrapper. It went in this time. With no fuss. She pulled out the little black device. Her eyes widened. She was on her feet in a second. "Shit. Why is this a dead zone in the middle of a bloody city? I got to go, Stranger. Donuts next time," she spewed out. Half running away.

A calm tune started emitting from her. A device flew from her grip with a yelp. She tried to catch it. She pivoted on the ball of her foot. Caught it against her calf. Her finger slid across the surface and brought it up to her ear like I have seen others do.

"...Hello...?"

Her shoulders were tense. Her body curled into itself. Standing stock still. She was scared. She flinched away from the device. The other hand came up to rub at her ear. She stared at it with slight horror.

I could make out some soft screaming coming from the device. The words too blurred to make out.

That was unusual for her. The easy happy bounce in her step, gone.

'What's happening?'

She even stopped walking.

A deep breath in and she pressed the device to her ear again. "Yup. Yup. I'm listening.... He's not budging.... He doesn't want money. What am I supposed to do?"

Her hip jutted out to the side. Her free arm wrapped around her midsection. Irritation clear in her body language.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll try to figure something out.... 'Kay, 'kay. I will figure something out. I still have two weeks before he leaves D.C...."

Again, she flinched away from the device. A scowl on her face. She shoved it into her back pocket and pulled out something small, inserting it into her ear.

"Eve?" she called out softly. She continued on her way out of the park. "Could you gather everything on Wegner? His work. Projects. Family. Anything. Everything.... I hope it works out. I hate doing this.... Hmph. Everybody has a price.... 'Kay, thanks."

With that, she turned the corner. Out of sight. Voice fading out of earshot.

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. ** .

.

I couldn't believe my luck.

Three and a half weeks of waiting.

24 days.

And here she was. The target. With the boy. The very blond boy I've been watching the past week. Had to be her son.

Though their eyes were of different colors. Hers were green. His were blue.

With her entrance, the woman had brought five other bodies into the area. She sat down on a bench by the playground. One of the men with her opened a briefcase. Handing her papers. She wasn't going anywhere soon.

I took the time to watch the other four men of hers. They were Hydra. She worked for Hydra. They had to be Hydra. Her bodyguards.

The information was correct. She was someone. Someone of importance to them. Someone worth protecting.

One was a trained agent. With the way he held himself. Eyed the surroundings. It was clear he was an agent... and a familiar face.

Dread winding its way into me. I wasn't going back there. I couldn't go back there.

Not when I was free. Finally, free.

But that wasn't true. I never could be truly free.

Learned that the night I came to in the abandoned bank vault. And before that, when they were abandoning it. When I only spared one of them.

They've done something to me. If I slip, I'd walk right back into their hands. I'd disappear again. I had to figure a way out. I needed a way to get them out of my head.

I want to be free.

My teeth ground in frustration.

I had to stay hidden. Forced myself to stand. Every step felt like fire eating away at me.

That woman. She could have answers. That's what the information said. It's why I've been waiting in the park.

But if I was recognized... I'd be finished. This would be over.

I'd be running from the authorities. From them. Hydra. The target would change parks. This wouldn't be safe for her to go to. Not if they knew I was here. Waiting. Watching.

I had to trust the information.

That she'd come back again. A third time.

The target would come back.

She had to.

Hopefully with other men. Men that I haven't seen before.

But that wouldn't put me at ease. I had no way of knowing that they wouldn't know my face. The world knew my face. Plastered in museums.

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. ** .

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Author's Note:

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