04  x  mind over matter

-----

PRESENT DAY.

HYDRA Headquarters,

Swiss Alps, Europe

"Where is it, Nuke?"

A purveyor of hell. That's what he was. Horrors were less sanitised in his shadow, his darkness coming in the form of death, loss and twilight. He was dead the minute that dreaded substance had altered his system as if the heart had long perished and left this zombified spirit instead, a monstrosity to do the demand of the sinister authority.

Nuke bent his wrist to stop the oscillating, brown punching bag. With a tough swallow, he met the new face in the compound. He was like everyone else who wanted the serum; scumbag, gunman or delinquent. The transaction was simple - more the serum, more the capital. 

That was all his clients wanted after approving the magnitude of the serum's effect. He could only connect to the Winter Soldier. The legend, the ghost and the gem of Hydra. An unprogrammed, ritualistic, trained-for-combat specimen with a programmable toxin. No amount of money was worth a hard time and he could only incur from the greatest war heroes in the history of America.

"She escaped," Nuke said, directing another punch for the sack, the leathery jute puffing off fluffs into the air. It started to coat red. Not Nuke.

"Don't know, don't care. We had a deal," the man finished, grating. "The weapon or the serum."

Nuke halted in his motions. The muscles in his body tensed at the sound of the invoked name, his eyes shutting to restrain himself from a lashing. He concentrated on something else - the sound of water dripping far away, the soles scraping against the welting tiles, wild thrashing of his client's heart. The cellblock was so utterly silent, except the soft, mangled breathing the emanated from the brown bag that slunk midair.

"When will the weapon be ready?"

"Weapon X," Nuke worked out, his voice cut and provoked, "is not for sale."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Nuke."

"Look, man," Nuke bit out, spinning around to close in on the dealer. The man, in fear, backed away two steps as the bulky man moved to look him in the eye. "I said what I said. I do not repeat myself."

His dealer, obviously still greedy, did not back down at his perverse threat. His dark eyes continued to have a prod at Nuke and it irked him even more. 

"At least lemme see it."

"It's too fragile," Nuke said, his tone dreary. "Too... sensitive to foreign objects."

"I don't give a flying fuck, Nuke," the man sneered. "I want my money's worth. Or I'm taking this place down."

Nuke heard footsteps rustle from beyond the bars of the cell, past the dripping pipeline. He quickly counted twenty, at the least, in full ammo and aimed at bringing his fortress to the ground. He had worked too hard, conspired too hastily and killed too many to get here. If this bastard thinks a few guns and a shootout is going to knock him off his throne, he was wrong.

"Fine," Nuke agreed. 

"That's what I'm talking about," his client smirked, rubbing his hands together in excitement. 

"Follow me," he said quietly, leading his dealer out the prison. Not before cutting down the mangled sack of red that hung from the ceiling, a hard grunt eluting from it. The wet brick floor stained red with the impact and Nuke wiped his hands over his cargo pants.

"But if it kills you first, I won't stop it."

∞

Avengers Compound, 

Upstate New York.

A knock sounded on the door of the bedroom they had graciously imparted her to reside in during her temporary stay. Just as the silence was smoothing her soul and leaving her to her thoughts, she didn't feel like wanting company. Reluctantly, she allowed them to come in. It was Steve in all his righteous glory. 

"Doctor Foster."

"Steve," Etta felt the need to rise before addressing the captain. And she did, a thin smile drawing on her lips as she nodded at him. "Hourly monitoring on the captive?'

"Please, Etta. This isn't a mafia film," he said, amused. "It would be a sad one if it were."

"On the contrary, I would pay big bucks to watch it," she joked. 

He laughed and Etta drew in a quick breath when she heard it. It had been the first time she had heard him laugh, weird to hear a man she had never seen smile give off the salt. 

"I was just going to make myself some coffee," Steve started meekly, "and I was hoping for some company."

"Me?" Etta was genuinely shocked. "I couldn't possibly—"

"As a friend," he cleared.

"I know," she shook her head, forcing away an embarrassing blush. "I was surprised at your choice of fellowship."

When Steve took her cryptic statement as a yes, he led her out of the room and into the nearly empty compound in the estate. Etta had never seen the headquarters before, other than the holding room and the lab she had been stationed at. Some parts looked like home; with a living room, some furnished bedrooms and doors that opened into larger halls with panelled walls. They called those training rooms, she recalled a conversation from before, intrigued by the steel space and the circling rotors.

Upon reaching the state-of-the-art kitchen, Etta found herself sauntering past the marble floors and examining the ridiculous expensive furnishings quietly. She turned to Steve with a grin.

"This place is definitely an upgrade from the usual," she mused. A giant carving of a wooden nut sat beyond the kitchenette to the east. She really didn't know what to consider.

"Rhodey's a stickler about interior decor," Steve shared with a soft smile on his face. "He and Tony spared no expenses on that arena."

"I can see that," she muttered, her gaze pinned on the two large jars of assorted jelly beans beside the whirring coffee machine. Steve traced her attention line to the counter and laughing out loud. 

"That's all on the kid," he chuckled, referring to Margo. "She loves her candy."

"It's adorable," Etta commented, biting back a large smile. "But, growing up surrounded by superheroes doesn't exactly scream child-friendly to me."

"She's smarter than she looks," Steve shrugged. "More intelligent."

"I figured," she chuckled. "Surprised me. But I expected no less from Tony Stark's daughter. Or her mother."

"Elle's got a lot on her hands after Tony left," Steve informed quietly, watching the coffee machine whir with folded arms. He was defensive, Etta could tell, careful even. "The whole situation is overwhelming for her. Especially with Peggy and all."

"Peggy?"

Steve grinned. "It's what I call Margo."

"That's," she searched for a formal word, "endearing. But, it's a little risky if you ask me. Parental constraints in a figure who is looked up to save the world, I mean."

Steve passed her cup of piping coffee and took a seat opposite to her. "What's life without risks?"

"I don't know," Etta sighed, sipping the bitter beverage. The dark taste coloured her tastebuds, shaking her awake. "Still seems like the couple were taking their chances with all this."

"As far as I know," Steve replied thoughtfully, rolling a finger around the rim of the steaming cup, "Tony was the one who wanted to broaden his familial prospect."

Etta looked at him in disbelief. "Really?"

"I met Elle when she was conceived," he nodded in agreement. "I know when people are scared. She didn't look ready at all but I could understand, given the conditions."

"To be honest," she swallowed hard, not wanting to continue. But something about Steve made her want to open up. "Kabir and I—we went through the same thing."

"Having kids?" He asked, interested. 

"Family, in general," she corrected with a vague dread about what was to come. "Neither of us were ready. He was always flying out for missions and I was glued to my research. We didn't want to bring a child into our states."

"No compromises," Steve nodded, figuring it out. "I understand."

"No," Etta disagreed, "no, god no. I wanted to negotiate. I was prepared to let go of my work for a while and focus on us. Then uh, Kabir's health started to deteriorate."

"What did he have?" Steve tried, his voice painfully faint.

"ALS," she whispered. "It wasn't hereditary. His increased leisure time in the force was a factor. He had overworked himself hence, the condition."

"You diagnosed him?"

"None of the specialists was as concerned as I was," she scoffed, thinking back to the jarred state of physicians when she told them off about their reluctance to treat him. "I took matters into my own hands."

"It's criminal to test on individuals without aid, you know," he conveyed silently.

"He was dying," she urged, baring her teeth, "and no one cared. No one cared enough to treat him but me. I was so close, Steve," she choked out, "I was so close to curing him."

He pressed his lips together in a grim line. He wanted to say something to comfort her but at that moment, it didn't seem right.

"It doesn't matter now," she shook her head, pushing the cup away experiencing a loss of appetite. "It's over."

"They'll come for you," he added after a small beat of silence. "What then?"

"I'll have to destroy the serum," she murmured solemnly. "What was the point in producing it if it didn't help the one person I wanted to help?"

Steve admired that trait in her. Ready to put aside her days of tiresome work to figure out this cursed toxin and without a thought, she was willing to destroy it. Only the toughest could let go easily and Etta was one of them.

It was now or never, he decided. Without halting for a moment, he cut to the chase. Little did he know about the landslide of chaos he was about to awaken.

"Etta," he started, "remember, we're on the same side here."

She nodded with her attention elsewhere.

"I want to know what exactly happened the night Kabir died," he breathed out finally. Etta's gaze snapped to his like a deer in the headlights, her lips parting in a sharp exhale. "I know it's hard to talk but—"

"I can't," she sniffed, her face screwed in grief. It surged and expelled out her system with her every breath. "I'm sorry, the files and documents should help with that."

"Better if it came from you," he tried softly. "I need to know what I'm dealing with here."

Etta knew what he was aiming for. Tony Stark funded this place with tech she could never imagine and some of those would be able to poke at her worst nightmares. For months, she had forcefully bolted down her emotions focusing on the betterment of herself and those around her. Whatever needles or machines they were going to put into her to reflect her past, she was not ready for it.

"I don't want to go through that again," she muttered, her voice almost ending in a pleading. "Please, don't make me do this."

"I'm gonna have to," he shook his head, firm in his decision. 

Hopefully, to comfort her, he reached out to place his hand over her fisted ones. He felt it relax under his touch, her fearful dark eyes looking up to meet his azure ones. They clashed against one another until Steve broke the silence.

"And you're gonna have to say yes."

∞

( Binarily Augment Retro-Framing, BARF, recounting from Colette Foster's mind. )

SIX MONTHS AGO.

Manhattan, New York

The stars in the sky were nonexistent, as between them lifted winds of grey. The glory of the full moon was concealed behind the blanketed sky and furnishing the entire city in a slothful, ominous feel. There was no twilight, Etta realized, only duskiness. 

From where she stood in the seventh story apartment balcony, she basked in the negative form of a daytime beauty. A load had been lifted off her shoulders; the serum nearly perfected and totally ensured. She had snatched one from the last two that would be administered to Kabir and when she had arrived home, she had done just that. 

The improvements in him were exceptional. His motor control was regained and he wasn't feeling as doozy as he usually did on some occasions. He was smiling, there was a hope in his eyes and nothing made Etta happier. He had started to do short bodybuilding how much ever it irked her, waving her off when she admonished him.

Consequently, Kabir's stamina had increased ten-fold. His strength was more robust, thinking back to how he had almost broken a mug from mere terror. There were simple things around the house she would realize, like when he had split the buttons on the remote because of pressing down too hard. 

Etta looked down at her hands that had been white-knuckling the entire time, releasing her hold softly. Two hands braced on either side of her body and instant warmth swaddling her. She felt her back smooth against his front, laying both her palms over his large ones.

"So what are we overthinking about tonight, Mrs Sinha?" He hummed into her neck, placing a soft kiss over the supple skin. 

"Us," she answered simply, turning around to face him. "In retrospect, I actually have fantastic news."

"My prayers have been answered, all thanks to my blue buddy up there," he said in relief, kissing his index finger and pointing to the sky. Being a Hindu, his belief was in the Almighty being Shiva, who he quoted on a daily basis. She thought it was endearing, sometimes curious to know about the legends they believed.

Kabir shifted her waist as if assessing something, adding to Etta's confusion. "So, how far in are you? I can't see any—"

"Kubs!" She couldn't help but laugh, smacking his chest. 

"Oh," his glistening lip jutted out in dismay, "no baby?"

"Not yet," she said, stifling laughter. "It's something along those lines."

"Now we're talking," he grinned. "What is it?"

"I booked us two tickets to India," she clapped her hands in elation, "we're leaving next week, right after you get the last dosage."

"Wait, Goa?"

"Yes," she smiled wider. "Kabir, come on."

There was a gratifying moment when Kabir's dark face washed blank with confusion like his mind gears couldn't turn nimble enough to take in the information from his wide eyes. Every fibre of his body stiffened before a smile crept onto his face, it soon stretched from one side to the other displaying every tooth.

"Are you—you're not joking, are you?"

"No," she laughed, "it's a one-way pass. We'll stay as long as you like. Parent's place, your place, a resort; it's your call."

His sea-green eyes were dim when they fell on hers. She would know that look anywhere; the one that said that he wouldn't want to be a burden. 

"Col, I—"

"Hey," she placed her hands on either side of his face, "both of us need this. Take it slow and maybe, start a family?"

"Oh my god," he shook his head with a laugh, a smooth curl falling over his forehead. 

"Mhmm?" She bit her lip softly.

"A little girl with your eyes,' he smiled, watching her dark ones smoulder lightly. It turned to a hard stare when he continued to speak. "I hate mine—people always stare too long. Creeps me out."

"But, mine is so plain," she scrunched her nose, "don't you want exotic babies?"

"We are literally ethnic propaganda, Col," he pointed out. "I don't think we can get more exotic."

She laughed, standing over his feet to press her forehead against his. His calloused hand wrapped around her slender one, lifting it midair as if inviting her to soundless dance. He moved his foot to sway them slowly, taking a soft inhale into her hair.

"Whatever it is, you're gonna love the kid, right?"

"Absolutely," he answered airily. "You know me."

"I'll still be your jaan?"

He laughed into her neck at her coy wish. "Always."

The breeze caressed their skin as they continued to move softly. Etta had never felt so relaxed, the satisfaction of fitting the right puzzle pieces and gazing at the completeness. She brushed a hand into his hair, feeling the strands braid themselves against her fingers. She wanted to change nothing about this moment. Stay here for another hour too, she wouldn't object.

The sudden scuttles of footsteps raised hairs on her arms. Kabir, trained to stay vigilant, moved with stealth and pushing both of them away from the balcony. His arms stayed around Etta all the while, keeping her behind his back at all times.

"Kubs," she tried to whisper, "what—"

"Who did you tell?" He hissed at her. "About the serum?"

"No one, I swear," she hissed back, indifferent. 

Both their eyes widened in awareness of their past actions, spelling out in unison. Kabir looked outraged, his face screwing up with tension and cursing brutally under his breath. In sudden realization, his hand reached beyond her thing to reach for a gun that had been secured under the coffee table and cocking it awake. 

Etta gave out a trembling gasp, backing into the wall near the balcony, fearing for both their lives. His light eyes found her afraid ones, watching as she drew her hands to her mouth to stifle a cry. Her cocoa eyes swam with unshed tears, making him smother a slow gulp of dread. Before Etta could collapse into the safety of his arms once again, she caught a dire shift in the dark green of his eyes. They were racing in hysteria, little did she know they were tended for keeping her safe and away from the conflict.

"Get down," he told her, extending his hand for her to take. She took it swiftly, following his request when he mirrored her actions. They were hunched into each other, retreating away from the balcony view.

"Surrounded," he glanced furtively from a peek above the sofa, "outside and through the deck."

Etta was quick to reach behind her back to yank out her phone. For an option out. Before she could call for help, the bullets were fired and everything she had tried to save was lost.

∞

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