Chapter Text
Someone was in your house.
You knew it the moment that you shut off the television and heard a creak upstairs. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for your house to make unexpected noises — in the winter especially, the cold made the wood expand and snap loudly, nearly jumping you every time.
But this creak didn’t come from the walls. It was from your bedroom, where there was a squeaky floorboard that groaned whenever weight was set upon it.
Your stomach plunged as you realized your phone was very unhelpfully sitting on your bedroom dresser. With bated breath you moved to the window and glanced at the neighbor’s house, but the lights were off and the car was gone. No other neighbors were within a ten minute walk.
Maybe I’m hearing things. Why would someone be here? You were a quiet person, you assured yourself. You didn’t go out much. You didn’t have anything worth robbing in your home. No, most certainly it was your imagination, because—
But you had done something recently, something you shouldn’t have.
This had to be why. There was no other reason that someone would be breaking into your home, at eleven in the evening. You bit your lip, thinking of the unlocked windows and how you kept them open with complete trust that no one would be… You lost your train of thought and swore.
Footsteps. Undeniable footsteps coming down the hall. Heavy footsteps, almost definitely a man.
You froze before diving into the closet as quietly as possible. Adrenaline — or terror, but probably a blend — was surging through your hands and you were shaking vehemently. Blindly you groped for anything, anything at all that could be a weapon.
Ski poles! You nearly cried with relief as your hands met the familiar object. Gripping a pole tightly in your hand, you wielded it like a javelin, should the intruder open the door.
Don’t come in. Please, don’t come in. Don’t open the door.
From the dim yellow lighting of your lamp in the living room, the shadows of feet appeared. Checking behind the couch, walking through the kitchen… and closer to the closet door. There was a pause, silence. Sweat clung to your hands as you gripped the ski pole so tightly that your knuckles burned.
And then, the knob opened softly.
You plunged the ski pole forward with a shriek, so hard that you felt it pierce into skin. Without even looking to see who you had attacked, you dropped the pole and dashed by him towards the door.
“Hey!” he shouted after you, but you weren’t listening; all that mattered was the front door and your car keys. To your immense relief, your keys were beside the door on the counter. You swept them up and nearly fell down the porch steps as you sprinted out, ignoring the voice behind you.
And then someone else blocked the way, dressed in black, brandishing a gun. You yelped as he lunged for you, arms outstretched, and out of raw instinct you drove the keys towards him. He stumbled back with a hand slapped to his neck as though a mosquito had landed there, right in front of your car door.
Can’t get by him. Plan B, then. You anxiously turned back to the house, where the first man was coming down the stairs. You barely processed his appearance — some sort of blue outfit with a star on it, blond hair — and began running towards the back. With luck, you could get in the back, then reach your phone in time, if these psychopaths would just screw off—
“Y/N!” The man in blue caught up to you so quickly that you gasped. He grabbed your shoulders with firm hands. “You need to come with me.”
“Get off of me!” You jostled your car keys and felt the pepper spray you had bought years ago, that you’d never had to use thus far in your life; in a flash, you sprayed it in his face. He fell to his knees, clutching his face, and you took off again, screaming as bullets from a car that pulled up in your driveway went sailing by you. The man in black was firing his gun wildly — is he insane?
This has to be a dream. No way is this happening.
“Nat! She’s headed for the back!” the man in blue gasped from behind you.
Whoever Nat was, you had no intention of getting murdered tonight. You headed for your back door, praying that you’d left it unlocked. Luck was on your side, and it opened right up — although, you realized dimly, that could have been how the man got in your house in the first place.
But before you could take a step inside, someone was behind you, knocking you down so quickly that it felt as though the earth had soared upwards to slap you in the face. You choked on your breath, tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Let me go!” you pleaded. “I haven’t done anything, I swear!”
The person atop you was a woman. A French braid was cast over her shoulder, stray red hairs wisping out of it. “Cap? I’ve got her,” she said, pressing a finger to a device in her ear.
Panic took hold of you at her question. You writhed and tried to bite her, but she kept you pinned expertly.
“Good.” The man’s voice, the one from before, was on the other end, but he sounded out of breath now. “Knock her out.”
The woman on top of you frowned. “Then we’ll have to carry her. It’ll slow us down, and HYDRA is already here.”
“I’ll take her. We need to get to the car. Sam? Are you ready?”
There was a new voice on the other end. “Yep. Just took out three HYDRA agents. We should be clear — at least for a few minutes. Don’t let Y/N out of your sight.”
Your heart was beating so fast that surely the woman pinning you could feel it. “Please,” you whispered, meeting her eyes. “Just let me go. I won’t even report you, just leave me be.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman said, and she did sound genuinely sorry. “But you’re not cooperating and we don’t have time to explain. You’ll understand everything later.”
She raised her fist and a sharp pain collided with your temple, sending the world instantly into a black abyss.