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...
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Grey clouds had stretched over the enormous New York sky, nearly mirroring the grey masses that flooded the busy streets.
Dog was sleeping in an old hijacked pickup truck, the windows were ajar as she made herself comfortable on the front seat.
A couple of feet away from the car, William stood rigid, back almost pressed against a new glass building filled with businesswomen and men alike. Though the roads were filled with potholes and clearly been patched up in different places, it was clear as the night skies in Alaska;
Modern times have been built over the old. Cement had been poured over the cobbled stone, bricks had been laid over the old wooden walls and buildings unable to fit into the new era, had been demolished completely. As if they were never there.
But there was a piece of history still on the streets of Brooklyn. Old, worn out and on the brink of collapsing, it was still there. Just a small piece hiding in the towering cement jungle.
The building seemed ancientp, as if the weight of the years was heavily sitting on its shoulders, pressing on its fragile spine, threatening to snap it. Wooden planks had been nailed over the bashed in windows, the walls were painted with unreadable graffiti in a variety of colours. The building looked as if all life had been sucked out of it over the years, the wooden house looked weak compared to the surrounding grey neighbourhood that was made up of cement and glass.
There was yellow tape covering the entrance and Will stepped closer, studying the ghost of a home. He stepped through the gates, or a place that was supposed to be the gates. It was merely a rusty iron frame and nothing else.
He slowly walked closer to the house, seeing the overflow of roses, freshly painted doors, a... Woman in a polka-dotted, old sundress waving at him from the door. Telling him something, calling him home.
"Come inside sweetheart, Lord Woolton's Pie is ready and calling your name!"
She said with a large smile, her blue eyes shining bright as her blond hair cast a warm halo around her head.
William's head hurt, but it couldn't compete with the feeling of loss as he realised who that was. She was still waving, still as radiant as ever.
"Mama." he whispered with weak knees, watching the colourful, happy memory flash before his eyes.
"You there! Get off my property!"
He spun around, all traces of vulnerability gone as if it was never there. He sensed the man's hesitancy as their eyes met. He had been rushing towards the house, but his step had faltered and slowed. He was shorter than William, wearing a silver suit and holding a phone away from his ear.
"I said, get off my property." he snarled. Though Will realised he didn't step over the iron frame of the old gate.
He was afraid. His dull human senses told him to stay away, but he was too stupid to listen.
