08 ╸on your left

IT WAS EARLY morning in Washington D.C., a dark-skinned man doing his daily run around the Washington Monument, the beautiful purple, blue and pink sky shining down on him and the water glistened with its rich colors. Steve runs up beside him, running faster than the man was. "On your left," he says as he passes him, the strange man's head following him. Sam, the stranger, was now on the other side of the Monument, by the Lincoln Memorial, when Steve is right behind him. "On your left," Steve passes him.

"Uh-huh, on my left, got it," Sam replies. By a large marble building, Sam was running around another side, Steve right behind him, footsteps lighter and faster. "Don't say it. Don't you say it."

"On your left," Steve says again.

"Come on!" Sam groans. He stops gradually as soon as he commences defeat. He was sitting down by a tree, hand on his stomach, sweat lining the edges of his sweatshirt when he hears a voice above him. "Need a medic?" It was Steve, being a bit cocky. "I need a new set of lungs," he replies, staring up at the tall blonde man. "Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes."

"Guess I got a late start," Steve shrugs, looking around with his azure eyes, chest heaving. "Huh, really?" Sam chuckles. "You should be ashamed of yourself. You should take another lap. Did you just take it? I assume you just took it."

"What unit were you with?" Steve notices the Military emblem on Sam's sweater. "58th Pararescue," he answers. "But now I'm working down at the VA." He points over his shoulder. "Sam Wilson." He puts his hand up, Steve grabbing onto it and pulling him up, "Steve Rogers."

"I kind of put that together," Sam responds. "Must've freaked you out, coming home after the whole 'defrosting' thing."

"Takes some getting used to," Steve says with a sigh. "But I had Diana there and it was all good."

"Diana? Is she an old friend?"

"Yeah, we both fought in World War II together. I'm glad she's still alive," Steve shrugs. "It's good to meet you, Sam." Steve goes to walk away, but Sam follows him a little. "It's your bed, right?" Steve turns around, "What's that?" "Your bed, it's too soft," Sam explains. "When I was over there, I'd sleep on the ground, use rocks for pillows, like a caveman. Now I'm home, lying in my bed, and it's like ―"

"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve adds. "Feel like I'm going to sink right to the floor. Diana has told me to get one of those Tempur-Pedic beds where you can adjust the bed comfort level, but I don't think I would know how to use it. How long?"

"Two tours," Sam answers, nodding his head to the ground, Steve staring him in the eyes as he had been taught to as a kid. "You must miss the good old days, huh?" "Well," Steve shrugs again, "things aren't so bad. Food's a lot better; we used to boil everything. No polio's good, internet ― so helpful. Been reading that a lot, trying to catch up." Sam gets a suggestion, "Marvin Gaye. 1972. Troubleman soundtrack. Everything you missed, jammed into one album." Steve pulls out a small notepad and writes down the proposal, many others on it, most of which are from Diana. "I'll put it on the list."

'Thai food.' (Diana.)

'Star Wars.' (Diana and the rest.)

'Nirvana.' (Tony.)

'Rocky.' (Diana (who got it from a friend of hers.))

'Troubleman soundtrack.' (Sam Wilson.)

Steve's phone rings a bit, shaking in his pocket, and he looks at the message on it. 'Mission Alert. Extraction Imminent. Meet at the curb. :)'. "Alright, Sam. Duty calls. Thanks for the run. . . if that's what you want to call 'running'". They shake hands, "Oh, that's how it is?" Steve chuckles, "Oh, that's how it is."

"Okay," Sam replies. "Any time you want to stop by the VA, make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know." Steve nods, "I'll keep it in mind." Natasha pulls up in her Corvette Stingray, Diana squeezed into the back, checking any messages from Fury, but none were at hand. "Hey, fellas," Natasha says as she rolls down the window. "Either one of you knows where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil." Diana shakes her head, letting out a laugh. Steve walks to the car, "That's hilarious." Sam bends down, seeing the dark-haired woman in the back and the smaller red-haired woman in the front. "How you doing?"

"Hey," Natasha says.

"Can't run everywhere."

"No, you can't." They drive off.


STEVE JUMPS ONTO the ship stealthily, his feet not making any noise as he crouched behind two HYDRA agents, walking in the darkness of the night, grabbing hold of a man's neck, quietly choking him to death.
Diana was somewhere on the other side of the boat, slitting the throat of another, blood splattering all over the wood paneling of the ground. Steve slowly places the dead man on the ground, running to another point of the ship, throwing his shield at a man that stood in front of him, sliding across the slick floors and spreads out a leg, the man falling on his back, Steve grabbing his shield as soon as he stands up. He throws it again at the man he kicked down, bouncing it off his chest, and catches it, beginning to run to another point of the ship. 


Diana runs beside him, her red, gold and blue armor shining in the moon's ray, but as well as the ship's yellow light, Steve propelling a man off the side of a boat as the Amazon uses her sword to sever a man's leg, making him scream, and she puts an end to his misery by using the toe of her boot to kick his chin.
Another came toward Steve, who just gets to the ground and uses the whole extent of his leg to make him fall, Diana using her shield to strike a man with the rounded surface of it. They both run to the other side of the ship, running along the whole length of it, Steve using his arm to strike a man over the edge, Diana throwing her sword to kill another, Steve kicking a man into a wall as soon as they get near them.

Diana grabs her sword, and when she sees the man Steve kicked into the wall reaching for the fire alarm, she swings it, hacking off his hand, making him scream in pain. Steve kicks him before it could raise any alarm to others. The jump over a ledge, landing on their feet, using their shields to hit as many opponents as they can. They both knew that, despite the way they wanted a normal life, they both belonged in war. That was what they were made for. Steve kicks another into a stack of metal containers, Diana using her lasso to grab onto one and bring him over to her, jumping into the air and kicking him hard, letting him fly over the edge. She jumps to the ground, sliding along her gauntlets, the bottom of her boot connecting with a man's stomach, and she again slides to another and does the same. Steve flips in the air, throwing his shield at a man that tried to kill them, grabbing the one nearest to him and forcing his head down on his thigh. Diana cuts through the clothing a person had, seeing his intestines falling to the ground in a heap, the crimson color being the same red she wore.

A man tells them to stop moving, a rifle pointed at them, Rumlow shooting him down easily as he floats onto the ship. "Took you long enough," Diana says to him. He shrugs, "Most of us aren't supersoldiers like both of you."

"I'm not a soldier," Diana shakes her head. "I never was."

"Thanks," Steve tells Rumlow, the dark-haired man taking off his parachute. "Yeah, you seemed pretty helpless without me," Diana rolls her eyes at him, turning her back to both of the men. She didn't like Rumlow; something in her stomach told him he wasn't working for them, but instead working as a spy for another group. She knew she had to trust her instincts, but Steve or any other S.H.I.E.L.D agent might not even believe her, but she knew they might. After all, she told nothing but the truth. Other S.H.I.E.L.D agents dropped down, including Natasha, their black clothing making them blend in with the night, Steve placing his shield on his back.

He, Diana, and Natasha walk in the same direction as the other men walk somewhere else. "What about the nurse that lives across the hall from you?" Natasha asks Steve as she removes her parachute. "She seems kind of nice." Steve ignores her comment, "Secure the engine room, then find me a date." Natasha jumps over a ledge. "I'm multi-tasking."

"I have a bullet for someone," one of the captors walks around the hostages, waving his rifle around. "Huh? You want a bullet in your head?" He points his gun at an innocent person, kicking his foot out of the way. "Move that foot? You want a bullet in your head?"

Steve and Diana run across the ship, their footsteps matching, Steve using different poles to thrust himself up as Diana just took a giant leap and lands safely on her feet, Steve's head popping from the edge. "I have to learn how to do that," he huffs lightly, Diana giving him a chuckle. He shoots something at a window that just sticks, two men talking inside with a weird language. "Hey, sailor," Natasha says seductively to a man that was talking on the phone for the shortest amount of time, leaving him shocked before she kicks him in the leg, using that as an advantage to use one of her ropes to sling it around his neck. She throws him close to the ledge, using his body as an anchor as she jumps over him, her red pin-straight hair flying as her guns were drawn, ready to fire. She kills one man that stood on the ground below her, hiding behind his body as she kills another two below.

Shouting from outside causes the leader to tell him to shut up, asking him if he wanted to be a hero. He knocks on a blue door, telling the man behind it to find a man called Batroc, and if he doesn't hear anything in the next two minutes, he'll start killing hostages. The man behind it agrees. Rumlow uses a wand to stun the man, catching his body before he falls to the ground with a thump. The leader looks over his shoulder, feeling that something might not be right, but dismisses the feeling and continues walking away. Two minutes.

S.H.I.E.L.D agents jump over the side of the ship, using belts and ropes to make sure they didn't fall into the water, carrying their rifles as they look into the windows, their faces are hidden from view. "Don't you sometimes get a weird feeling from Rumlow?" Diana asks Steve quietly. He shakes his head, "No, not at all." Jack Rollins places a bag on the floor, Rumlow keeping watch as the STRIKE member begins to set it up, placing a disk on the door, arms reaching out of it and latching onto the door. "Natasha, what's your status?" Steve asks into the comm. No reply. "Natasha. Status."

"Hang on!" Was his only reply before Natasha jumps onto a man's shoulders, using her Black Widow Bites to shock him. She rolls on her back, grabbing onto another's forearm, kicking him up his leg and snapping his arm, kicking his stomach and dropping, her leg swiping his from under him. When she begins to rise, she extends her leg, propelling the rifle one carried onto the floor, grabbing onto his neck and using her body weight to throw him to the ground. She jumps up. "Engine room secure." She grabs a metal rod and strikes a man's head with it.

Now it was definitely secure.

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