In the Dead of the Night || Winter Soldier

Four: Foreplay 101

The ride into town the next day is as silent as the dead. A comparison that, from the eyes of a necromancer, is actually pretty inaccurate. The dead talk a helluva lot more than this dude when they get the chance, whereas he just kept that pretty little mouth shut the entire trip there.

Lady immediately got separation anxiety – not from me, but from the man she has known for a total of less than forty eight hours. Sad, right? You would think she would miss the woman that feeds her, but no, she seems to have bonded on a spiritual level with the man that had tried to kill the woman that feeds her.

Loyalty at its finest, people.

Once we start reaching the quiet streets of the equally quiet town of Stowe, realisation that the probability of me never seeing this man again is extraordinarily high. I shouldn't care too much, right? We've only been enjoying each other's company without the threat of him snapping my neck like a toothpick for a bit over a day now, so letting Barnes continue his adventurous escapade of murder and bad guy punching should be a breeze, right?

Whenever I get the chance – without steering the car off the road and into a tree or building, icy streets are not fun – I throw him an analytical glance out of the corner of my glasses. The whole ride he's looked rather unmoved by everything, eyes fixated nearly unblinkingly on the scenery that passes by his window by the second. No smile or anything, just serene peace in the way his face isn't set in a stony deadpan or resting biatch face, just a normal deadpan for once.

There's a reason I chose the town of Stowe to settle in (or rather, nearby to, because it's a friggin hour drive). The town itself is so easygoing and kind, surrounded by nothing but fields, forests and mountain ranges. With only a population of around four thousand people, most people know one another quite well.

Ploughing through the white, wintry streets now in my pickup truck, we only pass a few people every so often, until I eventually pull into the desolate Walmart car park. Turning the engine off, I ease back into my seat silently, uncertainty settling in my bones. Neither of us utter a word for the longest time; we don't even glance at each other. We just awkwardly peer out the car door window or windshield, the assassin playing with his cap from time to time as I habitually fiddle with my glasses.

"So... try not to die?"

Nice one Tori, I'm so good in awkward situations. I could win an Olympic Gold Medal in this shiz.

Warily peeking out of the side of my eyes, I note his lip quirk once again. "I tend to try that most days."

"Well you're not very good at it," I innocently remark as an observation, earning a very brief and soundless chuckle.

Silence sinks its claws into the ait yet again, but the tension that was there before seems to have lessened a bit more. Remembering my original intentions, I hasten to reach over my seat for my own backpack in the back, stumbling clumsily and bumping into his seat more than once. Once my butt returns to my seat normally again, I unzip the bag like a woman on a mission, fishing out my wallet and pulling out all the cash in it at the current time, handing over the $150 or so earnestly. "You need it more than I do," is what I offer as an explanation when he stares at me dazed, yet nonetheless hesitantly accepts the outstretched cash.

"Thank you." Voice is soft, like it always is when he's unsure of everything. Being unsure of the world, the people in it and their intentions must be a normality for the poor guy, especially when one is unsure of their own memories and mind.

"Don't mention it dude," I shrug, pushing my glasses back atop the bridge of my small nose. "A friend in need is a friend indeed."

That expression he wears every time I speak something odd returns, like a man trying to solve a Rubik's cube that keeps on fighting back. Slowly, he reaches for the passenger door handle, popping it open and sparing a lasting glance outside, before swinging those eyes back to me. "If you're lucky, you'll never see me again."