Chapter 1

AMERICA'S POV

"Mer. Mer. Mer!" Steve's voice drags me from sleep. I bury myself further under the sheets. It's way too early for anything.

"Stop shaking me," I mumble. He pulls the covers off, and I immediately yank one back over myself. He just rolls his eyes at my reaction.

"Come on, you need to get dressed. Someone tipped them off that we're here."

My eyes widen. "Okay." I quickly pull on jeans and a sweatshirt, then grab the bag I pack every night for moments like these. "Okay, I'm ready."

Steve and I jog out into the kitchen. Sam instantly hands us train tickets while pulling a shirt on. This has kind of become second nature for all of us. "Train leaves in twenty minutes. Nat, you ready?"

"Hold on," She mumbles, sifting through her ever-growing collection of fake passports with a discerning gaze. "Here, four for the Netherlands, in case we need them. Don't give names, don't act suspicious."

"Great. Let's get moving." I snag a baseball cap and my glove as we leave the motel room. Shame. I like this one.

We travel down the streets of Belgium as quickly as we can without seeming suspicious. Steve takes my hand, and I keep my head down. We weave through the crowded sidewalks until we reach the train station, where we run up to the man collecting tickets one minute to departure. As I step on, I hear something that chills me to the bone.

"Rogers!" The man who yelled chases someone in the other direction, but he still knows we're nearby.

"Get on, get on," Steve hisses from behind me, pushing me forward, refusing to look back. We slump into the first empty seats just as the train pulls away from the station. We made it.

"Where's Sam and Nat?"

"They went ahead and got other seats."

I take his hand with my real one. "That was close. And kind of scary."

"Yeah. He didn't see us." He exhales, shaking his head. His blue eyes are worried. It's an expression I don't like on him, but one that frequents. "This was unexpected. We weren't careful enough."

"It's not our fault," I say comfortingly. "We've been doing this for over two years and things don't always work out. You know that."

"We must have made a mistake," he insists.

"No, our luck ran out. It happens."

"I don't know if luck is a word I'd associate with us, honey."

"I would." I take both of his hands and look earnestly into his blue eyes. "We escaped. We have friends. We have each other." I shrug, a small smile on my lips. "Who could ask for anything more?"

Steve shakes his head, the smile spreading to him. "You're my rock, Mer. I hope you know that."

"I do. And I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, so we're still on solid footing. We're safe." I kiss him, melting into his embrace. He runs a hand down my cheek, but both of us know where and who we are. We can't get carried away. Regretfully, I scooch away from him a few inches.

"I'm sorry I had to wake you up," he says. "You didn't have any nightmares last night."

"No. I had a dream, though. It was a memory, I think. From when we were kids. Christmas morning in Sokovia." My thoughts drift away from the train to Edinburgh with Wanda, and New York with Pietro. I see Wanda every few months or so, but I haven't seen my brother for more than two years now. We never made up after the Accords. "I miss them."

"I know. Sometimes I feel bad that you got dragged into all of this."

"Dragged?" I sit up and face him. "Steve, you're the reason I'm not locked up in an institution with Ross breathing down my neck. Stop blaming and beating yourself up."

"You're right. Of course you're right." He sighs. "I just don't know how much longer we can run."

"We'll run as long as we can. Keep each other safe as long as we can." I chose to change the subject. The current one's getting a bit too depressing for my taste. "Where are we going again?"

Steve checks the tickets. "Holland. The Netherlands. New month, new place. Typical."

It's true. At least once a month, we move countries. Usually, it's exciting for me, but at his words, a sick feeling fills my stomach. "It's... it's September?"

"Yeah. The first. Why?"

I quickly shake my head. "Um, no reason. It just surprised me. I guess time really flies."

"I know what you mean. You look exhausted, doll. Go back to sleep, we might be on the train for a while. I have no idea how long the ride is." He smiles softly, and I sidle up close to him.

"Okay. Thanks." I close my eyes and try to forget about last September.

———

"Right up here," Nat says, pointing to a dingy motel on the side of the road. In the distance, the sun sinks low in the sky, painting it a dusky purple and pink. "You guys stay here. I'll do the talking."

"Like usual," I supply needlessly. Natasha's a master at putting on different personas, which is key in our situation. The three of us wait outside as she heads in. As always, I hold my breath a bit. There have been days when we've been recognized. If they know her, we're all going to have to book it to the next country. Thankfully, today is not one of those days. She emerges minutes later, jingling a set of keys between her fingers.

"And that, lady and gentlemen, is how you do it."

"Who were you today?" I ask curiously. Nat leads us down a path to a small brown brick of a motel house.

"Miss Emily Jane Cooper," she replies in a heavy British accent. "Staying in Holland with my dear friends who traveled all the way from London to sightsee."

Sam laughs. "Two years and you've still got it. I'm impressed."

"London?" Steve asks, amused. "Are we going to have afternoon tea?"

"The tea's all yours, old man. I'm finding a beer."

"Nat," I say, "don't go making fun of Steve because he likes tea. It's the most popular drink at his bingo night."

"All right, I think that's enough with the age jokes for today," Steve says. He rolls his eyes.

"Aw, Cap, we were just getting warmed up!" Nat says as she unlocks the door. "Welcome to the new palace."

Inside, it's standard. No better or worse than the average cheap motel room, and we've truly experienced enough to know. In the main room is a pullout couch, a TV, and a kitchenette. Two bedrooms branch out. That's about it. Nat and Sam do the traditional coin toss for bedroom number two, with Sam winning big tonight. That's a pro to being married in our little crew. After a quick meal, we all call it a night and head our separate ways. I quickly rinse off and slip into an oversized t-shirt before letting Steve have a turn in the bathroom.

While Steve showers, I hum showtunes quietly to myself and flip through a book I have no real interest in. It's still strange for me to look at my metal hand. Unlike Anna assured me, I never got used to it. I wear a glove in public at all times, and mostly through the day, too. I don't know why. It's irrational. The hand is part of me. I just can't help it. My thoughts stray to more depressing matters as I close my eyes.

I can't believe it's been a year.

I had almost managed to forget.

There's no way I could. We've just been so busy, it slipped. But now, the memories come back painfully, memories I hide, just like my tears. Steve can't know. He would never forgive me, especially because I never told him. It's all on me.

Only one person in the world besides me knows what happened, and it isn't my husband.

"Doll, are you okay?" Steve puts a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I cover his with mine. "You look pale. Like you've seen a ghost."

I shake my head. "I'm tired is all. A lot happened today. That's it."

"Let's just go to bed, then. We can talk in the morning. To be honest, I'm exhausted, too." He switches the light off and I crawl into bed, pressing my body against his for comfort. "Love you, Mer."

"I love you too." His strong arms hold me tightly, like he knows I need it.

"It's going to be okay someday," he whispers in the dark. "We have to believe that."

I wonder if he'd still love me if he knew.

Hey! Welcome to the book, leave your thoughts/predictions/whatever!