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Steve was not in his apartment when the Soldier tentatively set foot inside.
The window was still shattered, and the wall had Nicholas Fury's blood splattered over it, cracked dry wall where bullet shells embedded themselves. There was yellow police tape around the door. Evidently, Steve did not return to this apartment after the Soldier took his shot.
It seemed the crime scene had been left alone since the incident, and there were no markers that a proper investigation had taken place. He wasn't surprised. Hydra had this place on lockdown, needed to keep an eye on Captain America, and they wouldn't have let anything about the Winter Soldier slip through to the public.
Better for the Soldier now, but it would not take long for somebody to put the pieces together.
Other than the damage, the apartment was… nice. He supposed. Steve lived on a corner, in an open space with a lot of windows. A lot of weak points.
Did he approve of this?
The Soldier hoped he'd be smarter than this, because he can't possibly expect to be able to defend himself when—
He shook his head, because that was a strange feeling for the Soldier to have. Defensive. Protective. A strange sense of nostalgia washing over him.
But he couldn't focus on that right now. He was… on an assignment. His own mission.
He didn't look too closely at all of Steve's belongings, meticulously turning up blankets and couch cushions, shifting decorations on his shelves, and holding up items to the light. He found three active surveillance devices and five dead ones.
It annoyed him, the pure audacity of it.
He crushed the small devices between his fingers, throwing them out the broken window.
Then he opened a drawer and found a small dish with more devices, all dismantled in various ways, and the Soldier grinned. Perhaps Steve did know what he was doing, despite what the past 36 hours might suggest.
He made sure to put everything back where he found it, left no evidence behind. It wasn't much of a concern, considering the state this place had been left in, but he wasn't going to take the risk.
He went back to the rooftop where he had first scooped the apartment.
It provided a good view of the fire escape and easy access inside if he needed. Good sight-lines down the street, and a clear view inside if the blinds stayed open. He wasn't entirely sure why, but it eased something in the Soldier's chest, watching over the empty apartment.
It was a good position to station himself. A good place to keep an eye on everything until Steve returned.
The Soldier eased himself down, kneeling beside the air ducts, and waited.
Hydra was not an organization that gave up easily. Even when there weren't any heads left, scraps of its followers remained, clinging to what was left of the rotting corpse.
Perhaps the Soldier was one of them.
Or maybe he was the only head remaining. The one that needed to be cut from the monster's decaying husk so it could sprout fresh ones.
They came in through the front door, bypassing the yellow tape, stepping over dust and rubble. There were three of them, dressed in black, armed. They move carefully through the space, slowly going through each room.
The Soldier watched. Fist clenched around the handle of his salvaged knife, crouched beside the iron railing of Steve's fire escape.
They were looking for something. Clearing each room one at a time. Searching.
The Soldier had a guess as to what.
"So this was a bust." One of them said, regrouping in the living room, "Now what?"
"He couldn't have gotten far." The second complained.
The third one laughed, humorless, "I think you forgot who we're looking for."
The first sighed, looking around the ruined space. He clicked the safety of his gun, tucking it under his belt, "Lets get out of here. Captain will be released any day. We can get him then and get somebody else to deal with the Soldier."
And it made the Soldier angry, watching them leave. Because they knew. They knew.
Had to have known who he was. Why they might have found him here of all places. What it meant — that he remembered something he wasn't supposed to. Something they wouldn't let him because they knew what would happen.
The only reason he let them go is because he didn't want to damage Steve's apartment any further. Because Steve was going to come back any day now.
And so would Hydra. Those awful people. They'd try again, and again, and again to get to Steve. Hunt him down because he'd slain the beast. Cut right down to its ugly heart.
Pierce was gone. There was no handler. There were no more orders for the Soldier to follow.
He'd been thrown to the wind, with no objective other than survive.
And survive he would.
They weren't going to lay a hand on him, or on Steve ever again.
He'd make sure of it.