(15)

Barry felt like he was isolated in the raging storms of his mind. Rigidly, he leaned his slender form against the wall; nerves felt pancaked under surges of adrenaline—not to mention torrents of a sugar rush had engulfed his blood stream. He'd devoured two chocolate glazed doughnuts while patiently waiting for the train to arrive. He was on the brink of having a emotional relapse with the ominous musing of the demon wearing yellow.

Sighing out a despondent breath, he scuffed his shoes against the step while his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Blearily, he blinked the moisture coating his steel-azure eyes away; remnants of memories with Felicity standing in the office of Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division with tablet held in the clutch of her toned arms. It replayed in his mind. Their dance at the Queen Mansion that was plague he allowed to devour his heart.

Feeling her dainty fingers brush over his neck, staring into her bright aqua eyes as they swayed to the rhythmic beat of music and drinking in the sight of her dressed in a shot cut vibrant pink dress it was a dream worth keeping above everything else—chasing down his mother's murderer—the man in the yellow suit and telling Iris the truth that he loved her.

Although, Felicity and him lived in different worlds—maybe not so different since the Flash and Arrow have forged a partnership—a dynamic of trust without hiding secrets and always speaking the truth, even though sometimes it had become hard to say when death lurked in a corner or on rooftop and a sniper laser pointer was aimed on one of their skulls. Oliver was hired killer five years ago, the billionaire prince of Starling City had sold his life way to a cause that forced his own demons to emerge out of the shadows—disreputable criminals and trained assassins. He'd lost his love Shado, and struck a deal with Amanda Waller the corrupt leader of A.R.G.U.S. and a coiling snake that bit her venom into misguided operatives to ensure the security of her true and arising organization- Task Force X-The Suicide Squad.

Oliver had wounded a lot of people with arrows under her orders, and he carried that burden of grief well under the Arrow's hood. Never run blind.

Before he chanced himself to look at the tracks he felt the vibrations of a vehicle accelerating down the street. His mind became slow and collective as he listened to the frantic pulses of a heart, turning around with he leveled the borderline of his peripheral vision and his gaze locked onto a young brunette mother crossing the street with her toddler as the traffic light changed green adjacent from them. All it took was one fraction of a second for a jovial expression to turn into a face of horror. Within the collusion, before chrome hit the woman's legs, he run to the street-a streak of red energy slicing through lanes of traffic.

Racing through flecks of snow hitting his face, Barry grabbed the screaming little boy, embracing him into secured warmth of his arms and settled the child on sidewalk. Echoes of screams of the mother drove the anger coarse faster into his veins.

Everything flashed before him, as he entered a vortex of memory, and found the yellow streak emerging from the gray fog of the cyclone. He moved on instinct, allowing the speed force to guide him back to the woman frozen like a deer in the headlights as ear shattering screams erupted from her paling lips. Taking a deep breath, he aligned his body with the energy around him, becoming a dagger to cut through barriers of glass and snow. He focused on her horrified face and felt her pain in the instant he vaulted over the hood of truck and caught her before the back of her skull slammed against the concrete. He sped away from the vehicle, and brought her back to her wailing child.

It took a moment for Barry to crush his hands into the metal hood as tired screeched to a stop and he young teenager inside the driver seat let out of the wheel. Using his super- enhanced strength, he pushed the car to the curb and unfastened his fists while tearing off the hood and tossing it aside into the middle of the streets as he listened to the train horn blare amidst the chaos. Giving a fast glance at the mother hugging her son, he moved to the driver's side door, and ripped it clean off its hinges as sparks flared into his gray eyes and grabbed the teenager, inhaling the stench of alcohol and threw him down to the cement. He made sure his face was disordered as glared angrily at the moaning kid and clenched his jaw. "Let this be a warning to you...Next time I catch your drinking and driving I'll be putting you behind bars..."

He raced back to the parking lot and leaned his back against the wall. It was close...His indently had almost been exposed because he performed the will to act.

"Barry?" Hearing that soft brush of excitement echoing in his ears, Barry rotated his body involuntarily; while feeling his speeding heart thud to stop. He took a moment to caught his breath, and met her beaming face within a second he roved his gray eyes directly into Felicity's bright aqua irises, looking at her blonde ringlets billow in the frigid breeze.

Summoning enough reserves of his strength; Barry raced away from the vehicle and resolved to make his way near the parking lot, his feet dragged on the frozen cement, but his momentary cowardice betrayed the whim of confidence. He became unbalance as doubt flooded through his veins when he caught a glimpse of imposing shadow behind her. Suddenly, he posture became uncharacteristically rigid and defensive.

His eyes trained directly onto the man with five-foot -eleven stature and dressed in a black winter coat. He felt a almost foreboding sense when he spared a glance at the menacing and rugged face hidden underneath long frays of disheveled brown locks. An icy prick of dread pented into his thumping heart. Feeling a throb spread behind his gray eyes, Barry furrowed his brow in disbelief as he became entrapped into the haunting pale azure orbs of that remind him of the lucid and tortured demeanor of Ronnie Raymond—Firestorm.

"Earth to Barry," Felicity quickly intoned, jarring his attention away from the Winter Soldier.

Barry looked away for a moment, and watched Felicity link her arm with bionic metal one...Barry felt all blood drain from his face. "Hey, Felicity," he swallowed, sounding a bit incredulous. He was intimated from James' unfriendly and cold demeanor. Averting the Soviet assassin with a broken gaze, he shortly muttered out, "How are you doing?"

She stared blankly at him, observing the struggle of emotions creeping over his chiseled and boyish visage. He looked guarded and almost carried a despondent gleam in his soulful eyes. She seemed concerned as the jovial expression of being in love with Jame, faded into a shroud of confusion. "Hey, is everything okay, you seem not yourself...I thought Barry Allen always smiles?"

Barry dipped his down and slanted his lips into a faint grimace. "I'm just feeling a bit dragged...I-I had a rough night," he stammered, with a touch of an edge in his voice. And he looked back at the crash sigh. "Maybe a rough two minutes..."

"Not enough jitters from the java house?" Felicity lightly teased, looking up at James as he furrowed his brow into creased lines of perplexity."Sorry, James, it means coffee. Barry and I have a thing for grabbing lots of coffee to release the overload of our stressful days at work-" She halted in her words, realization dawned on her that she didn't even intro James to Barry...Stupid..."Barry Allen this is...um...my...I mean...this is James."

Barry nodded and extended out his hand, and James timidly accepted it into a firm hand shake. "Nice to meet you, James," he said with a little ease of a smile tugging on his lips.

Still, he was unsure that his friend's new boyfriend could be trusted. He had to stay on guard, and keep a very close eye on the stranger with a metal arm. And then, he thought about the details of what Iris had told him about a masked Russian assassin in Washington...Long hair and metal arm. There was a harrowing connection unfolding in the recess of his mind. Nevertheless, he had to play it cool, and investigate on more information on the Winter Soldier while doing his utmost to keep Felicity left in dark about his concerns. "Felicity informed Doctor Snow me that both of will be staying at S.T.A.R labs with us..." James nodded in response. "Well, I do know that Cisco will keep you busy with all his new tech...Unless you two have plans?"

"Oh, we haven't gone that far yet," Felicity returned, holding her red lips into a assuring smile. Her fingers tentatively traced over James' metal knuckles. "The reason why I called Caitlin is because James is suffering from memory trauma. She knows how to deal with these kind of irregularities in the human psyche since Ronnie became a different person after the explosion."

"Does Doctor Wells know about this?' Barry asked, keeping his eyes leveled on James. "You know now is not the best time to bring a stranger to the lab. Things are way different and trust is becoming one of them." he said, with bitterness lace in his voice, desperately trying to fight against his own demons without her suspecting the discomfort roiling in his stomach until his phone buzzed and pulled it out reading the text. "Joe needs me at crime scene on the other side of the city. Don't worry Caitlin will be here shortly with the lab's van.

Felicity arched an eyebrow., and she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "Is there something wrong with you?" she whispered, with a measure of concern in her voice. "You seem very different...That is unusual for you."

"Don't worry about me, Felicity," Barry breathed, holding a gentle smile on his lips. He settled his gaze back at James' metal hand. His perturbed expression hardened back into a frown as he felt a coldness erupt in his veins. A measure of regret solidified over his his heart and he felt displaced and he needed to run. "I'll catch up with you later at the lab. We'll order pizza..."

Her expression fell knowingly when she saw Barry's uneasy gray eyes.

"Okay, I guess we'll see each other night," she replied with a hint of disappointment in her voice, and watched him disappear into the shadows. Not even in a fraction of a second, she watched a red streak vanish through the traffic lanes. She blinked, and then focused her attention back on James. "I really don't know why he acted like that? Barry is usually very friendly and sweet. Something is definitely bugging with him-"

"Do you think he's scared of me?" James cut her off with a disheartened tone, clenching his metal fingers. "He did seem a little distant around me...I don't blame him because I'm not very approachable."

"Don't you dare think of that, James." Felicity spoke in a even tone, interweaving her fingers with his chrome digits. "It's not you...Something has changed him since my last visit...I think it has to do with Harrison Wells."

"Who the hell is Harrison Wells?" James growled with a fierce undertone, his brow furrowed with a disquieted frown spreading over his lips.

"Harrison Wells," Felicity began as she lead James to the parking lot, which didn't seem crowded with vehicles, just an endless white path of plowed snow humped over the wall of the building, and littered with dangerous obstruction of rubble and shards of glass. It was obvious there was an attack that happen during the hours of the night before and Barry was keeping himself tight lipped about the details.

Instinctively, she crouched down, pulled out a tissue from her hand bag, and carefully picked up a piece of glass with a strange reside printed on the edge. It was harrowing enough for her brilliant mind to construct a theory, while adjusting her glasses. She groaned a little, feeling her thoughts cluster in rapid intertwining streams of aspects of the aftermath. "...he is a brilliant scientist-genius level intellect...We're talking like billionaire Tony Stark level. Almost nine months ago, Harrison created a machine that ruined a lot lives in this city."

James scrunched his face, revealing his lines of confusion. "The scientist created a weapon?"

"Abnormal weapon to be exact. It was a called a particle accelerator. My friend Ray couldn't find all the information of the design specs...It was almost like Wells swept everything up and clean slated his failures," she explained, lifting the glass up to the light, and inspecting hardened base substance latched on the glass. "It was supposed to bring a bright future to humanity, but there were irregularities in the system and a lot of people became effected by a shock wave of fusion...Turning and rewriting their DNA into super humans who can control all the elements and used their meta-human powers as weapons. Only a few of the infected didn't become corrupted by their powers."

"Meta-humans?" James parroted. His gaze fixed on the shard of glass, and full his lips set into a firm line as the cold air slashed across his scruffy face. "You mean like-like programmed assets set out to cause harm...Kill people?" Growling under his breath, he averted his blue eyes searching for his resolve while ingrained programming of the Red Room was threatening to surface.

"Some of them do kill, but most of infected are already criminals who just want to tie up loose strings." Felicity replied, downbeatily. "There is one evil person in this city who murdered a lot of good people because of something that happened to him and a young boy in the past. He's the called the man in yellow and he won't stop killing until he gets back what had been stolen from him."

"No!" James lashed out with an ear-piercing cry. He felt the threads of his soul twisting, blood elevating into high degrees that surged through his veins.

Violent flashes coated in red-blood invaded his mind as dark shapes of bodies positioned on a wall, cuffed and heads covered with black sacks.

He saw a frozen wasteland painted with macabre of s spilled blood and glimmering metal dog tags buried in the snow. His name- James Buchanan Barnes-32557038 T42 43 A- his stolen existence cloaked under Zola's shadow.

You are nothing to this world. A simple irregularity of human error that is yet to be perfected for HYDRA.

A sudden rush of coldness penetrated over his bones. Slithering deeper, until all nerve endings grew numb. He was frozen, trembling and panting out heavy lungful of breath. His blue eyes became livid and color morphed into a intense and smoldering steel behind his tresses of hair. Everything was unraveling inside him, to a point that he felt absent to all reality. He didn't feel his wobbling knees hit the ground as he toppled over, and slammed his metal fist into a cement block, shattering it into pieces as they crumbled under his powerful savage punches in succession and then, scraped his fingers over the ground. Sparks flew and the screeches of metal caused Felicity to jerk in the wake of eerie sound engulfing her ears, watching him succumb to the darkness swallowing and dragging him back into the icy void -back into the merciless tentacles of HYDRA.

"James," Amidst the storms raving in his mind, he heard her voice anchoring out. She was there, her warm presence served as calm when her hand splayed over his rigid chest. He snapped his head up, trying to blink the red cloud cover over his searing gaze, and managed to summon enough force of effort to clutched her shoulder. The radiating heat of her slender body pressed against him. Their hearts were beating in unison against the gelid nightmares of his past-she was pulling him out of HYDRA's weaves, ripping the cords and holding him until the darkness released him from the imprisonment.

He felt the softness of her lips press a wet kiss on the slope of pale neck; rested against his jugular. "I can't believe we're doing this again...You seriously need help."

She brought his face into her hands, finger slid through his mussed locks and gloved palms roamed over his stiff and bristly jaw. "You're a mess..."

In reaction, his metal arm gave a sharp thrust and seized her wrist, "Felicity," he seethed, his voice growing into darker pitch of haunting plea. Despite the loitering chill in the air, he was feverish. His skin glazed with sickening sweat. He morphing back into the unhinged and program monster that had been bred on the operating table-unmade and reconfigured to feel no human emotions—just cold hatred. Hollowness. Aggression. Distance. "Felicity," he cried out her name, coiling his fingers enough to crush the bones of her thin wrist. He was holding onto her like a life line.

Felicity closed her eyes and drew out a shuttering breath, using her free hand to stroke back straggly hair, and giving her full access to his broad forehead as he released his grip. His blue eyes widened with horror, and blanched aback from him, feeling utterly ashamed as his lips sulked into a painful grimace. "I didn't mean-" he breathed unsteadily, frantic energy was increasing in his blood stream. "...I didn't mean to scare you."

"Hey," she soothed in a faint voice, holding her red lips into coy smile. Her thumb slowly traced over the arch of his lip. "...it takes a lot to scare me."

James felt his lower lip quivering as he absently stared at his metal hand. "I wasn't always like this..." he admitted, releasing a painful breath. "I remember glimpses of a life without the voices and coldness." His eyes watered and his chest felt constricted and bruised. He wanted to run away, leave her alone so the Winter Soldier would never pull the trigger on her.

The overwhelming urge to exhaust himself from the ingrained frustration blotted his vision into dark splotches and his skin grew hot underneath his clothes, but he mustered enough strength to fight against the violent thoughts, clenching his teeth. He solemnly dipped his head down, and felt his heart shredding into pieces when he stared into aqua eyes. He was searching for his existence again. He had to tear the strong ropes into fraying threads. Thrash and break free from the strongholds of his scrambled mind. Choking out a breath, he blinked the wetness of his eyes, and evened the frigid air pushing against his lungs. "Sometimes I try to drift back into those memories, but their hands keep pulling me back into the machine."

Refusing her emotions to betray her, Felicity brushed her gloved tipped fingers over his chrome knuckles, feeling his desperation in those needy seconds of staring into the ravenous azure orbs of his piercing gaze. She was careful not to trigger any immense tension which would prompted him to decrease his efforts of unleashing-the worlds most efficient and prolific assassin- -the Winter Soldier.

"I don't know what cruel things those bastards did to you, James, but I promise that you will never have to run from these nightmares alone. Caitlin is going to help you recover every memory that was stolen from you." Her promising words were gentle and imploring him to hang on, stay focus on the present, to keep fighting. His real hand roamed over her shoulder, reflexively and leather fingers pressed a coldness on the side of her neck. She didn't falter back.

He felt his beating heart crashing against his chest, he was looking into her eyes. No hesitation. Just full blown desire lurked beyond the blue storms of his intense gaze stripping over her beautiful face. A abysmal, needing moan wrung from his chilled lips. He inched his face closer until they were in perfect symmetry, foreheads touched to form the diamond and noses scrunched as breath coiled over skin. "Ty moi," he said with a gravelly cadence of Russian, parting his lips and relishing on the taste of her gloss that seeped on his tongue. At first, he felt a raw tension creep over his bones, the burning hunger roiled in his gut as he pried her lips open with unyielding fierceness. "You're mine..."

"I am yours," Felicity said against his rugged skin. Her arms enfolded over his shoulders, and lips moved with sluggish chaste slides; taking a moment to collect the masculine taste of fire and ice on his soft flesh. Loose hair spilled in her eyes, and she was falling into his dangerous allure, numb and against her will as the brushes of his melting lips caressed over the tender edges of her jaw, all the while relishing the control over his confident and dominating urges to devour her in open parking lot. Casting, all doubt aside, she fastened her eyelids shut, and pretended they were in another world, away from the chaos and structures of responsibility. Just his powerful heart beat kept her steady on the ground beneath them. She plunged deep into his mouth, stealing his breath away and conjoining pressure of submission against the wet heated embrace of his lips. It was extraordinary and she wanted it to last forever. Her mind and soul were far away with his until-

"Felicity?"

She detached her lips and whipped her head around to find Caitlin standing near the white van with a sodden look in her rich brown eyes. The young doctor settled a disheartened gaze at James, mostly his mane of brown hair and pale blue eyes. He looked like Ronnie. With a slight furrow of her brow, Felicity understood the longing and the grief building inside her friend. "Caitlin," she gasped, quickly wiping the smear of lipstick off James' swollen lips. "This is James..."

"Please to meet you, James," Doctor Snow said, with a despairing edge in her voice. She clicked her boots closer to the couple,and James straightened to his full height, extending out his right hand. She gladly accepted it while her eyes remained level on his darkened face. "Why don't grab a coffee and talk for a bit. Doctor Wells isn't at the lab and Cisco is with Joe at the dock warehouse." Felicity creased her brow. "Don't worry, I sent Cisco a text stating that I will be taking you guys back to the lab," she explained, her eyes trailed over scruff and broadness of the assassin's jaw. "You look very much like someone who is very close to me, James."

He didn't say anything. His fingers rubbed over her gloved hand. He curved his lips into half of a smile.

"He's been through a lot," Felicity spoke, slipping the shard into her purse as she rose from the ground. "While we're on this subject of the mystery game, what's up with Barry?"

Caitlin blinked at her question, uncertain to answer. "Barry is just going through something. He's getting closer to discovering the truth about his mother's killer and also trying to build a stable relationship with Iris. A lot has been happening in Central City since you left...Three people are missing and my fiancee is flaming and displaced meta human with no recognition of our lives together," she added, bitterness was ragging up her throat. "It's always good to you at the lab. Cisco has a few technical things to show you and it looks like I have a lot of work cut out for me with James..."

"He'll keep you busy...I mean he's memory problem will keep you busy."

James nodded and looked soulfully into Caitlin's dark eyes, "Felicity told me that you can repair the damage that has been done..." he whispered, putting all measures of his trust in the brunette doctor. He leaned in closer, detecting her pain and she fell into faint halos of blue whirling beyond the darkness of his own turmoil.

He cautiously lifted his hand to her cheek, tracing over a lingering glisten of tears. His touch wasn't invasive. Warmth spread back into her blood. "I know you lost someone close to you, Doctor Snow," he whispered in a even breath. "I know you will hold that against me, because I look like him, don't I?"

"Genetically speaking," the brunette doctor muffled in a low voice, watching his penetration shift back to Felicity. "You do have the same color of eyes and long hair, but Ronnie was different and he loved pizza." She gave him a broken smile, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I can tell that you need someone to guide you back into the past, to recover what has been stolen from you...I can do fix you, but I need you to trust in me as not a doctor...A friend."

"You can really help me...Remember again?" he asked, with a tinge of hope in his throaty baritone. There was still a hint of disbelief welled in his eyes.

"It's not going to be easy," Caitlin returned, taking a step back and looked at Felicity who was smiling reassuringly at her, "We have to take run a few tests at the lab, but first let's go grab some coffee, and then we'll decide how to begin the rehabilitation sessions."

James let out a deep breath, his mind was obstructed by images of a tall blonde haired soldier holding a red and white shield. He tried to remember one thing. "I want to do know who is level six agent...I want to know who is Steve Rogers?"

"When we get to the lab, I will have Felicity access the Washington database which will give us information on his name and resistance. We can start from here and see if your memories respond images of Steve Rogers."

James stared at her. "Do you think we'll find him?" he asked. "I have questions to ask him and something else ..."

"We'll find him, James," Caitlin replied, pulling out the key fob for the van. She unlocked the vehicle while looking for her shoulder his lengthy muss hair veiling over his ice blue eyes. A sickening lump starting to build in her throat. She was vaguely aware of her own shaky voice whispering out her pain, and she added, "...and Ronnie."

Her dark methodical eyes caught the gleam of the torch light. Nyssa al Ghul stood in deep mediation in front of trickling fountain. She blended well with the elements of fire and darkness surrounding her.

Rich cranberry and ebony clothed over her tone and lithe form as her raven locks draped over her armored shoulders. She was armed with her bow and arrows, and a sword attached to belt. And yet, she felt exposed and vulnerable. Unprepared to face the Demon's Head. It was reckoning that would grant her peace and necessary action to ensure the truth from being shattered by his blade. Grieving for life meant trading in her soul-surrendering to humanity and shamed from her mantle.

Death will always become necessary for the cause of reformation.

The words of her father jaded her, she was a solider in his army. Instructed to follow orders and paint the cities of the world with blood, whether of becoming angel death to the ruthless groups of mercenaries which hunted down children, being an ambassador to the father's succession or reclaiming the natural resources in Russia and Germany or tracking down rogue operatives that had detached themselves from the League of Assassins. Nevertheless, she felt condemned to feel trapped in the weaves of endless plot of human extraction.

Each life she stole with her blade, she became a degree colder inside. She felt restless, used and desolated by the light. For moment, she had kept concealed truth-a flicker of hope that made her hollow body feel alive from her father's watchful gaze. Every memory of Sara Lance on the shore line, starving and fighting to live, it brought great pain-shards in her guarded heart that penetrated through the deepest of scars. She held her sister's body in her arms when poison coursed in her veins, devouring everything warm and a cold venom of death. It was a message of deception and burdened she had allowed herself to alleviate and overcome by decision.

Now, Nyssa was fighting a war of choice and betrayal. She was prepared to devolve herself from the shadow of the League. Her father -the great man and teacher she had once believed in was now slowly turning into her enemy after he created an alliance of other great evil that will harvest innocent blood-HYDRA. The shadows eluded him from her sharp gaze; sensing his haunting presence, Nyssa drew out her sword and held to the flickers of firelight. "I am not afraid to face you, coward." she spoke with a spiteful hiss in her rich voice. "You dare to cross my shadow when I have given my existence to you and pledged my heart to the ideals you carry in your cold veins, father. I thought you were a great man, capable of anything with the power you wield, but you have betrayed your daughters...You have signed a contract in blood to grant yourself domain over this world by siding with devils."

"I have been betrayed by bloodline," Ras al Ghul echoed back from the darkness behind a stone pillar. His gray eyes settled on Nyssa with disappointment. He raised her to feel no sentiment -no emotion bond with another. Sara was her weakness. He made sure that light was snuffed out before certain secrets became compromised in Starling City.

"You have created a wound in my heart, daughter. You broke the code of the League and revealed love towards a weak girl that tasted death because she wasn't mindful of her surroundings. Sara Lance was an error that has plagued your mind for years after since you found her dying on the island. You went above my commands and because of the fault you have paid the price by carrying this grief so well, my daughter."

"Do not speak words of Sara and use them against me, father." Nyssa shot back, indignant. She aligned her blade with slant of light. "I made my choice. I will accept and receive the punishment you have condemned upon me, but I will not stand in your presence as you force yourself to unveil the power of the Lazarus Pit to enemy I do not know."

"HYDRA has been in the League's best interest for decades. We were allies in the bloodiest of wars and in this new era both of our ambitions share the common will of power to rebuild the world by tearing the old one down." Ra's narrowed his intense gaze, his gray eyes settled on the red image of a skull with tentacles clutched in his hand. A harrowing sense of dread crept within his bones. "This symbol is the mark of the pledge I have forged decades before with monster who walked this world in human flesh." He revealed with edge in his low voice. "It is a mark of the demon that lurks within the darkness of the diseased souls that bare no sense of emotion. Just obedience."

He turned around and stared with a deaden gaze at his daughter. There was no sentiment burning in his gray eyes. He looked at at Nyssa as if she was a asset, not a part of his bloodline. He saw the unhinged love and the complete abandonment of her loyalty. He had taken a gentle child and used her as slave to do his reckoning of spilling innocent blood. His cold possession of her life was betraying him. Ra's knew that he was losing her to humanity. "I blame myself for sparing your life. Your mother sacrificed her soul to ensure that you would live under my care. You have turned against me...You have forgotten your place in the shadows and now you desire abandonment from this world."

Nyssa eyed her father wearily. "I thought I knew you, father," she said, her voice despairing and rough." She felt a chill rush over her lips the guilt of her betrayal edged at her soul. "I thought I knew the man...The Demon, but I guess you have deceived my own heart."

He narrowed his eyes and absorbed the details of his daughter's presence when she stepped into the toned body covered in black and copper garments with intricate designs on the seems of the pants and sleeves. Her thick dark hair tighten into long braid ending at her lower back. Leather straps were attached to her tights, holding daggers which she claimed from her travels, attached to her back, scabbard housing a Punal blade. Her dark eyes gleamed with savage contempt which flowed within her veins from birth.

He didn't break eye contact. "HYDRA is a part of our world." He crinkled the paper in his fist. "The Red Skull and I created a pact decades before your time. We were ideologists and visionaries, both of us had our minds set on rebuilding this world into a new image by tearing the old one down and wiping away the ashes of humanity when death would finally devour all that was impure and weak."

"You spoke to me once about a soldier. The man who defeated the Red Skull," she inquired, with her lips pulling into a light scowl. "I believe is name is Captain Steven Rogers. He is the only one who will take a stand and fight true justice before surrendering to death."

"That is correct," Ra's affirmed with a heavy exhale. "Steven Rogers is a breed of humanity's weakness. A failure that had been reborn into perfection with the effects of the super-soldier serum. He also has a touch of essence from the Lazarus springs. He can't age." He looked down at her with a hardness welling in his gray eyes, reaching out a hand to grasp her face. "Not to worry, for I have looked through the dark side Captain's reflection and found a fractured shard that I will use to stab him into the heart. And we will have power over HYDRA."

"How can you speak these words to me, father?" she growled, her eyes growing colder with remorse. "I can no longer trust you. If you had a way to bring Sara back, I would fight by your side. But you have shunned her from the springs and allowed death to take away the purity that flowed into her veins. You stomped her innocence out as if she was a flower under your boot."

"Nyssa," Ra's raised his voice, and brushed away a few strands off her forehead. "Enough with your inner quarrel, my daughter. We can not change what has been done to you but we must not allow this evil to have victory and makes us weak."

Nyssa nodded at her father's calm words, "Weakness is enemy that our hearts will never share, father."

"Yes, my daughter." He responded, brushing his lips on her chilled brow. "We grow strong through our pain and grief. Sara will not be forgotten."

"We have endured a lot of pain, father." she said softly, pulling away from him and locked her eyes with his gaze. "What are your wishes to do with Steve Rogers?"

Ra's pulled out a small bag of powder, placing in her hand. "You have been requested to go back to America. Find the super soldier and use all our methods to deceive him and then put the powder into his drink and the Brooklyn boy will reveal his weaknesses to you."

Nyssa lowered her eyes at the bag in her palm, "I will do this last mission in honor of Sara's life. When it is over and the soldier is your prisoner there will be a great division between us, father..."

"If that is what you wish, daughter. I will respect your choice...Finish the task and find Captain America into the shadows...When he comes here, death will be waiting to claim him."

It was a benumbing winter night back in Washington. Crisp and clear, and the scent of fresh snow hung in the air. Captain Rogers was restless. Both in mind and spirit. The world around him was falling into a chasm of darkness and he was feeling the weight of his remorse building onto the broad expanse of his shoulders. All the structures of order and security were crumbling into shards and raked under the shadows of HYDRA. He saw the errors encoded within the gray shades of S.H.E.I.L.D. He was longer attached to that world. All he cared about was finding Bucky.

Nothing else matter. No shields or disciplinary acts of justice. He wanted to abandon his pledge as a soldier and Avenger, carrying the guilt and past without revealing his own pain. His mind was tempted to remember the hardships and survival of being a sick boy in the heart of Brooklyn-he had no nightmares or haunting ghosts to catch up with him when he strayed away from the light. He shook his head to clear his mind of days long past and best forgotten. If there was one thing that his new alliance respected it was strength and fortitude. If he wanted to make it easier for himself under the shadow of the Arrow,, he needed to meet the vigilante's standards especially if he hoped to find his best friend alive.

Drive by rage and guilt, Steve felt the prickling sense of dread tugging in the warm torrents of his blood. His fading, discolored battle scars itched and his clothes felt uncomfortable. His rippling and broad muscles tightened under the layers of his sweater and jacket, and his densely sculpted body held a resolute stance as he stood on the cement ledge of his apartment building's rooftop. He was a motionless statue mounted on the corner, still and observant to his surroundings as his severe blue eyes gleamed like crystal against the streaks of moonlight piercing from the intangible clouds shrouding over the crescent moon. His full shaped lips pulled into a firm line as he continued to passively stare out at the city lights.

He looked statuesque in the tarnished glow: his sharp cheekbones and chiseled jawline were commanding as he clenched his lips into fists at his side. Something was stirring in him, a rapt lapping sense of dread penetrated deep. He need to break free from the thralls of anguish dragging him further into a red abyss.

Steve felt the immeasurable strength and valor of Captain America diminishing. He was fading. His shield cracked and his heart marred by phantoms of olden pain.

Inside his soul wanted to go back, drifting through time and find Peggy and Bucky again sitting at the bar with bright faces. They were ghosts. Damned illusions he kept bottled within him for seventy years. His best friend was cryogenic and brainwashed hybrid of a killer and an lost man's empty reflection. His lifelong love-his best girl-an old woman lost in the burdens of her damaged mind. They moved on with their lives. He never left the ice. He never danced with Peggy in her scarlet dress and delivered wet heat over her dark red lips. He never grew old with the war veterans. It was his price of the choice he made when he carried out his final mission.

Frustrated, Steve broke apart his lips, and growled with compressed breath, "Is this a test?" he asked looking outward to the shadows of the passing night. The air buffeted around him, whipping his hardened face as he narrowed his eyes to the street below him. Couples sat at tables, sipping coffees and texting on their mobile devices. They all seemed distracted by new technology. No one hardly danced anymore.

It was a real shame to watch those memories the simple attachments of 1900's fade, and become replaced by falsehoods of love. It wasn't real.

This new life isn't seem real.

"I thought I was the only one who broods on rooftops," Steve blinked the fog of grayness out of his eyes. He turned slightly around, and stared at the dark green hooded billionaire. Elusive and stoic. The infamous cloaked protector was crouched on the ledge. He was fully armed with his arrows and crossbow. His face darkened by reserves of malice and grayish eyes hidden behind a mask. He was keeping his distance and silently observing Rogers as he met Steve's stern blue eyes. The captain looked affronted. "I never thought America's favored soldier would ever look so lost..."

Steve shot the Arrow a grim look. "I can't stand waiting for things to go bad again...not when I have a friend out there who needs me to bring him home. I learned while on battle that a soldier must not show any weakness or be driven by selfish desires to save his own life. He must be strong and vigilant. Things that I used to be before the plane crashed in the ice." He blinked, and shifted his gaze back at Oliver, but he didn't peer into the younger man's obscured gaze. He refused to become pulled into the darkness as blue eyes glinted under the hood. "I used to understand of the price of freedom when on the battlefield. I guess I'm not quite sure that means anymore. And a part wants to go back and fix my mistakes while the other parts wants to the feel the ground sinking beneath my feet." he revealed with a strangled and tortured voice.

Oliver stared knowingly at him, understanding. His searing gaze went through Steve's fractured expression and focused on the interweaves of pain trapped in the captain's blue eyes. There was no purpose or reserves of strength. It was almost as if the super-solider had become corrupted from the bitterness and failure that flowed into his veins. "You have to stop putting the blame on yourself, Steve," he said in a husky voice, sensing his utter guilt. "Abandoning your mission will not only cause you more pain, but also leave you feeling ashamed of the choice you made of not daring yourself to move..." He dipped his head down, keeping his features stoic under the shadow of his hood. "I made a lot mistakes in these eight years of protecting my city. Some were unforgivable. After wearing mask both as the Arrow and the billionaire I have come to realize that sometimes the choices we make define our fate."

Steve pondered on that. Truly and deeply. He was getting a clearer understanding of the hooded archer. He pressed his lips into a taut grimace, and sighed evenly, "I keep on asking myself if Bucky is beyond saving. HYDRA messed him badly...What if I really lost him?"

"If there is one thing I have learned," Oliver jumped from the ledge and stood in front of the captain. "...friends never give up on each other."

A faint smile curled on Steve's lips, and he felt a calm against the storm as he looked into the archer's blue eyes beyond the mask and he found a small amount of trust.

Oliver removed the quiver from his shoulder, and quickly pulled out wrapped package. He handed it to Steve. "If you're be apart of my world, Captain Rogers. You need to a wear a mask."

"Mask?"

"Just open it," Oliver grumbled, and tried his utmost not to growl and watched soldier unravel the twine and rip the package open to reveal a dark blue hood and a jacket with an silver embossed symbol of an eagle in the center. "Yeah, I know it's not your style of uniform, but it will keep you identity safe as we enter this war. The mask it not only used to protect you, but also the people closest to you."

Steve nodded in response and traced his hand over the Kevlar material of the uniform, and then shifted his blue eyes back at the shield while holding the hood in his tight clutch.

Oliver smirked weakly and he moved stealthy towards the ledge. He fired a arrow into the darkness, looking back at the Steve. " Try to keep up..."