Post What If...? S3ep3 - Blog Posts

They ditch the last body in a Nevada ravine and don’t look back. There are no more handlers, no more orders. No Red Room taskforce and no Hydra to haunt them. Now they're just two weapons built by monsters, finally turned on their makers. They steal a Dodge with a busted radio and windows that don’t roll down. The soldier drives while Alexei navigates. Alexei keeps one hand on the map, the other on the soldier's thigh.  They cross state lines without purpose - Utah, Colorado, New Mexico. There's no plan, just wind and dust and stolen hours. They sleep in cheap motels and abandoned cabins. Alexei patches the soldier's wounds in silence and hums old Russian lullabies when the soldier can’t sleep. They don’t speak of love, but when the soldier wakes in the middle of the night, breathing hard and shaking, Alexei is there with strong arms and calloused hands holding him tight, grounding him like gravity. Like faith. There’s no future waiting for them except whatever they make it. No orders, no redemption, no audience. Only stolen hours and the taste of freedom bittersweet on their tongues.