A/N: Hi guys! If you're clicking on this and have not yet read the previous story, I'd heavily suggest doing so. The story is called 'Promises', and that of course, you can find on my profile.
This is Part Two of a series I wrote about a month ago, and the bug has bitten me yet again. If you're joining me again after finishing Promises, I am so glad you came back. I've got a hell of a storyboard mocked up here, so I hope you guys are in for some fun! Reviews and first impressions are GREATLY appreciated. Thanks for checking it out!

2 years later.

If there was one thing Danielle loved more than anything, it was the smell of her son's hair. She could be mad, crying, hormonal, and one whiff and a squeeze around the belly from her son, she felt completely better. Hunter was her whole world. Hunter and Steve. They consumed her thoughts. They were all she worried about. That was it.

Her life felt like a dream.

At first, she'd been a nervous wreck. Constantly checking security protocols. Trips to the grocery store ended with her on the verge of panic attack. Living in constant fear, having her home invaded, her body, her child put at risk, was something she had become used to. Safety, for the most part, wasn't something she felt she could live in. Not anymore.

It was very hard for her to believe they could remain hidden. But as the months stretched on, and she got used to the heavily forested surroundings of the upper Oregon Coast, she began to feel at ease.

They'd found a house on the cliffs of the Pacific Ocean, surrounded by forest and a good 15 minutes from the closest town. Forest paths ran around the woods, and a staircase led down from the house to the rocky beach, that was rocky and cold and fiercely beautiful. On the rare sunny days, Danielle would spend hours with Hunter exploring the tide pools and making sand castles.

Within the two years, Hunter had grown significantly. He was walking, talking, and strong. So strong. His eyes shone bright blue, and his mop of messy hair grew past his ears. He was dashing, born to be handsome. Dimples and a smile brighter than the sun, and a laugh so contagious he could brighten any gloomy rainy day.

They hardly heard from anyone in New York. Occasionally, they'd get brief messages on secure lines, but even that was risky. Anything that happened, they heard about on the news. And even then that was rare. It seemed, although maybe this was because they were separated from the life, that the world had cooled down, if only for a while.

Their life had become domestic, eerily so. Fragile, Danielle called it.

They spent some days exploring, hiking around the forest or driving around the hills. They spent whole days sleeping, or reading, or cooking. Steve watched a lot of movies. He finally had time to catch up on things. Danielle would often be called into the living room as he pointed with excitement at the battling robots or blue aliens. "They look real!" he'd always say with awe.

Danielle wrote, never publishing anything online, and read book after book. She cooked, the happy housewife her mother had always dreamed she would become.

Hunter liked arts and crafts, their fridge and the walls of his room were plastered in his creations.

As the months stretched on, they even ventured out enough to travel. Canada, California, Mexico in Winter. They flew to Hawaii.

Steve had grown a beard. Danielle's hair trailed down her back. They only wore sunglasses and hats in public. They weren't recognized, not even once.

Every now and then they saw little news stories on theories of where Captain America had gone, if he finally retired. SHIELD made a statement on his behalf, keeping up the guise that he was working on Black Ops, and the fights he was fighting were not publicized. All lies.

He in fact watched one of these press conferences on cloudy day, smiling in spite of himself. All he'd done, ever, his whole life, was work. And yet here he was, with his son at his feet coloring, laying on the couch. He couldn't help but feel happy about it.

Of course, having breaks from the action was not unheard of. After New York, he'd had a good 6 months to himself before duty called again. It was like the world had quietly allowed for it. There were days, of course, where he felt his throat knot up at the images on the news. And as time crept on, it became slightly harder to enjoy his lazy days. Everytime he felt himself wanting to sleep an extra ten minutes, he'd feel a rush of guilt and the whole train of thoughts would swarm his head. Usually, Danielle saw his look of sudden distress, and would cross the room, putting her hand to his cheek gently.

"Whenever you want, we can go back." she would say, and he would nod.

"Not just yet." he would sigh.

That morning was like most. Late start. It was early May, and flowers were blooming outside the windows. Hunter was drawing page after page of different things, and handing them all to his father as he finished. Each one was received with compliments and promises to hang it up when he was through with them all. Danielle wandered around the kitchen aimlessly, unsure of what sounded good to eat. The morning was heavy, sleep still weighed the family down slightly. It drizzled outside.

Danielle pressed her forehead against the back sliding glass door, looking over at the stormy waters. That was the thing about the Oregon coast, is that the ocean was always stormy, capped with white. That morning it seemed particularly blustery. Rain clouds hovered on the horizon.

She ran her finger along a line of perspiration on the other side of the window.

Suddenly, a figure slammed against the glass. Danielle screamed, falling backwards.

Steve ran into the kitchen the next moment, bending down to pull Danielle to her feet.

"Oh my god-" Danielle said, after the initial shock passed. She rushed to the door, yanking it open with a squeak. Natasha lay on the back deck, unconscious, covered in blood.

She pressed her hands against Natasha's chest, feeling for the injuries, healing them as quickly as she could. She was out of practice, and it took longer than she would have liked. Natasha gasped, her eyes snapping open. She was gasping for air, and pressed her hands against her face, and then patted down the rest of her body, making sure she was all there.

"Tasha, Natasha." Danielle was saying, until their eyes met. "What's wrong, what happened?"

Natasha swallowed.

"They found us." she whispered.