Good Evening lovelies.

I'll keep this Author Note short and sweet so you can get on with the story - just a few important things to clarify. Firstly, this is my first Avengers Fanfic and I want to prematurely apologise because I'm from Northern Ireland and this is set in New York and I'm not entirely clued up on the different ways both sides of the pond say things so I will try my best to keep everything American but I apologise if the odd British way of saying things creeps in. Secondly, this picks up after CA:TWS and I have no intention of sticking to the story line currently laid out in the movies, I plan to take it on my own arc with maybe a few details from CA:CW and other movies included. And finally, as always:

DISCLAIMER: I don't own MCU or the Avengers.

I hope you all enjoy the story :)

CHAPTER 1

.*.

"Anyone want to explain why he's here?"

.*.

The last place anyone would expect to find Agent Isabelle Sullivan would be out in the bitterly cold snow. As a child, she had treasured the snow days that allowed her to escape from school just as much as the next kid, and even though her older siblings had tortured her with snowball fights, she enjoyed the time she had spent with her family running around without a care in the world. That scenario involved her being wrapped up nice and warm with a serving of hot cocoa after - not like her current situation, where she was tucked into an alleyway in the middle of New York with the soft flurry of snow settling around her - the only things keeping her warm were the three layers of socks currently inhabiting her trainers and her leather jacket zipped up tight against her neck. Everyone had to grow up eventually, and with her growth and personal heartache, Isabelle had come to hate the snow.

"Any chance Barton?" she growled, knowing full well his earpiece was in fine working order - despite the fact he had ignored her three previous requests for information. A low chuckle resonated through her own micro-earpiece.

"Be patient Izzy, surely you've not frozen your ass off already?" she could easily visualise the grin plastered across Clint Barton's face as he teased her. Although she had been an Agent for several years she was still the youngest out of the three of them - which meant she was always left with the crap jobs in any mission, a set up that Clint relished - mainly because if it wasn't her doing it, it would be him.

"Be patient? I've been sat here for four hours waiting on you and Romanoff to do your part!" she could hear the whine in her own voice but at this point she didn't care, the sooner she was inside the better.

"Don't worry we're on our way," Natasha chimed in. "You can really tell she's pissed when our surnames make an appearance, can't you Clint?" she laughed, "I feel like I'm being told off by a moth-"

"Inbound to you Iz," Clint hissed as he cut Natasha off, returning to his serious nature. "He's just cut across the street and passing you in five, four, three..."

Isabelle clocked the man straight away, crawling forward she shifted herself into a better position which allowed her a full view of the small figure entering the bar across the street, aptly named "The Slippery Pole".

"Time to do your thing Iz." she could hear Clint ready his bow as he spoke. "Give us the signal when you're ready and before you know it you'll be back at HQ sipping on hot cocoa with a good book."

"More like sipping a whiskey." She murmured as she stood up.

"Now now, the mission isn't that bad." Natasha teased, with a subtle hint of warning in her voice.

Discarding what she liked to call her 'sneaking trainers' - and rather reluctantly her tights and three pairs of socks - Isabelle unzipped her leather jacket and donned a pair of killer heels as she hoisted her dress up so that it barely covered her bottom, doing the same thing up top by letting her small but ample breasts practically pour out of her bra. After a lot of wiggling around she was finally ready. Careful to avoid any ice, she made her way across the street to the bar, already hating every second of it. The three of them – Clint, Natasha and herself – had been tasked by Fury to follow this man, day and night for the last three weeks. Every day he left his apartment, went down the street to the local grocery store and came out with a bag - allowing himself a quick cigarette before going back into his apartment.

That was it.

For three whole weeks.

Clint and Natasha had already scoped out his apartment and found nothing untoward, and since he didn't go anywhere else it had left them babysitting a man whose daily routine comprised of a ten-minute trip out and not much else. They had begun to think that they had somehow pissed Fury off and that this was his way of punishing them when the man left his apartment that morning and turned left instead of right. He ended up leading Clint and Natasha on a wild goose chase all over the city that had taken up most of the day – on occasions they had even lost him despite Clint's extensive tracking skills. Isabelle had stayed behind to keep an eye on the apartment, and since she had time on her hands, had decided to inform Fury that their targets routine had changed.

'Bring him in now, as soon as he returns – and make sure he is alive' was all that Fury had barked before abruptly ending the call. When she informed Clint and Natasha, they had already formed a plan - they had overheard the man making plans to meet an acquaintance he had bumped into in a bar called The Slippery Pole, and now here they were, Clint and Natasha out of sight watching her back as Isabelle went to collect their prize.

"Just remember Iz, let's make it a quick one." Clint's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "In and out in one drink, don't be scared to use force if you have too."

"Scared to use force?!" Natasha's incredulous voice rose a few octaves. "We are talking about the girl who dislocated your shoulder when you decided to catch her off guard and pat her on the head Clint, I don't think this girl is scared to use force."

"Right guys shut comm's off, I can hardly do a decent job with you both fighting in my ear, contact me if you catch anything out of the ordinary." Isabelle muttered.

"Catch you on the flip side Iz!" and with his parting words Clint ended their communication.

Focusing on her task at hand, she finally made it to the entrance of the bar - despite walking like Bambi on ice. Removing her jacket before opening the door she strode in, flipping her hair over her shoulder so that the full effect of her dress was on show. There were only three people in the room – the barman, another man tucked away in the corner with a cigar wedged between his dry cracked lips, and then finally her target, who had made himself comfortable at the bar. Thanking Natasha silently for the lessons she gave her on walking in all kinds of heels she strutted forward, appearing way more confident than she actually felt.

"Is this seat taken?" she smiled down at the target, who only grunted in reply.

Slipping her jacket onto the back of the stool she threw her clutch bag onto the bar and signalled the barman. "One whiskey please, on the rocks." She had no intention of drinking it, it was just for show after all – although the smell of the targets own Whiskey intoxicated her for a split second. It had been months since her last drink.

"Can I see some ID ma'am?" he drawled as he lent towards her.

At 27, Isabelle was never going to complain when asked for ID, it made her feel young compared to her body, which, thanks to her last five years of working for Fury and Shield, had led it to feel more like that of a 60-year-old woman at the worst of times.

"Of course!" she beamed.

She hunted around in her clutch bag until she found her ID lodged at the bottom along with her makeup, chewing gum and taser. The taser accompanied her everywhere that didn't allow her to be fully geared up. Knives were her preferred choice of weapon and she knew as well as everyone else how lethal she could be with them. Unfortunately for her, this dress didn't allow her the chance to hide anything on her body. Just as she fished her ID out, one of her many lipsticks came out with it, bouncing off the counter and onto the floor. Cursing her clumsiness, she hopped off the seat and bent down to retrieve it, but just as she stood up, flipping her tousled hair out of her face and chancing a glance at the target, her earpiece flared back to life.

"IZZY, DUCK!" Clint screamed - but it was too late. The bullet from the barman's gun had already buried itself into her shoulder with a force that launched her across the floor. The pain was instant and the blood pooling from the bullet hole was pumping out at an alarming rate. She looked up just as an arrow embedded itself between the barman's eyes, dropping him in an instant. Shit! The target! she panicked. Looking around, she clocked him coming out from behind the bar and heading straight for her, a small flick knife in his hands. Panicking, she used all of her energy to push herself away and towards the door, but he was on her in an instant. She calculated that she only had to hold on for a few more seconds before Clint and Natasha would reach her from their hideout up on the roof opposite. As he grabbed her arm she feebly stuck her own out in an attempt to defend herself, but he batted it out of the way and leaned in close to her, his rancid smokers breath washing over her, inducing an involuntary gag.

"Give Fury a message from me," he hissed, bringing the knife up high and ramming it down with precision into the bullet hole, causing a blood curdling scream to roar from her mouth - one that deafened even her ears. "If he tries to look for me again I will kill every single agent of his one by one until there are none left."

Isabelle didn't even notice him slip away, her vision blurred slowly as she covered the wound around the knife pointlessly with her hand - the pain was long gone. She heard the door next to her head smash open against the wall and a flash of red filled her vision before she completely blacked out.

o.0.o

At first there was nothing.

She could neither feel, see or hear anything - but she could think.

Was this death? A blank canvas dotted with her thoughts?

But then she heard it, a slow beep followed by another, and then another.

"Iz? Iz can you hear us?" She knew that voice and yet she couldn't pin point the owner. It sounded concerned. Why? What had happened?

With all of her might she forced her eyelids to open, fluttering them a few times as they adjusted to the lights above her.

"Oh, thank god." A hand accompanied the voice, stroking her head lightly.

Forcing her eyes to open as much as they could, she was greeted by quite the scene in front of her. Natasha was to her left, the owner of the voice and the hand. Clint was perched on the end of the bed, his face drained of all colour as he clutched at the covers, and behind him dotted about the room were Fury, Steve Rodgers, Tony Stark and to her great surprise – the Winter Soldier, who as far as she was aware had disappeared after the Battle at the Triskelion.

"Either I am in hell," she managed to croak, "or shits hit the fan if the almighty Avengers are conducting a bed side vigil."

She went to sit up, but a sharp burst of pain radiated through her shoulder and down her torso, causing her to cry out.

"Hey easy Iz," Natasha gently pushed her back down. "Don't go undoing the Doctor's hard work."

As if the pain had jump-started her memory, the mission burst to life in front of her eyes - the barman, the bullet lodging into her shoulder and the target ramming the knife in just for good measure. Complete terror took over as she remembered the feeling of the knife being lodged into her shoulder - she didn't need a Doctor to tell her that her knife throwing days, and possibly her days as an Agent were over.

"How bad is the damage?" she winced, dreading the answer.

"Well firstly I would like to start by saying you're welcome!" Tony hopped off the table he had been occupying and plonked himself on the end of the bed next to Clint, beaming down at her.

"And why do I have to be thankful to the only man with a God complex bigger than God himself?" she gave pointed stares at Fury who innocently smiled down at her.

"Because I was the one who got Dr Helen Cho flown in on time to use her funky new Regeneration Cradle on you." He smirked nonchalantly at her as if it all made sense.

"The what?" she glanced around the room blankly as they all looked with slight unease amongst one another.

"In basic terms it took your messed up arm, fixed it up with some new tissue to bond to your cells so that it's no longer a messed up arm." Tony rolled his eyes at what Isabelle was sure was the sheer effort of having to dumb down his knowledge to her level. "We figured you didn't fancy an ugly metal arm like fancy boy back there." he signalled over his shoulder at the Winter Soldier, who burned daggers into the back of Tony's head.

Before she could retort Fury stepped forward. "Now I don't mean to start business when you've only just woken up Agent Sullivan but as you can see from your run in with the target it's imperative we know his last few moments, he was gone by the time Agents Barton and Romanoff got inside the bar."

"You didn't catch him?" she asked incredulously of her mentors.

"He disappeared into thin air, there was literally no trace." She could hear the frustration in Clint's voice - he looked troubled and exhausted - if this was worrying Clint then it was something she most certainly should be worried about - worried was not a reaction Isabelle was used to seeing on his face. As if sensing her fear, he looked back up and spoke softly. "But we will get him Iz, especially after what he has done to you." He gripped her ankle reassuringly.

"Anyway," Fury loudly interrupted, clearing his throat and giving her a pointed look with his one good eye.

She cast her mind back, untangling the memory as fleeting images of him pulling the knife above his head as he spouted his threat enveloped her vision. The threat.

"He said to pass a message onto you Sir," she addressed him properly since they were talking business. "Saying that if you didn't stop looking for him, he would kill your agents one by one." Her stomach flipped. He had proved to be more than capable of inflicting damage and the full horror of this happening again hit her. "Sir, with all due respect, who the fuck was that?" she met his eye, daring him to try and get out of explaining himself.

"Dr Cho reckons you will be up and moving about come tomorrow, I'll come by at 0900 hours to brief you all." He glanced around everyone in the room. "He's more dangerous than I thought." And with that he walked out, leaving them all to look at each other in utter confusion.

"Now, you say I have a God complex," Tony broke the silence. "But that man really does believe he is God."

Ignoring him, Isabelle looked around properly and realised she was in Stark Tower's Medical Wing. As she finished her sweep of the room her eyes settled on The Winter Soldier once again. Nodding towards, him she threw the question out to the room.

"Anyone want to explain why he's here?" for the first time The Winter Soldier looked her in the eye. They were different from last they had met - they held memories, they held emotion - they looked alive.

Everyone turned to Steve, Tony lent against the bottom bed board and rested his head on his hands, sarcastically feigning interest. "Oh your gonna love this story Iz, Cap here fell in love and brought his old boyf-"

"I swear to God Tony-" Steve interjected.

"Ah!" Tony held his hand up with a finger pointed at Steve ready to correct. "I am God, don't forget." He winked at Iz.

She couldn't help but laugh, which only caused her more pain - she probably tolerated Tony the best out of everyone in that room, and from time to time she would allow herself to feed his ego and laugh when he was being genuinely funny - not asshole funny.

"Anyway," she looked up to Steve, beckoning him to answer her with her uninjured arm. "I know I wasn't invited along to your fancy mission with the Heli-carriers and saving the world again but Natasha updated me on what went down. He saves your life and now he's suddenly in the gang? Tony has done that a dozen times over and you would still cut him in half with your shield if you were given the chance."

"That's what I said!" Tony chirped in, lounging on the bed with his hands in the air like a child.

Ignoring him, she continued. "Plus the only run in I had with him involved me being dangled off a bridge by my neck, so, not the best start to a budding friendship." She grimaced as she remembered the pain of the grip his prosthetic arm had around her neck, thankfully Sam Wilson - the Falcon - came to the rescue.

Sighing, Steve walked over and put a hand on The Winter Soldiers shoulder.

"It's Bucky." Isabelle didn't miss the small flinch in the Soldiers eyes at that word. "We gave him some space after that whole situation and watched from afar, when we realised that more and more signs of Bucky were showing and that he was actively looking into his past - Fury decided it would be best if we aided him."

"So, while you three were out playing babysitter to what appears to be shaping up as our next pain in the ass, us two," Tony gestured to himself and Steve, "have been babysitting our own pain in the ass, I mean the amount of arm shaped holes-"

"Tony." Steve warned. "Enough."

"Look, you need some more sleep Iz, we can bring you up to speed on everything tomorrow along with Fury's brief." Natasha stroked her hair once more, smiling down at her. "But I promise, we won't let him get away with this, he will pay for what he has done to you." Her face set in complete determination.

"Yeah come on, everyone out!" Tony stood up and led the way out of the room, in turn, each of them came and gave her hand a quick squeeze before following him until it was just The Winter Soldier left. He went to walk out but paused at the door.

"I am sorry for hurting you, I can't…" he trailed off as if momentarily entering a trance. "I struggle to remember things, they had a tendency to wipe my memory after each mission." His eyes focused on the wall behind her - momentarily she felt sorry for him. "I want to make things right, especially with Steve, he was my best friend," his eyes broke away from the wall and looked down, burning into her own. "He is my best friend, and whatever HYDRA have done to me I can fight it."

And with that he walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving Isabelle to ponder over everything she had learned since waking - but soon enough she slipped off into a deep sleep, her vision haunted by the sad eyes of The Winter Soldier.