Absolute Gravity

I was standing in the center of a busy mess hall. My team members were sitting together, pouring over photos of Tran's new twin boys. I blinked a few times before the memory clicked into place. Their faces were vibrant. Alive. They looked like friends. Tran admired the images of his baby boys, proudly showing them off. The others rolled their eyes. They'd seen every photo since the boys were born. They'd all grown tired of it. But Tran couldn't wait to see his babies again.

He'd never get to.

"Hayes," someone said from behind me. I turned toward Lieutenant Jimenez. "You got a minute?"

"Sure. Is it important?" I asked. He motioned toward the hallway leading away from the mess hall. This was a temporary space. We'd just barely set up a week ago.

We were in Sokovia.

Days away from the arrival of Colonel Talbot, who'd swiftly take over our mission. Compromise it. Get each and every one of these men murdered right in front of me.

But that hadn't happened yet. My mind struggled to stay in the moment. The pain of that event was sharp enough to keep me grounded. The memory was bleeding.

Jimenez waited.

Because it wasn't him.

"I just have a message for you," he said.

He walked toward the hallway, and I followed after. When we got there, he paused and waited for me to go first. I knew what he was doing. Double-checked to ensure the rest of the team was out of earshot and out of sight. Too distracted by Tran's pictures to pay any attention to us. Not that they hadn't already figured it out. Not that they didn't notice the lingering looks or the quick brushes of our fingers when we passed one another. Not that they didn't notice the two of us slipping away at night.

"What is it?" I asked once we were a safe distance away.

He startled me with a kiss. He went right for it. Because in this time, in this place, he had been able to kiss me like that. Whenever we could spare a moment. Whenever we could sneak away to get each other's pants off without the others knowing. I melted into it. But it felt wrong.

I'm going to watch you die, I thought.

He pulled away and smiled. He had no idea—this uncanny memory. Part of me wished that I could have warned him. That if I told him right now, he wouldn't have gone out into the field. He wouldn't take a bullet to the head.

I could have loved you, I thought.

"Captain wants to see you," he said. "Thought I'd warn you." I smiled.

"Right. Of course. I'm glad you prioritized that." He grinned and squeezed my hip like someone who knew me well enough to get away with it.

He had so much potential. So much life left in him. I was the last woman to kiss him—the last person to see him alive. And years after that moment, I'd fall in love with the man who killed him. The sad part was that I'd love that man more than I loved him. I'd love him so much that the memory of loving him was bleeding through into this one.

"You don't think he knows, do you?" I wondered.

"Not sure. Even if he does, what's the worst that will happen? He cares about this team too much to punish us. Just try to be more careful, okay?" I shook my head.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't mean with the Captain. He cares about you. I just mean—in general. Try to hold back on the puppy dog eyes, Hayes. Everyone knows you're hot for me." I snorted and shoved him.

"You're the one who lured me into a corner to put your tongue in my mouth." He grinned.

"I plan to do much more than that."

"Oh yeah? When?"

"Next time we're home."

"Is that right?" He took a step back.

"I'm taking you on a date."

"Promise?"

"Pinky swear. Go talk to the Captain."

"Yes, sir." He just smiled and headed back down the hall.

I walked down to where Captain Russell had set up his temporary office. My heart began to pound as I walked. It hadn't in the memory. But now it was. Because no matter how real it felt, no matter how difficult it was to stay present, I knew. Days after this moment, Jimenez would take a bullet to the forehead. And years after that, I'd be the one to put a bullet in Captain Russell.

My own father.

The room was empty. His cot was neatly made, but his two desks were scattered with papers and maps. Little indications that he was picking up on Hydra activities all across Europe. They were so small—barely noticeable dots of red. Enough to be a concern but not enough to really understand just how red the map really should have been.

I didn't like to get involved in things that weren't my business. Particularly of the personal type. I'd had plenty of chances to read letters and see photos. But I'd always divert my eyes. People shared what they wanted to share. If something was hidden, it was probably for a good reason. At least when it came to the people I trusted.

I didn't trust Captain Russell. I knew from the start that he had an ulterior motive for recruiting me. He claimed it was because I had the skillset he wanted. But it was like Jimenez said, he cared about me. A little too much. And it didn't take me long to realize the name Russell was an alias. He looked too much like my own mother. He had her eyes. The same smile. She had a brother I'd never seen or met. I didn't need to be a genius to figure it out.

But why he kept it secret—that bothered me.

So I looked. He had letters strewn out over one of his desks. They were written in code, but I recognized the handwriting anyway. It was the same delicate scrawl I saw on nearly every letter from home. The same one that signed report cards and permission slips.

Russell walked in and nodded in my direction.

"Ah, Hayes. Good. I had something I wanted to talk to you about," he said, going right to his other desk.

"Why are you writing coded letters to my mom?" I asked him. He sighed and sat down.

"It's not what it looks like." I folded my arms over my chest, crinkling the letter in my hand.

"Then tell me what it is. Because from where I'm standing, it looks a little concerning." I expected him to scold me for demanding anything from him. But instead, he wearily sat back and folded his own arms. The chair creaked under his weight.

"You already know what it means, Jo. You figured it out a long time ago. Don't think I haven't noticed," he said. That just made me angrier. He knew I was onto him all that time, and he still didn't bother to tell me anything.

"How long?"

"All your life."

"Why?"

"Jo—why else?"

"I don't understand why you care so much about me."

"I care about all of you."

"You care about me differently. I'm not the only one who's noticed." He reached for his water bottle as if he was already exhausted by this conversation.

"My real name is Ivan Weisberg."

"I figured that out already. You're my mom's brother. Why else would you recruit me if I wasn't family?"

"I didn't recruit you because you're family."

"That's bullshit." He sighed and turned back to me, looking me dead in the eyes.

"I told you once that you might be the key to something Hydra wants. And that sometimes the best place to hide something is right under your enemy's nose. I trained you so that you would know what to do if they ever got their hands on you."

"But you've never told me what it is."

"It's in your blood, Hayes."

"Weisberg blood? Then why not go after you?"

"Oh, trust me. They want me too. You might be the key, but I'm more like—the instructions, so to speak. But no, it's not because you're a Weisberg. It's because you're a Frindt."

"Who the hell is Frindt?"

"Beata Frindt. That's the name of your biological mother." I paused for a moment, stuttering to find a word.

"What—what do you mean?"

"You were adopted."

"No, I wasn't. I've seen my birth certificate."

"You saw a falsified birth certificate." I shook my head quickly.

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you asked."

"So tell me the truth. Who is Beata Frindt, really?"

"She was my wife." I paused again. He gave me another pointed look, clearly waiting for my brain to process this information and connect the dots.

"You're not my uncle," I stated.

"Biologically? No."

"You're my father."

"Biologically." He didn't add anything to it this time. It was a simple statement—a confirmation.

I slowly set the letter down. I'd pieced together a puzzle that was more intricate than I first thought. I suspected him of being my uncle. And that checked out. But, of course, there was more to it. There always was. I knew he had an ulterior motive. I knew he cared about me differently than the other members of our team. It was easier to brush off before. When I suspected it was because I was his sister's daughter. But if he was telling the truth, I wasn't his sister's daughter. I was his.

It was too much. Too overwhelming. I didn't know if I believed him yet or how long it would take me to wrap my mind around it. He'd told me a long time ago that I was special. That I had the key to something Hydra wanted. But he didn't explain what it was or what made it so special. And I still didn't know. Not really. Just that he'd given me more than I could chew at that moment.

I didn't know why he'd called me to him or what he wanted to talk about. I just had to leave. I dropped the letter on his desk and stormed out.

"Hayes," he called after me. But I didn't listen. Instead, I marched down the hall until I realized the corridor was stretching too long. I should have made it back to the mess hall by now.

That's right.

This was a memory. Something that happened long in the past.

There were footsteps behind me. The light dimmed a little warmer. Redder.

"Jo?" someone said from behind me.

That wasn't right.

This never happened. I went back to my bunk and angrily wrote out a letter to my mom that never got sent. Instead, someone took hold of my wrist. I spun and had a knife at his throat before my brain could make sense of what was happening. Something had shifted.

The man was a threat. A murderer. The love of my life.

"It's not real," he said gently. He set his hand on my cheek. I knew his name. What was his name? His real name? "I'm alive. I need you to wake up now."

"I don't know who you are," I told him.

But that wasn't true. The memory was still bleeding. I wasn't the same Johanna Hayes who'd stormed out of her CO's office after learning the truth. I was his Jo. The one who loved him. The one who knew a different truth.

His name was Bucky Barnes. Not a threat. Not a murderer.

"Bucky?" I said. His eyes looked vibrant. Alive. Real. "You're not real. You can't be."

"I am. I'm alive. I just need you to wake up."

"I don't know how. I can't make it stop."

I jerked away from him and walked off. The hallway ended. The red faded into the memory. I turned the corner, and I was somewhere else. Another time. Another place. I was in Malibu.

"What the hell was that?" I asked, standing in my bedroom. The shadows of palm trees stretched over the carpet. There was no red. No Jimenez. No Russell. They were both dead.

All of them.

"You asked me to show you," the voice responded in my head. I was alone. There was no one with me. I shook my head.

"No—That was something else. I saw—I saw Bucky."

"You said it yourself. The memories are bleeding."