Chapter 15: Fight and Flight

Hal barely noticed when James took his place beside her. He sank immediately into a deep, brooding silence, so it wasn't like she was ignoring him. Although, to be fair, she was ignoring everything. The theater full of people had long faded to annoying background noise. Her laser focus was fixed on the box across the way. Her head hurt. Even her ears ached from the strain. Once or twice, she forgot to breathe, and she snapped back to herself with quick gasps that she hoped passed as appreciation for the music. When had the music started again? It didn't matter. Nothing else mattered. Not the cold. Not the pounding behind her eyes. Not the ringing in her ears. Not even the man beside her. If it weren't for the universal shift in consciousness as the opera ended, she would never have realized. But the audience's shattered attention spiked across her mind like slivers of glass, and the pain jerked her to the present.

Jerked outside the gummy time of thoughts and memories, Hal had to hesitate a moment before she remembered how to clap. It was the immediacy of the motion that threw her off, and for the first time since he returned to the box, James glanced her way. Hal focused on the stage. The performers bowed, the audience continued to clap. The performers bowed again, and the audience went on. No one dared to stop clapping before Doom. Except, of course, James, who never started clapping in the first place. Hal used the time to center herself, focusing on her stinging palms as the cast gathered on stage for a third curtain call. She felt sluggish and antsy at the same time. Her mind hadn't remembered how it fit back together just yet. It has spent too long contorting into the shape of another man's head.

Doom stopped applauding after the fourth curtain call, and his subjects' applause gradually petered out as their monarch rose. He exited with as much aplomb as he entered with. That brief distraction gave Hal the time to remember how her legs worked and how to move them before a Doombot appeared to usher them from the theater. She walked a pace ahead of the Soldier. He slunk along on full alert, less confident and more wary than he'd been when they arrived. His caution didn't surprise Hal, but his shaken confidence did. He was keeping his conversation with Doom to himself, away from the surface of his thoughts, and while she wouldn't do him the disservice of digging for them, she wished she'd paid more attention to that little drama. The night has been a deceptively calm event with a league of moving pieces flying below the surface. Like an ocean during the turn of the tide. Stage productions always had those moving pieces, but for one of the few times in history, the action in the audience might have surpassed the staged plots.

They made it to the car after a century that passed in a blink. Hal sat down, feeling as if she'd walked forever, but she could hardly remember the journey. James slid in beside her, a frown dragging his lips so low she wondered if they'd slip off his chin. The theaters lights slid from the doors to the back window and shrank in the dark as the car entered the long stretch between the theater and the outskirts of Doomstadt.

As her thoughts stabilized, her lethargy slid away. As that sensation left, adrenaline flowed in white hot pulses from her core. Her mission wasn't over. She had what she needed, but now she had to act on that information. Now. Before anyone realized she'd changed the game.

She had no time to waste.

Springing forward, she latched onto the driver's neck with both hands. The car swerved into a hedge a mile away from the theater. Fortunately, they hadn't been going more than thirty miles an hour, but the impact sill jarred Hal against the driver's headrest. If she survived the new few hours, she'd have a truly lovely bruise across her chest. The driver's short nails were also making some impressive scratches in the backs of her hands. James, knocked sideways by the collision, glared at the scene.

"Hal!"

"I'm busy," Hal grunted. Putting someone to sleep was easier in the movies. Thankfully, she'd spent a good deal of time lately with a bunch of soldiers and assassins. She hoped they wouldn't mind she borrowed a few things.

James laid his metal hand on her shoulder. He squeezed in warning. "Let him go."

"Hold on a sec," she said between clenched teeth. She didn't want to kill the guy, so she was busy trying to cut off the blood flow to his brain without choking him. Natasha thought about doing this every time she looked at Stark. If she just squeezed the sides, she wouldn't do any permanent damage. Or, at least, she hoped she wouldn't.

James yanked her back, and Hal squawked.

"Let me." The Soldier clapped his hand around the driver's neck, and in another few moments, the driver had slumped in a boneless heap against the wheel. Hal flexed her fingers and huffed. She hadn't needed his help.

Satisfied with his work, the Soldier turned and pinned her with an ice cold battle glare. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

Hal pushed him aside and patted down the unconscious driver as she tried to explain. Action was more important than words at the moment, and she struggled to keep her sentences together. "Didn't think I was seriously like – Oh my! Such a lovely show! I'm totally not worried about the fucking dictator and killer robots everywhere, and you know our house is bugged as hell, so it's not like I could just wait and – Ah ha!" Victorious, she grabbed the driver's cell from his pocket and hopped out of the car. She spun in a circle, lifting the device as she hunted for a signal. It only took a few turns to find one.

As she began furiously texting, James slipped out of the other door and rested his arms on the roof of the car, watching. "How about an explanation now, doll?"

"Not yet," Hal snapped. "Still busy. Be patient."

She sent ten texts off to different numbers in rapid succession, and although James waited for her to finish, he trapped her gaze the second she lowered the phone.

"You're confused," Hal said.

"Yeah."

"I'll explain on the way. Can you help me move him?" she asked, gesturing to the driver.

"Sure. Where?"

"Just out."

Wordlessly, the Soldier opened the driver's door, unclipped his seat belt, and hauled the limp body into the grass. As he worked, Hal went around to the front passenger side and buckled herself in. James took the wordless cue to assume the wheel and ducked into the car beside her. As he put the car in reverse, he asked, "Where we headed?"

"Back towards the theater. There's a side road half a mile after the turn off, and if we take that it'll lead to a pass."

James shook his head, but he followed her instructions. "You think Doom is just going to let us leave?"

"Doom was never gonna let us leave," she said.

"I guess I should've expected you to put that together." James gunned the motor, and soon they were flying back the way they came. "Pick my thoughts after intermission?"

"Picked Doom's."

The car jerked to the side, and James hastily straightened their course before casting a disbelieving look her way. "You can't reach that far."

"I couldn't." Hal shrugged. "Now I can." She took her turn to give him a look of her own. "Did you think I was just daydreaming all those days in the guesthouse? I've been… stretching. And tonight all the noise just sort of carried me across the space. And with the music… I reached him."

James was quiet for a few moments as he digested this new information. The scenery blurred past, and soon he found the side road. "You think the Doombots are just going to let us pass?"

"No," she said. "But we need to get across the border, and there isn't time for a better plan."

"Why not, Hal? What's changed?" By his tone, he was getting tired of playing twenty questions. Hal didn't have time for a full debriefing, though. He'd have to deal with it.

Still, there was one thing she could tell him. "Ultron's gone."

"What? How did –"

"The Avengers had it out with him in the Tower. He came back for round two with a drone army."

The steering wheel creaked as James tightened his grip. "When?"

"Yesterday. If Doom planned to let us leave, he would've already made arrangements to ship our foreign asses out of Disneyland. Since he brought us to the opera instead…"

Silence reigned for a full two heartbeats before James admitted, "He said as much. I thought it was an offer, at least in part. Should've known Doom would never make an offer I might back out of."

"Yes," Hal said, "you should have."

The Soldier peered at the sky through the windshield, looking for glimmers of movement. "I thought we'd see more resistance by now. Doom has to know something's wrong."

Hal snuggled into her seat and folded her arms. "Oh, he does, and he has bigger problems right now."

The Soldier quirked a brow.

"It didn't take me an entire opera to see what Doom knew about Ultron. Took less to get his plans for us. I got some very juicy bits while I was inside his armor-plated can." The Soldier didn't ask any of the questions Hal hoped to hear, so she grudgingly spilled her beans. "I knew the driver had a cell phone, because he's one of only a dozen or so citizens Doom trusts to carry one. I might have sent some border crossing codes, spycam passwords, and other national secrets to folks who may be interested. Like the World Council. And the Avengers. I'm hoping they get the memo and try to break in while we're breaking out. It would make life a lot easier. Anyway, Doom keeps all his minions' cells bugged, so he knows where he's vulnerable. He'll be too busy with damage control to do much about us. He's strengthening the border crossings I compromised right now and bracing for a potential attack. I don't anticipate much resistance apart from the regular border guards. Think we can run them over with the car?"

"Doombots? No." James glared at the mountains as they loomed ahead. "We'll do better on foot. Try to sneak past."

Hal rubbed her arms and sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. Dumb dress."

The pass didn't have the deep snow sparkling on the peaks, but a few inches still stuck to the ground. It wasn't much, but it was enough to chill Hal's bare feet to the bone. Heels were not appropriate for mountain trekking, and she had to ditch them when the right heel snapped off five yards from the car. She shuddered with every step, regretting her plan to come to Latveria. Regretting not sticking it to Doom and wearing boots to the opera. Regretted not taking the driver's suit jacket. As she clutched her arms around her chest, tottering after the Soldier, she knew that she didn't regret allowing the ghost from her past to come on this adventure with her.

The snow put her in a contemplative mood. It might be a subconscious diversionary tactic to prevent her from feeling the frostbite slowly consuming her toes, but for once her mental struggles were preferable to her physical condition. As the initial adrenaline burst from her attack on the driver ended, the raging headache from the theater came back. Paired with her feet, her agony was blinding. It was all she could do to trudge after the Soldier, and focusing on him – on them – helped. They'd regrown their link, and although they may never be as close as they were before, Hal felt like a critical part of her identity had found a place in her new life. She didn't feel adrift so much now, even though she was far from anything she could consider home. But she wouldn't be sharing any of that with James. It would only drive him away.

And she didn't want him to go away.

She bowed her head, starting at the big footprints the Soldier left for her to follow. It wasn't deep snow. He didn't have to do that. But he took point and shortened his stride for her benefit. She didn't have to read his mind to know that. Other things, things she burned to know, she didn't dare ask. Finding the answers in his thoughts felt wrong. And she was afraid what she might find. Chewing on her lip, she pondered her cowardice. She wondered at the comfort she felt while running from a mad dictator, barefoot in the snow with a super soldier. She wanted to say it didn't make any kind of sense, but the truth was it really, unfortunately, did.

She wanted to talk to Sam.

Groaning, she shook her head. She was terrified of all the wrong things, and if she didn't start paying attention to the things that mattered, her head would make a lovely pike ornament outside Doom's castle.

And, as if summoned by her inattention, a deep rumble shook the ground. A metallic shriek filled the air, and a trapdoor under the snow popped open to reveal a rising Doombot. The metal soldier came between Hal and James, but it came alone. Hal glanced around in the precious few seconds before the Doombot cleared the ground, but she saw no more open hatches. Whether they were motion triggered, or they just had bad luck to step on a scout preparing for its rounds, Hal neither knew nor cared. She was just happy that – so far – they'd gotten lucky.

The Doombot raised a fist, which probably held a small rocket, and pointed it in Hal's face. "Halt."

"Already did," she said.

The Doombot froze as it transmitted and received orders. As it downloaded the new information, a shadow crept up behind it. Hal stood waiting, arms crossed. The Doombot's eyes flickered. "By the order of Lo-"

A metal fist closed around the Doombot's neck and ripped away the end of its sentence. The Winter Soldier tossed its head away as the body tottered and fell forward into the snow. Hal jumped clear, stumbling on frozen feet, and wished she had boots on so she could give the empty armor a good kick while it was down.

"We need to move," the Soldier said. "Doom knows where we are now."

No sooner had the words left his chapped lips than the ground began trembling underfoot, and several dozen hatches swung open. The Soldier took stock of the situation with a half second glance and suddenly Hal was hanging on to the back of his suit jacket as he sprinted away – with Hal bumping along on his shoulder. Her breath flew out in a whoosh, and for a second the Soldier ran with nothing but the crunch of snow and puff of rising machines to distract him. The second Hal could breathe again, she changed that.

"What." Bounce. "The." Bounce. "Fuck!" Her words popped out like machine gun fire, disconnected bullets leaving her mouth in rapid succession.

The Soldier didn't answer as he ran. Hal looked up to see a small host of Doombots slowly turn and lock onto their targets. "Run faster!"

The host raised their fists, little lights ignited near their elbows, and Hal shouted. "James, get down, get down!"

The Doombots fired. And the ground dropped out from beneath Hal. Really, James' shoulder dropped, but only because he'd followed her advice. Hal tumbled, and gravity kept her spinning down through the snow longer than she'd expected to fall. She came to a sudden stop at the bottom of a slope she hadn't seen approaching just as the Doombots' fiery missiles exploded at the top of the hill. The pretty lights made a brilliant echo on the backs of her eyes, and she rubbed her face furiously, trying to restore her night vision. As she blinked away the snow she'd accidently smeared across her face, she saw James up and running towards her. The trail he left in the slope showed where he'd landed several yards away, but he was fast, even in the snow. Hal didn't have time to stand up before he'd grabbed her arm and wrenched her to her feet. As the Doombots' silhouettes crested the ridge, he shoved her behind him, holding his metal arm across them both as a shield.

The Doombots lifted their arms to fire again.

They never got the chance.

A sonic boom shattered the mountain quiet, and a blast of blue white energy struck the center of the Doombots' formation. As their parts scattered across the hillside, the survivors reassessed their situation and began firing at the sky as Ironman rocketed overhead. Doom's minions turned to face their new enemy, and a quinjet unshielded overhead. It drifted down slowly to land in the field behind Doom's fleeing guests. A few Doombots noticed their prey's new escape route and peppered the snow around James and Hal with lasers. The snow hissed and swirled up in clouds of steam which reflected the red glow of the continuing blasts. Trying to cover Hal and run at the same time allowed the Soldier to make very little progress. The Doombots were gaining.

The quinjet dropped its ramp, and Hal saw a bird man that could only be the Falcon swoop out. The figure dropped between the fleeing pair and their attackers. Metal wings that rose to shield them and confirmed her suspicions.

"Go! Go!"

Hal didn't need to be told twice. She ran at a dead sprint across the snow. The red steam rose and the noise of battle grew. Hal kept her sights locked on the ramp. Her numb feet caught on the grooves of the metal, and her world tilted, but a strong arm snapped around her waist to pull her the rest of the way inside. The Falcon followed, only folding his wings as the ramp closed and the jet lifted off. James deposited Hal in one of the passenger chairs and helped her trembling hands manage the buckles before going to his own seat. The engines rumbled as the quinjet accelerated. Sam, standing just inside the hatch, grabbed one of the support loops dangling from the cargo area. The moment the jet leveled out, he ducked to rummage through one of the jet's built in lockers.

"Everybody in one piece?"

Hal craned to the side in order to see who was sitting in the pilot's chair. She caught a glimpse of red hair and smiled. "Thanks for the lift, Agent Romanoff."

"I thought we told you kids to give us a call when you were done at your friend's house," Romanoff said.

"I did!" Hal paused. "Sorta."

A/N: A weird breaking point, but you've all waited entirely too long for an update, so I wanted to give you a Christmas present.

I said I wanted to update regularly, and my life basically went, "Lol! Fuck you." It hasn't been a good couple months. The biggest issue was the loss of a growing niece/nephew. 2016 wasn't an easy year for any of us, but it's using its remaining strength to beat the joy and creativity out of my life. I won't let it, of course, but, yeah. Not fun.

Thank you for asking about my mom. She is doing well. So well that my family has become so toxic I'm literally leaving for weeks at a time to stay with friends in other cities rather than being near them. I'm glad she's doing better, but I wish this could have brought us closer.

This year was so awful it's motivating me to make major changes, and while I don't want to jinx myself again with regular deadlines, I'm not going to leave you all hanging for two months next time.

I am emotionally exhausted and not up to replying to reviews just now, but I will get back on my feet and start regular replies with the next update. Until then, please know that you guys are amazing. You motivate me to kick ass, take names, and write. It may not seem like much, but you guys seriously make a huge difference in my life, and I wanted to take the time to properly thank you. So, thank you all, and I hope you enjoy whatever holiday you and yours celebrate during this frigid season. Be well, and I hope to see you all again on the other side of the new year!