Status: in progress and will be finished this year wohoo and will probably get a sequel

Unravel

XVI

Whatever had happened, whatever he had dreamed of, remembered, whatever she had done - Elizabeth felt as if James had started avoiding her.
The door to her guest bedroom had been constantly opened without anything or anyone, save for the furniture and the now splintered and broken bedside table, inside. Most of her food stayed where she left it, too, and Vito kept whining for attention.

It would have been a lie had Elizabeth said that she didn’t mull over any and all possibilities. She was nosy and curious. Hell, those traits had not only been what got her into trouble. They were most likely also the reason she got to be a part of the FBI all together.

So now without any cases or mysteries she would to occupy herself with, her brain left her no other choice but to start dissecting what was directly in front of her, or more accurately, the lack thereof.

PTSD was no joke, she knew that much. Even her grandfather, who had fought with the rest of the Howling Commandos, lead by Captain Rogers, and fought Hydra later on in collaboration with S.H.I.E.L.D, had sometimes visibly suffered from flashbacks, she could remember that much. Now, adding to that almost dying and decades of torture and murdering people himself, you’d have the perfect recipe for a surefire human disaster. Only that human was not fictional but a living, breathing man who now had to deal with everything Hydra had done to him and made him do. She couldn’t even be mad about her bedside table.

But in moments like these she thought that maybe she just wasn’t cut out to help him recuperate. She had hardly any knowledge of treatment for PTSD except for the few pieces of knowledge she had had to learn during her training.

Willing her brain to stop analysing the poor guy, Elizabeth closed the window in her kitchen, grabbed her bag and Vito’s leash, and made for the door, him trotting after her.
She needed food, even if it was only for herself and Vito. They couldn’t really live on crackers and peas.

The small shop across the street of her apartment building was seedy but seemed friendly enough. She didn’t feel safe enough going anywhere farther without knowing whether she had someone watching her back. Although - with the lack of attacks during the last weeks - she had already found herself questioning her fear and the way she kept hidden at times.

By the time she reached the small shop, she had thought up an imaginary list of why she didn’t need to feel afraid.

Number one was that the cashier most likely had a gun underneath the counter. This was BedStuy after all.

Tying Vito to a pole on the sidewalk she went inside, nodding at the cashier, she grabbed a basket and quickly made her way down the first aisle, throwing anything edible into it. At least she had kept getting paid.

Since it was only 3 pm the shop was pretty much empty except for her and the man by the till. But even with the lack of people around her she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

Hurrying to reach the second aisle, she tried peek through the tiny space between two racks while trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. But the only thing she could see was Vito, wagging his tail.

Turning to look over her shoulder, she sighed and resumed filling up the basket. She didn’t want to be this paranoid, it clouded her judgement of real danger.

“Ya not bringin’ no trouble with ya, are ya?”

Elizabeth jumped and the pack of pasta she had studied fell to the floor with a clatter.

“What?” she asked with a slight hint of panic she hoped wasn’t all too noticeable. “I’m not.. No- I… I hope not?”

He scrutinizingly looked her over from head to toe and resumed working. “Been seein’ a lot of sketchy fellas ‘round here this week. You’d better stay gone.”

“What do you mean, this week? There’s always sketchy people around here. This is Brooklyn.”

“Nah, girl. I’m not talkin’ ‘bout wanksters. Talking ‘bout those tuxedo dudes. Seem to be on the look-out for somethin’. Been askin’ ‘round.” Elizabeth felt her stomach sink.

“For what?”

“Dunno. Closed the shop each time they been walkin’ ‘round. Don’t think they’re no government dudes though, they’d have knocked. Probably tryin’ to not seem conspicuous, assholes.”

Elizabeth’s breathing had sped up considerably. They could be looking for someone else. No one should know where she lived. Her father and his paranoia had made sure of that after D.C. and the reveal of Hydra within S.H.I.E.L.D..
But now there was a possibility of the FBI finding out what she had been up to, as well as Hydra finding her. And James.

Grabbing the pack of pasta, she thrusted the basket towards the man and pulled out her wallet. “Here, take this,” she told him and grabbed a bunch of wrinkled ten and twenty dollar bills that added up to way more than what her purchase would probably cost. “Keep the change.”

She grabbed the basket again and headed for the door when the man behind the counter called after her. “Ya can’t take that basket.”

“I’ll bring it back but I’m sure I just gave you enough money to make up for one fucking basket,” she said and steered straight out onto the street to get Vito.

The few hundred meters back to her apartment seemed to take an eternity and she only sped up more when she saw the shadow of a man move into the alley where her fire escape was located.

“Fuck,” she whispered and pulled Vito along. Heaving her basket up the flight of stairs, she barged into her apartment, leaving the basket by the door and starting to search each and every room.

“Hello? You here?” she called out. She didn’t dare say his name in the event of someone else being in her apartment. She could always claim she was calling out for a boyfriend, hook-up, brother, friend or anyone else. Everyone else but him.

However, she found her apartment to be completely empty and Elizabeth didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Sighing, she pushed her short hair out of her face and sat down on the floor of her kitchen, leaning against the dishwasher.

Things like that were bound to happen, she had been aware of that ever since before she decided to help James. But she wasn’t only putting herself in danger. She could live with being reckless. But she didn’t even want to imagine what Hydra or even the government would do to him.

Leaning her head against the dishwasher, too, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes to think. But then she noticed that the cars down on the street sounded way louder, closer and clearer. Opening her eyes slowly to adjust to the light streaming in, she saw that the window was completely open. And she was sure she had closed it when she left for the shop.

Reaching to close the window, Elizabeth stood up quickly and shut it with a small bang. It didn’t have to have been an intruder. James always came and went through this window.

But turning around, she saw that one of her small purple notes had been folded and stuck to the fridge.

Confused at first, Elizabeth reached out to take it. However, as soon as she saw James’ untidy scrawl in the front, relief flooded her body and she let a small laugh ring out.

The note said S.R. # and had a phone number written inside of it. There wasn’t much more to it but she knew whose phone number it was and what it meant.
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I'm gonna cry, I'm probably going to see CW this week