In the 21st century, The Soldier went rogue, HYDRA fell, but the files of the assassin still remained. The deaths were too big for SHIELD to let it simply go.
Apparently, the Avengers had no idea there were more than two people lost in time.
It wou...
Dedicated to everyone who commented on the last chapter, you really keep me motivated. Thank you
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"So, Johnny." He dragged the name, twirling a pen between his calloused, oil-stained fingers.
William had pushed himself up carefully, feeling highly on edge in the spacious room. Although it looked harmless with a lot of open space and enormous windows, his instincts kept telling him to tread carefully. He was excellent at disappearing, but he also didn't want to be blown up by being stupid. Sure his healing abilities were better than most humans', but even he couldn't stitch his blown-up pieces back together.
He didn't blink as he stared at the man, waiting for him to continue. He was aware that the pants he was wearing were covered in blood and stained with grass, his bare feet were caked with mud and his overall appearance was not a friendly or respectable one. But when had it ever been.
Tony stopped twirling the pen and looked up at him, ready to activate every security protocol he had installed into the house with all of that free time.
But before he did that, he wanted to ask a few questions himself. He was curious but also so very bored. Sure raising llamas and a daughter was hard work, but this reeked of a mission.
Besides, he had a hunch it had something to do with the Avengers and he liked to know things before they did.
"Had a rough night? Snuck out of your girlfriends bedroom window and daddy dearest pulled out that well-cleaned shotgun?"
William pushed down the urge to scoff, shotguns were slow. Though powerful, they were out of date.
"No." He also didn't have a girlfriend.
“Boyfriend?”
William just stared at him.
Tony rolled his eyes "Please don't tell me you don't speak Sarcasm." William was not familiar with that type of interrogation. He wasn't being threatened just yet, nor was he being tortured. Neither was that man trying to intimidate him. The tiny cuffs binding his hands together did look fragile, but the nearly silent humming told him otherwise.
He measured the distance between them. If he acted quickly enough, he could force the man down and break his neck. He looked harmless, but William knew better to judge someone by the way they looked.
"Well? Who are you working for? Because there is absolutely nothing on you on the web, and the damage on your body looks like someone who's been fighting in Iraq for a long time. Now, you better start talking because I have a feeling you'd rather talk to little old me and not the big asses all the way up in Manhattan. And don't even try to break out of the handcuffs, they're made out of pure vibranium, one wrong step and they'll send you into cardiac arrest."
