Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Where to start, where to start?

That is the question.

Wait— that’s not the quote.

It is now, I guess. 

I could start at the start. I could start in the middle of the story, or maybe at the end and work backwards. But I wouldn’t want to confuse now, would I?

So, instead of starting at the very beginning, I’ll start at the beginning of my troubles. 

***

Washington D.C. , United States of America, Earth.

September, 1963.

The crowds are sticking close together, and the lingering heat of summer makes the sweat and stink even more unbearable. Slipping through crowds isn’t hard for me, not when you’re like me. No, people don’t pay much attention to someone like me, in fact they try to avoid my matted hair and grimy face, so I keep my head down to draw less attention.

The crowd is surrounded by police, scouring the muddle for someone to abuse, to hit, or drag away in cuffs, but they tend to be less alert, at least of me and most of the crowd, because Kennedy is speaking, so it’s easier to turn their anger on actual dangers to their wise and fearless leader.

I slip my hand inside another pocket, pulling out the wallet, fishing the cash out and slipping the leather back inside the unsuspecting victim’s jeans. They turn slightly, sunglasses gleaming in the bright sunshine, and I catch a glimpse of my reflection.

I’m relatively clean, as I normally am when I find the big crowds. 

It’s always easier to slip through when you look like them. 

The generic jeans and polo I have on means I can hide in the bustles of men, men who were only excused from work during lunch breaks to watch the president. 

The stranger turns away and I keep moving, reaching down to collect the bills that mysteriously flutter to the ground, picking up the stray sandwich that wanders from purses into my hands. Anything and everything that is helpful.

Once I had “found” a wedding ring.

I desperately push through the crowd as it disperses slowly, boredom taking hold of the masses, my cue to escape.

I crash into a man at the edge of the crowd. A short man, and not in a uniform, thank the gods. Too pale, and definitely not the type you’d want to see when committing crimes. 

The echoes of Kennedy’s speech about the Cuban missile crisis faded away when I met his eyes.

He was regarding me with a cold look, trying to decide what to say.

‘Watch where you’re going, young man.’ He decides on. 

Chills run up my back, my nerves spiking at his European accent and his deadly eyes.

I want to keep my head down and move on, I really do, but part of me is frozen in place, stone cold still from the dangerously curious glint in his eye.

Say something. I urge myself.

‘Sorry.’ I mumble, trying to push past him.

He grips my arm, his hands as cold as his eyes.

‘I apologise, Fraulein, I did not mean to be so rude. May I ask what such a young woman is doing in a dangerous crowd like this?’ My ears register his words, but deeper there was a sound like turning gears, his mind was calculating and I could see and hear it. 

I’m close to running now, close to bolting, even if it’s towards the police that will beat me to a pulp. 

‘My papa won’t let me listen to Kennedy, says it’s a boy's world, politics. I had to dress up like this so he wouldn’t recognise me.’ My heart is pounding, and my fake Washington accent is fading, so I speak as soft as I can.

‘Your papa is right. A sweet girl like you should stay in the kitchen, where you don’t have to worry your pretty, little, styled head of yours about the world.’ And now my heart isn’t pounding in fear, it’s beating with anger, a fire I always have burning deep down. I’m trying to take in deep breaths, stop myself from whatever I might do, but I can’t. 

So I sock him in the jaw. 

When he turns his head back to me I can see in his eyes I’ve made a mistake. See that I’m done for, and surely dead at this point. 

He grabs my wrist tighter, pulling me into the nearest alleyway. He pulls something from his pocket, a Webley mark, if I’m not mistaken. It looks like something from a cowboy movie, but I know better right now than to think he’ll be a fair player in this shoot-out.

‘Scream and I’ll shoot, fraulein.’ He holds the pistol up to my head, and yet somehow, I’m filling with confidence. His words sound hollow this time, like it’s all an empty threat.

‘You don’t know me, if you did, you’d know I’m not one to go quietly.’ I ditch my accent this time, speaking clearly and slowly, as if to emphasise my sudden lack of fear.

‘You will have to if you want to live. I’m afraid your papa will not see you again.’ My courage dies with each word, burning more and more like a newspaper lit in a campfire. His words aren’t a death threat, no, they’re something much worse this time. ‘The world cannot be rid of independent women soon enough.’ 

This time, I don’t need courage, or confidence, I have a fire burning in my head and my heart now. I slip a syrupy sweet smile onto my features and spit in his face. ‘Burn in hell, whoever the fuck you are.’ 

He wipes off the saliva as if it’s a disgusting smudge of shit that some horse has kicked onto his face. His face now screams “if looks could torture”. The fire is stamped out as quickly as it began. 

Fuck.

‘Down on your knees, fraulein.’ His voice was so cold and commanding I think I’ve suddenly entered the Arctic. I’m scared now. No. 

Terrified. 

Dead as a doorknob.

He looked me up and down once more and clicks back the hammer of the revolver. 

In a sudden fit of desperation a scream escapes my throat and he squeezes the trigger.

The bullet scrapes the edge of my left shoulder and I use the pain to give me a shot of adrenaline. 

I make a desperate swipe at his legs, and I pull him off his feet, throwing the revolver away. I scramble up, race towards the light at the end of the alleyway, all the way looking back, and slam straight into something.

I’m knocked on my ass and I scramble back, looking up at the shadow that blocks the way to my safety. Its eyes are hollow, and the only things I can look at as I hear the stranger’s clear voice from behind me.

‘I am never alone, fraulein.’

Chapter Text

Queens, New York, United States of America, Earth

October 30th, 2020.

I snap up, my attention turning to the door of my bedroom, watching carefully before I decide it’s safe to place my feet on the floor. 

The sunlight is already creeping through my curtains, already reaching out to touch my skin, and I’m ready for it today, ready to feel its warmth, despite the cool spring air tickling my half-bare skin. 

I pull open the window with ease, and climb out onto the fire escape, just to feel the metal underneath my feet, just to hear the waking noises of Queens preparing for another day of pollution, swearing and overall New-York-ness. 

I thank the gods that the appearance hasn’t changed much since the sixties, that I have some semblance of the past left for me here.

But now I have to focus on my routine. 

Get up.

Get dressed.

Make breakfast. Something like peanut butter toast, or anything that has some flavour.

Rush out the door for university classes.

Occasionally slip the cash rent under my landlord’s door in a little envelope. 

Like today.

But instead of it staying there, it gets kicked back under and the door opens. 

Great. 

‘Oh, hey Charlie! Didn’t see you there.’ My landlord’s nephew. 

‘Hi Peter.’ I reach down to pick up the envelope and pass it to him. ‘Give that to your Aunt, will you?’

‘Uh, yeah sure.’ He turns back into the apartment and I take that as a chance to escape to the elevator, closing the doors as quickly as I could make them.

As always, I eavesdrop on their conversation as the elevator creaked downwards. 

‘Peter, they’re not suspicious.’ My landlord stopped her nephew from starting the argument without a second thought.

‘Aunt May, they only pay in cash, they go out in the middle of the night, and they’re always locking their door overnight!’ He lists these facts like they were new to May.

‘Charlie only gets paid in cash, they’re twenty two, and they rent an apartment in Queens. Just leave them be. Come back to me if you get your Peter tingle.’ May retorts.

‘I…ok, May. I love you, I gotta get to school.’ He acquiesces.

City University, Manhattan.

Busy, public, and required no convincing to get me into. The perfect place of study. 

Every day was boring, including the unusual amount of professors that told me I was excelling. 

Like I said, boring. 

Maybe not so much boring, I did learn things, just repetitive. The same bad manners, the same late students, the same shit food in the cafeteria. 

Home.

I clicked the lock on the door, like I usually did. 

Turned on the kitchen light, and pulled open the fridge. 

Food was never scarce for me. 

Not when I had made friends with every elderly person in the building simply by being polite and having way too much spare time.

And maybe a little of my personal historical knowledge. 

I pulled out the lasagna I’d received only yesterday and scooped a slice onto a plate, clicking the microwave door closed and letting it do its magic.

Or science.

Whatever.

My neck tingles, the hair on my arm sticking up.

I wrap my fingers around the hilt of the knife slowly, pulling it close to me carefully. 

I turn and throw it as fast as I can, landing a hit 3 centimetres from the intruder's head. 

‘I thought guests were supposed to be treated kindly?’ His smirk wasn’t disturbing, but it was pissing me off.

‘What’re you doing in my apartment?’ I question, pulling a steak knife out of the drawer behind me.

‘You mean the apartment I own?’ He taps the side of his glasses and sighs. ‘Put that knife down.’ I huff, but listen, placing it back in its place and closing the drawer. 

‘What do you want?’ I ask tiredly.

‘A nice cold glass of coke. Pepsi if you have any.’ He answers, pulling out one of the bar stools and making himself at home. I suppose technically it is his home, not mine. 

‘I don’t have coke, or Pepsi. And you know exactly what I mean.’ I snap, pressing my palms into the marble countertop. 

‘I’m not sure I do.’ He teases. My eyes flick up to his, meeting in a furious gaze. ‘Alright, fine. I wanted to invite you to my party. Tomorrow night. Avengers Compound.’ 

‘So you broke into my apartment?’ I roll my eyes and sigh. ‘Rich people really don’t live by the same rules. Did it not occur to you that maybe you could send an email, or a letter, or even just knock?’ He simply shrugs. 

‘Rich people are the worst.’ And by the worst I mean annoying, stupid, fricking idiotic and a pain in my ass. 

‘Yeah, well. Are you coming or not?’ He nags. 

‘I’ll see. Now get the fuck out, Stark.’ I demand. 

‘Fine, fine. But watch your language tomorrow night. And wear something nice, it’s Halloween themed.’ Stark stands and exits, closing the door behind himself and I lock it. 

Fuck.  

And now my lasagna is cold.

***

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

October 31st, 2020.

I could’ve asked someone for a ride, or caught a taxi, but I’m poor, so—

Bus it is. 

Of course, the bus didn’t stop directly out front of the compound. No.

It had to stop 2km away, and so I had to walk that 2km to the gates.

I stand in front of the speaker, a bit sweaty, carrying my jacket, and thanking the gods I’m not wearing a wool suit and my shirt is black cotton. 

I press the buzzer and lean down to face the camera. 

In my reflection I can see none of my makeup is ruined, and neither is my hair, but what is ruined is my can-do attitude. 

‘Yes?’ The feminine voice answers the speaker, and I recognise the faint Scottish accent the voice seems to have.

‘I’m Charlie. I’m here for the Halloween party. Mr Stark—’ I’m cut off by the gate buzzing open. ‘Thanks.’ I mumble. 

As I walk towards the compound, down the agonisingly long driveway, I examine the features of the absurdly modern building. I can already hear the faint sounds of halloween music, and a classic organ melody. 

I take a last breath of the crisp October air and catch a glance of myself in the reflective glass as I enter. 

Golden horns that sit delicately on my head, a black cotton dress shirt, a castleton green blazer, dress pants to match and napalm boots. 

There are no signs and no guests around the entrance hall, empty and made of concrete and all too similar to the halls I escaped a long time ago. 

I follow the sounds of music and people and drinks being poured, and thank gods I find the party because I don’t think I could’ve stood any longer in the empty concrete halls.

There are crowds, and loud noises and pops of champagne and honestly, I relish in the numerous distractions. 

I find my way to the bar, resisting the urge to give in to my previous habits I took to in crowds.

‘What will it be?’ She wasn’t a bartender, I could tell that much. All of the wait staff and the bartenders had been in the same vampire outfits, and yet she was not. She was well dressed, as Morticia Addams if I wasn’t mistaken.

‘The least alcoholic drink that still has alcohol in it, please.’ I tell the redhead. She simply nods, turns around and passes me an apple cider. ‘Thank you.’

‘I haven’t seen you at one of Tony’s parties before, what brings you here?’ She asks politely, but I can tell she’s trying to figure me out. Of course, I’ve read all her files, and she’s infamous in my previous community, so I know what she’s doing. 

‘He invited me. Now if you’ll excuse me, mingling awaits, and perhaps taking over the world, I’ll decide later.’ I give her a wink and move away, breathing a sigh of relief as I feel her eyes leave the back of my head. 

‘I can’t believe they still have those two ape blacks on the Avengers, I mean honestly, you’d think they’d be smarter by now. Neither of them have powers anyway.’ I hear someone exclaim rather loudly. I turn towards the voice, finding two men conversing. 

‘I mean, the coons are useless, what exactly do they do?’ The other man replies. 

‘Hello men, how are you this evening?’ I ask sweetly, giving them a gentle smile that I’d love to replace very soon. 

‘Lovely, darling, what do you think about those eight balls?’ The first man asks and I turn to him.

‘Oh, you know, the usual.’ I respond vaguely, giving him a chance to say more.

‘Oh, so you think they should be off the team as well?’ He smirks. ‘Good to know we’re sticking together.’ He croons. 

I punch him in the gut and he doubles over, clutching his stomach in pain. His friend turns to me and starts yelling something, but he doesn’t have the chance to finish his thought when I knee him in the groin and smash his face on my knee. 

‘You’re both disgusting pigs of men, and I hope you rot in helheim where you belong.’ I spit on the second guy's curled figure, and turn away to push through the gathered crowd but I don’t get the chance as someone pulls me back by the wrist and backhands me across the face. I right hook them back, making the first guy's lip bleed as it catches on my skull ring. 

‘Defending those useless cunts are you?’ He sneers, wiping away the blood.

‘Better defend them than you.’ I announce, catching his fist and twisting his arm behind his back. I knock his feet out from under him and smash my boot into his stomach. ‘Next time, watch your mouth, you racist fuck.’ 

I pull my fist back and aim for his face, but I don’t get the satisfaction as someone who is annoyingly stronger than me drags me away. I struggle against their grip, kicking at their legs but they just continue walking like I’m a handful of grapes and my weight or resistance is nothing. 

They release their grip on me in a corner away from the crowd and I pull away quickly, backing myself away from their figure. I rub my wrist and turn my attention to the burly figure. 

I observe his features. Blonde, with hair that goes just below his ears, a beard, and dressed as a valkyrie. Thor, I decide. 

‘I apologise for the rough handling, but Tony suggested I remove you from the situation.’ He smiles, holding out a hand for me to shake. ‘I’m Thor.’

‘I know. I’m Charlie.’ I shake his hand carefully, careful not to show too much of my adoration for the god. 

‘Is this the one who imitates me?’ A very British voice sounds from behind the god, or at least the first one. 

Greasy black hair and a matching black cape almost appear from behind Thor. The arrival strides so close to me I can feel his breath, and I meet his calculating green eyes. 

As far as I can tell, the god is dressed as a vampire, although his teeth are so subtly sharp, his skin so pale and his collar so naturally spiked up that it almost looks normal for him. 

‘Dear, we do have a vague similarity. I see it in their eyes.’ He speculates. 

‘Who are you kidding? If I could kill you, I would.’ I retort, scowling.

‘For once, I agree with reindeer games, you are very similar.’ Stark’s voice takes me by surprise, echoing from behind me. I hadn’t actually taken a moment to realise there was another end to the hallway we were standing in.

‘Perhaps, Stark. Now, would you tell me why you dragged me away from all the fun?’ I snark, turning my attention to him. 

Stark is dressed as that guy from Tron, with blue lines ending in circles all over his black spandex. 

‘Maybe because you started a fight at my party, and I want to know why.’ He claims, crossing his arms in that way parents do when they want to know what you snuck out for the night before.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ I lie.

‘Oh. So you don’t remember when you punched a guy in the gut and then kneed his friend in the groin?’ He questions, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

‘Fine, yeah, I punched a guy, so what? He was being rude.’ I admit, shrugging. Stark raises a hand to his nose, pinching the bridge.

‘What exactly did he say to deserve being punched?’ Stark asks, hand still raised to his face.

‘Does it matter? It doesn’t fix what I did.’ I retort.

‘Yeah, it does matter, because it helps me decide whether you should be kicked out, or Mr Broken Nose should.’ Stark mutters, sighing.

‘I….’ I sigh, trying to decide which route I should go down. ‘Fine. I punched him for no fucking reason, ok? I felt like hitting someone, and numb-nuts was a good target.’ I hiss, pushing past Stark and heading down the hall behind him. ‘I’ll make your decision for you, I’m leaving. Don’t bother getting blondie to drag me out this time.’ I call behind me. 

‘If you’re leaving, the exit is the other way.’ The vampire quips. 

I sigh and turn around, pushing past Thor and making my way through the crowd and eventually out into the cool air, where I feel a little less trapped. 

I suck in the cool air, try to sober my mind from the conversation I just had, the one where I was stupid enough to deny defending people I don’t even know. 

Hero complex? 

What’s that?

I crouched down on the grass, placing my hand on the ground and feeling the gentle dirt between my fingers. 

Mist was settling along the grounds, adding an air of mystery to the setting.

I could leave, like I said, OR, I could wander the area, and take advantage of the rich priss who had gotten me into this mess in the first place. 

I choose the latter.

Cold air caresses my skin as I carry my boots, laces hanging next to my leg as each step presses my feet further into the dirt and grass that was covered in dewdrops. And I relished it, relished in nature, hell, I do a cartwheel because no one can stop me. I grab my boots back up and wander further into the grounds, towards a lake. I discard my shoes and give in to the urge to feel the water on my toes. 

I plunge into the depths, the black water lapping at my shins and getting soaked up by my pant fabric. Whispers of a tune left my lips, a soft melody I might’ve once known before the ocean washed it away, before They washed it away.

‘And when your fantasies become your legacy….’ The words were the only thing I could get to leave my mouth properly formed.

The world seemed to dim at the edges, my head began to spin.

I stumble towards the shore, I swear I can see figures in the mist, I swear I can make it just a little further to the shore.

Instead, I bite the dirt. Literally. The taste of dirt fills my mouth as the water soaks through my clothes, and while it’s cold, freezing even, it comforts me more than the anxiety that loops in my stomach like a rollercoaster as I lose consciousness and the world turns black. 

***

November 1st, 2020.

I come to, bright lights immediately making me regret opening my eyes. I give my eyes a moment to adjust and observe my surroundings.

I know I’m on my back, and I know it’s bright, and there’s concrete walls and…fuck.

No. No no, no no no no no. I can’t be back. 

They’re gone. It’s gone.

I try to sit up, but I can’t, there’s something stopping me, restraints of some kind.

I push against them, struggle to break them. I can hear the metal creaking and I hear the bend. 

It’s loose enough now that I can squeeze myself out. I’m on some kind of bench, metal bed, something. It doesn’t matter because I’m off it now, and I can observe the room. There’s a double sided mirror, the walls are concrete, and the room has one set of double doors at the opposite end. 

I hear the footsteps before I see the door start to move. 

I crouch behind the metal bench, hiding just out of view with my back to the doors. I can hear the footsteps approaching and I think of all the ways I can escape. 

I spring up and get to the other side of the room before a pair of arms grab me, turning me to face them, and I meet the face I wish I would never have to see again. 

***

Chapter Text

Hydra Headquarters, Somewhere in Siberia, Russia.

September, 1963.

The cold fingers clasp the back of my neck, holding me in my position.

‘You see him?’ The thick Russian accent of my captor throws me off, but I nod. ‘Good. If you do not obey, he will get hurt. You will watch. Understand?’ 

I shake, I’m barely clothed for the winter, and it’s not like the facility is heated. 

‘Understand?!’ He pushes my neck down and I nod, gasping for mercy as he digs his fingernails into my neck. 

He pushes me forward, onto my knees that scrape against the metal-grated floor, causing them to graze. I can barely feel the warm blood that spills onto my skin, my body’s too cold. Hands dig into my hair, pull it up so I’m facing forward, facing my counterpart, the one I have to protect.

He’s shirtless, scars tracing down his stomach. He wears worn-down jeans that have what could only be blood stains, and I’m not sure it’s his blood. But what draws my attention most is the shining metal arm. Titanium, if I had guessed right. With a bright red star painted on it. 

***

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

November 1st, 2020. 

‘Charlie? Charlie! Charlie!’ Someone was shaking me. Shaking me and yelling at me, but they weren’t angry. All I could do was just stare into the distance, stare into the past.

‘Hey, kiddo, wake up, alright, I need you to snap out of it.’ The change in voice caught my attention and slowly I came back to Earth. I blink a couple of times and my eyes adjust. 

I’m sitting up, in the same room, but unrestrained. Stark is kneeling in front of me, hands on my knees, observing my face with what looks like…. 

Shit.

He’s worried.

‘What happened?’ My voice sounds more confused than I think I am, but then again it seems like I only just came out of 1963. 

‘You kinda…blanked. You broke out of the restraints and then you ran for the door, and uh…Barnes caught you, then you seemed to go into this weird trance.’ Stark explains, glancing nervously at Thor, who’s next to him, who must’ve been the other voice.

‘....Barnes?’ I only manage to whisper.

‘Yeah, you know, tall, brown hair, likes killing people’s parents?’ Stark lists, counting each point on his fingers.

‘...He has a name?’ I whisper, looking down at my hands.

And suddenly it feels like I’m back in 1963, trying to get as much information as I can so I at least know the man I’m protecting. But Thor’s voice pulls me back.

‘Everyone has a name, of course he does.’ Thor explains, as if it's obvious and I didn’t know it.

‘I don’t think that’s what they meant, big guy.’ Stark answers for me, offering a sad smile. 

‘That’s…definitely not what I meant.’ I mumble. 

‘What did you mean?’ Thor questions softly, suddenly more gentle now he hears the anxiety in my voice. 

‘I…I..uh..’ I don’t know how to explain everything. I don’t think I can. Not without crying, sobbing my eyes out. ‘I just…I..’

‘Hey…you don’t have to tell us…just breathe.’ Stark soothes, stroking my knee gently. ‘Barnes.’ He calls.

I watch as the brunette enters. He’s hiding his left arm behind his back, despite the fact it’s covered in a blue leather jacket anyway. He takes careful and calculated steps, like every move might be his undoing. He’s plumper, in a healthy way, his cheeks more red, and his scars more faded. He has a gentle stubble, his hair is cut short, which looks better, kinder, more him, not that I knew him well. 

I carefully stand, pushing myself off of the metal bench. I take a step towards him, leave about a metre between us, and I feel every memory push against my mind. Everything I saw of him. 

Not him anymore. 

It was never really him.  

‘Do you...did I…?’ Each word stumbles off into the distance, like he can’t find it. He takes a breath and composes himself. He just stands there expectantly, like he’s waiting for me to hit him, or yell at him, or…something.

‘Do you….do you remember me?’ I whisper.

‘Should I?’ He asks like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn’t remember.

‘No….no maybe not.’ I settle with, but deep down my heart sinks into my stomach, down twenty floors and as far away from me as possible. 

‘I’m sorry, did I…did I hurt you?’ He murmurs.

‘.....no.’ I manage. 

He’ll never know. He won’t remember. They wouldn't let him, would They?

I turn back to Stark, give him a nod and simply stride out the double doors, like I didn’t just have my heart ripped out of my chest, like I didn’t just find out the man I cared for, I put away everything for, doesn’t remember me. 

I can’t even be bothered to wipe away the hot salt water spilling its way down my cheeks because I just feel empty, like there’s nothing left inside except the useless organs that keep me alive even though I know I’m old enough to be someone’s grandparent. 

‘Fuck!’ I cry out, but it’s half choked by sobs, so it doesn’t matter anymore, I give up on using my useless voice. 

The useless thing that didn’t save you when you first cried out for help, and the thing that won’t help you now. My thoughts remind me.

So I break into a sprint, flying down the staircase and out into the air. And the air is refreshing, but it’s not enough, so I run further, faster, and I bound over the gate into the afternoon light.

Chapter Text

Home, Queens, United States of America, Earth.

December 1st, 2020. 

21:00

Click the lock, check the apartment, turn on the kitchen light.

The usual routine. The one that makes me feel safe. 

Alone. Like I should be.

I slip the pasta into the boiling water, watching the bubbles rise every second. I press the stereo button in the corner, listening to the music I wish was around when I was growing up, because damn it’s good.

I’m going away to be alone. I'm coming back with answers, ah-ah, ah-ah.

Don’t try to call my telephone, it’s disconnected. Ah-ah, ah-ah.

I hum along to the melody as I stir the pasta.

In your own mind, you’re not effective. 

In your own time, you’re still attracted, but in your own li-i-ife, this heart attack.

It’s been a month since I ran, and gods am I thankful I did, to give myself a chance to breathe, to not relapse into the life I swore I wouldn’t, the life I swore I would leave behind with the fallen organisation that hurt me so badly.

With the man who hurt because of me.  

And maybe you hope that you can stay away, that you won’t relapse into using the drug that you crave so much. 

The action. 

The adrenaline. My thoughts echo.

Fuck. 

I reach for the pepper in the rack above the stove, not even looking out of habit, but instead my hand clasps something completely different than the metal grinder that’s supposed to be there. 

I pull down the paper envelope and turn off the stove before the water boils over. 

My eyes press into each word of the letter, and I read over it again, just to make sure I have each word branded into my mind properly.

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

December 1st, 2020.

23:45

I brake abruptly in front of the speaker and smash the buzzer as many times as I can without falling off my Classic 350 Royal Enfield from the force I’m putting into such a simple action.

Before I get the chance to yell straight into the microphone, the gate buzzes open. I grunt something like a “thanks” before I speed down the driveway through the snow. 

I push open the doors to Stark’s office, slamming them behind me to wake up the sleeping millionaire.

Sorry, billionaire. 

He jumps up, holding up his hand that’s covered in his iron man armour. The repulser hums with a soft blue light. While I’ve seen the repulser in action, I don’t have the energy or the body temperature to be worried.

I storm forward and slam the letter on his desk. 

‘Explain.’ He looks up in confusion at the one word, and it occurs to me that I haven’t taken off my motorcycle helmet yet. I pull off the pseudo-mask and hold it under my arm. ‘Explain, and return my pepper grinder.’ 

He’s still looking confused, eyes flicking between me and the letter. Something seems to click in his mind and he looks up at me. 

‘How did you even get in here? This entire compound is restricted.’ He asks, something like worry and confusion mixing into a puddle of emotions in his mind as he picks up the letter.

‘The gate opened itself for me, as for your assistant…. Well, she might need therapy. She’ll be fine.’ I wave off the question like it’s nothing. ‘So please, explain this letter, and return my pepper grinder.’ 

‘I don’t know anything about this letter, OR a stolen pepper grinder.’ He denies, placing down the paper. ‘What’s so special about this pepper grinder anyway?’ 

‘First of all, you’re a horrible liar, Stark. I know you broke into my apartment, stole my pepper grinder knowing I would notice the envelope, and then placed the letter there, to trick me into coming here. Second of all, it cost a lot of money, and it works perfectly. I’m not wasting that kitchenware on a billionaire who would throw it out without a second thought.’ I respond, gesturing to emphasise my point.

‘And what purpose would I have to break into your apartment a second time? Especially when I have a key, and I could call you?’ He returns. 

‘I don’t know, billionaire flair? You’re not exactly known for being subtle, Stark.’ I retort. 

‘Touché.’ He sighs. ‘I promise you, I didn’t send you this letter, or break into your apartment, or steal your pepper grinder.’ 

‘Then who do you propose did?’ The question leaves my mouth as the slightest change in air flow tickles the back of my neck.

I catch the grinder in my hand, pulling my arm around to observe the unharmed kitchenware.

‘I did.’ I turn to observe the woman I technically wouldn’t know outside of the one-minute-moment that I met her in. 

The not-a-bartender.

Better known as Natalia Romanova.

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself.

Chapter Text

‘Of course you did.’ I scoff. ‘Now, would someone please explain this fucking letter.’ I wave the flimsy piece of A4. 

‘First, watch your language.’ Romanoff quips, an inside joke, from the light in her eyes. ‘Second, it’s not much of a letter, more of a file.’ 

‘Don’t you think I know that, Widow?’ I snap.

‘Ok, someone’s gotta fill me in here, I have no idea what’s going on.’ Stark interrupts. 

I slam the paper onto his desk and he picks it up, taking a moment to read over it before he places it back down gently.

‘Make more sense now?’ I demand.

‘A lot more sense, thank you.’ He smiles sarcastically.

I don’t have the time or the patience for this.  

‘Where did you get that file?’ I question, my tone filling with curiosity in the slightest amount.

‘Where else? The files I leaked online a couple of years back. Of course, I had to dig further than usual, had to take a few back alleys and such, but I got there.’ Romanoff answers, then continues, ‘it’s interesting. I think you might be the real ghost story here. You’re more hidden than the Winter Soldier.’ My breath hitches at the name. ‘It would be a shame if that got out. It would be a shame if it was revealed what you did.’

I look up from the floor, meeting her eyes. 

‘I can protect myself.’ I murmur, any defence in my voice is as small as a speck of dust by now. 

‘But we can protect you better. We’ve been needing a new team member, you'd be the perfect candidate.’ Stark offers, catching on to Romanoff’s plan, and somehow I don’t detect any malice in his voice, only kindness. 

He’s being honest.

‘We know what it’s like. And it would give you a chance to properly know Barnes. Get a second chance.’ Romanoff adds.

I mull over the idea, let it battle the crashing waves in my mind, let the ship get rinsed over and over with freezing salt water, and yet, it reaches a gentle island, mooring there, away from the storm.

‘I have conditions.’ I say finally.

‘Shoot.’ Stark waves a hand to the chair in front of his desk. 

I sit carefully and place my hands in my lap. 

‘Not one word of this conversation leaves this room. Neither does that file. I want my online files deleted, and all traces of them destroyed.’ I list, choosing each word with care.

‘That can be done, anything else?’ Stark asks.

‘I want to be paid. A small salary. Cash only. Nothing over 30,000 a year.’ I finish.

‘Done.’ He looks up from the notepad and smiles gently. ‘When do you want to move in?’

Chapter Text

‘We have a spare room with the bare minimum that you can use, and eventually we’ll get your stuff here as well, so it seems more like home. You can stay there tonight if you want.’ Romanoff offers, walking me through the halls.

‘I’ll be fine, thanks. I should get home, before my neighbour gets suspicious.’ It’s a lame excuse, but anything to get me out of here tonight. 

‘You mean Parker? Yeah, he’s the one who ratted you out to Stark in the first place.’ I stop in my place as the words leave her mouth. 

Of course he was. 

Little insect.

‘I’m gonna kill him.’ I mutter, walking to catch up to her.

‘I wouldn’t advise that if you wanna stay in Tony’s good book. He’s rather fond of the kid.’ Romanoff jokes, but I know she’s partly being serious.

‘So he wasn’t exactly lying about the Stark Internship. Good to know.’ I note softly.

‘This is your room.’ She waved a hand to an open door, and I realised I hadn’t been focusing on where we were heading. 

I really am tired then.

The hall has several other doors, with various coloured symbols on each door. Opposite “my” door I spot a pair of golden coloured horns, with various runes gently carved into the wooden door and painted green snakes twisting through the horns themselves, that seem to move everytime I look away.

‘That’s Loki’s room. Mine’s up a level, but you don’t have to worry about familiarising yourself with the others and the layout just yet. Plenty of time for that.’ I stare at her, meeting her eyes a bit below my eye level. 

She’s being genuinely friendly. Inviting, even.

‘Right.’ I mumble, and I follow as she enters the room.

“Room” is a little underrated. It’s a fucking apartment sized area. 

There’s a TV, and I spot a DVD player below it. The bed is king sized, and that’s just the main bedroom. There’s a couch and an empty bookshelf in a small room off the bedroom, and a kitchenette in another room, where the wall has been split apart to make a breakfast bar. There’s a final door on the wall to my right, past the bed.

Romanoff opens the final door to reveal a bathroom so large I highly doubt it was originally a bathroom, before I remind myself that this was made to be the peak of luxury, and therefore, is the right size. 

‘It’s a bit bigger than your apartment, right?’ Romanoff quips.

‘Yeah….yeah it is.’ I murmur, taking in the emptiness, and the size of the space. 

‘I’m going to get some sleep, come find me in the morning and I’ll get you a change of clothes.’ She says, smiles, and leaves me in the massive space.

***

Chapter Text

December 2nd, 2020.

08:00

I’m superheated.

My head is the only part of me I allow outside of the heavy duvet, and I let the morning light squeeze through the blackout curtains. 

Part of me wants to open the curtains, and let more light in, but part of me just wants to lie in the heat.

So I settle with a compromise between the two.

I race out of bed, open the curtains and lie back under the blankets and sheets.

‘What am I going to do with myself?’ I ask myself softly. 

I check my phone, which miraculously still has 40% charge.

Shit.

It’s way later than I normally sleep in, and sometime during my dream state I’ve hit the snooze button multiple times.

I laugh to myself at the stupidity of the situation. 

I trust the people here so much that I slept in, and I haven’t woken up paranoid that someone’s broken in.

No, that’s stupid. I don’t trust them. I was just too tired to wake up, my body wasn’t bothered to warn me.

Or maybe, you do trust them. You know deep down that they won’t hurt you like the others did. The little voice squeaks. 

‘Shut up.’ I whisper back. 

It’s too cold for me to get up, too cold for me to do anything yet, and I don’t even have any clean clothes. It won’t hurt to sleep a little longer, right?

Wrong.

Chapter Text

Siberia, Russia, Earth.

1965

‘Where are you taking me?’ I cry as they drag me across the ice. 

The base fades into the blizzard distance behind us. 

Two guards grip my arms tighter than I can hold a cup at this point. 

As far as I can tell, I’m malnourished, thinner than normal, and every step hurts, so they have to drag me. 

I’m wearing some kind of hospital gown under the fur they wrapped me in before they took me out of the base.

This never happens. 

I haven’t left the base.

I haven’t left my room, except to see Him. 

To clean his wounds when they let me, and watch his memory get wiped over and over. 

So why am I here?

On the ice and snow, being pulled away from the only place I’ve been for however long I’ve been here.

We stop, and one of the other guards pulls an ice pick from his pocket, and starts digging.

Chips of ice fly towards me, but the only feeling they offer is the occasional sting from their sharpness.

I watch until he’s broken a small circle of ice, and sloshing water is the only noise aside from the wind in my ears.

‘Jump.’ One command in broken English, but it’s clear enough. 

I turn to the guard that spoke. ‘What?’

‘Jump.’ He repeats, pushing me forward, towards the water.

‘I’ll die! That water’s colder than the air here! I’ll freeze!’ I shout, but they’re hollow words when I know the guards don’t care what happens to me.

‘Jump.’ He repeats.

I shake my head stubbornly.

‘Then He dies.’ I don’t need to ask who they mean. Their threats are never empty.

I pull off my fur coat, because it’s better to freeze than drown. At least freezing offers me some hope. 

I take a breath and jump into the water.

Needles crawl across my skin, thousands of hammers pounding against the heads.

I lose all feeling in my hands and feet and I struggle to the surface.

I’m about to break the surface, I can feel it, but there’s a sudden splash, a second one that’s not me.

I open my eyes despite the pain it causes me, and I look up.

No.

I gurgle, try to push against the ice block, but it’s slippery, and too heavy. The ice is sealing around the circle block, and I can feel the last of my breath leaking out of my burning lungs. 

I can’t breathe, I can barely see, and my limbs have stopped working. 

I turn around desperately to find some other exit in the frozen lake, but it’s just an expanse of deep blues, no sign of life anywhere. 

I look down as my foot brushes something that leaves an inkling of feeling in the limb.

I scream as I spot the skull, bang against the ice again.

My vision is blackening, and I can tell I don’t have much hope left.

My foot touches the skull again and I can breathe a bit more, like the water I’m choking on has turned to air. I reach down for the skull and I can feel a different kind of pain reaching my body, a sickening electric feeling that fills my stomach like it’s suddenly full of something more. 

I kick up the mud at the bottom, reach for more of the bones, a femur, a scapula, anything I can hold until I can barely breathe, not because I’m underwater but because of the pain it causes.

The changing pain. 

Like something is swelling and bursting under my skin, all along my back, on my neck, my feet, my hands.

I can’t see through the pain, and every time I think I might pass out it stops just enough for me to stay conscious.

It grows so much that I can’t hold it in anymore.

I scream against the anguish, and rough hands pull me out of the ice. 

I shiver and scream, and warm limbs wrap around me. 

Not limbs, wings. Feathered wings, warm and steaming and an aquamarine blue.

***

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

December 2nd, 2020.

12:03

I reach up for the imposter's shoulders at breakneck speed, wrapping my legs around them and pulling the person’s legs out from under them.

I twist and open my eyes as they’re pinned underneath me.

I observe the stranger, who’s breathless, and looking rather surprised.

Male, most likely.

Dark skin, brown eyes, black hair, and a neatly shaven and trimmed goatee.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, pressing the nearest weapon I can find to his neck. 

This weapon happens to be my phone.

‘You know iPhones aren’t a weapon, right?’ He returns, smirking. He’s confident, but there’s a little fear in his mocha eyes. More than that, there’s respect.

‘Do you want to test that?’ I ask, leaning closer to his face. ‘You’d be surprised what can be a weapon when you hit someone hard enough in the right place.’ 

‘Alright, alright. I respect that.’ He lifted his hands slightly in mock surrender. ‘I just came in here to wake you up, but when you didn’t answer the door I figured you were still sleeping, so I came in to check on you and you were having a nightmare, so I tried to wake you up, and—’ he gestured to our current position.

‘Whatever.’ I climbed off him and offered my hand to pull him up. ‘And it wasn’t a nightmare.’ I add, pulling him up with ease as he takes my hand.

He doesn’t comment, simply raises his eyebrows and shrugs.

‘Lunch is in twenty. Nat gave me some clothes in your size, on the chair. If you get lost, just ask Friday to help you.’ He leaves without a second glance, clearly keen to escape the psychopath that almost killed him for trying to wake them up, and honestly?

I don’t blame him.

I would escape me too.

I pick up the clothes from the chair and take them into the bathroom with me without even looking at what I was given.

Warm water drips from my hair down the nape of my neck, soaking into the neckline of the grey sweater I wore on top of a black long sleeve. The matching grey sweatpants are equally warm, and I’m starting to be grateful to the Widow for supplying me with insulative clothing.

As much as I love cold weather, I hate being cold.

I squeeze the last of the water from my hair and pull the hair dryer out from under the sink. I plug it in and run my hands through my hair as the hot air blows through each strand.

I give it a quick brush and pad out of my room. 

I’m lost. Of course I’m lost. It’s not hard. 

Each hallway looks the same, except for the doors with different symbols. 

Of course, I’ve somehow ended up in a loop when I spot Loki’s door. 

The intruder’s words come to mind.

‘Friday?’ I call softly.

‘Yes, Mx. Dagger?’ The voice comes from a speaker in the corner. A.I.. Of course. Stark was rich, and smart, “Friday” was probably his own invention.

‘How do I find the kitchen?’ I sigh.

‘Follow the corridor to the end, turn right, then left. Go down the stairs, then turn left again.’ She instructs.

‘Right. Right, left, down, left.’ I mumble, beginning my journey to the kitchen.

I’m looking at the floor, in hopes maybe it will show me the way, because I’m lost again.

So I walk, watching my feet every step, and turn a corner, straight into a brick wall.

I stumble backwards, regaining my footing, or trying to, and tripping backwards instead. 

Someone catches my arm midair and I’m held in place.

At least until my sock slips and I fall on my ass, pulling the mystery person with me.

I manage to avoid their falling figure by rolling to the side.

So, it wasn’t a brick wall, but holy shit did the person feel that way.

I turn and stand, brushing myself off. 

I offer a hand to the tall figure, who I would’ve mistaken for Thor, had it not been the obvious difference in hair style and physique.

‘Sorry, my fault.’ I mumble, offering a guilty smile as he takes my hand. I pull him up and he’s close enough for me to smell the vanilla shampoo he’s obviously been using, because it hangs off him like nothing else.

The first thing I notice is his combed back, dirty blonde hairstyle, which is slightly long but not long enough to go past his neck. He’s clean shaven, save for a little stubble. I meet his eyes, and..

Shit, I’m staring.

I only notice because of my reflection in those motherfucking shining blue eyes.

‘No problem. I haven’t seen you around, you new?’ He questions with a small smile.

‘Something like that. I’m looking for the kitchen.’ I admit, releasing my clasp on his hand and rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.

‘We’re heading there now, follow me.’ He turns and I meet the mocha eyes of the intruder from only half an hour earlier.

‘Hello again.’ The intruder smirks. I roll my eyes but fall into stride behind the two of them.

We stop just outside the entrance to a large kitchen area, modern, and filled to the brim with food that smells so fucking good. 

‘If you need anything, I’m Steve.’ The blondie puts out a hand and I shake it carefully, studying his eyes. 

‘And I’m Sam.’ The intruder…well, intrudes. 

I shake his hand as well, just as carefully. 

‘I know.’ I state simply, then turn on my heel to the kitchen, familiarising myself with the modern kitchenware and the way the lights fall onto the floor and cast shadows. 

Just in case I’m not safe here.

‘Ah hem.’ I hear someone cough behind me, and I turn. ‘You’re in the way of the bowls.’ He states simply. 

‘Bite me.’ I challenge, staring into the god’s green eyes.

‘That can be arranged.’ He purrs.

‘Are you both done flirting? I’m hungry.’ Stark grumbles, appearing in between us.  

I smirk and step out of the way, giving Loki a wink before I move to take a can of soft drink and sit down in one of the living area’s chairs.

I take the chaos of everyone reaching to get food to observe the area further. 

The kitchen is relatively full of people, and I’ve already seen my share of it, so I turn my head away. 

Next to me, and the lounge chairs, is a bookshelf, where there’s two more chairs and a lamp. Behind me, in between the lounge area and kitchen is a pseudo meeting table, without the projector screens and the aggressive politicians. And then there’s the hallways to leave, the barricading above the stairs and the stairs that lead down but not up. 

I’m interrupted from my thoughts by someone sitting in the chair next to me, the sudden presence making me more aware of my appearance. 

‘I didn’t catch your name when we first met.’ Loki notes, looking at me expectantly. 

‘And I’d like to keep it that way.’ I smirk. ‘You should eat that before it gets cold.’ I nod towards his stew and stand, hoping to escape the conversation I would not like to have. 

I stride towards the bookshelf, in hopes of finding some novel to bury myself in.

Instead, I find a long line of boring science books, that drag on and on about scientific theory and various topics that I lost the patience for long ago.

I sit on the carpet, ignoring the gathering crowd that sits in the lounge area and at the meeting table. 

A breath of hot air escapes my mouth, and I drop my head, staring down at the carpet fibres that stick up and curl in fuzzy rings. 

I look up to desperately search the bookshelf for something, anything, that isn’t a biography by some dead scientist that was proved wrong later in history anyway. 

My eyes catch a familiar army-uniform green spine, with gold rimming. I reach for the familiar pages and my face spreads into a soft smile at the title. 

‘Gods I owe you something Tolkien.’ I whisper, barely heard, even to my ears. 

I slip the book under my sweater, crossing my arms to secure it.

I check the kitchen for any stragglers looking for seconds already, but it’s clear, so I take my chance. 

I hum softly to myself while I serve myself heaps upon heaps of food, remembering that I hadn’t had breakfast this morning, or dinner last night. 

You’ve got my eyes, you’ve got my eyes

You’ll never be mine, ah, but you’ve got my eyes

When you lie, I’ll cover it up,

When you hide, I’ll cover it up,

When you cry, I’ll cover it up

Each lyric traces itself in my mind as I hum the melody, using tongs to place another piece of garlic bread on my plate. Chills spike up my neck and I feel someone’s eyes on my back. 

I glance up at the fridge, which offers a good enough reflection that I can see someone standing roughly half a metre behind me.

My mind has brought me back to reality enough to notice that the chatter has died with the other groups, and I can tell they’re staring. 

‘If you want to use something, you can ask, or you can at least wait politely rather than staring holes into the back of my head.’ I remark, not giving him the satisfaction of turning around. 

I can’t see that face right now. 

Not when he’s still hiding his emotions behind a mask. 

I hear a soft sigh and a step closer. ‘Could I please use the tongs?’ He questions, frustration still heavy in his voice.

I pass him the tongs and our hands brush in such a simple gesture.

Well…..shit.

***

Chapter Text

Washington, D.C. , United States of America, Earth.

Sometime in June, 2014.

‘You understand the rules?’ I keep my head down and nod, it’s better that I’m silent, for me at least. ‘Good.’

I’m pushed into a barred cell and I stumble inside, trying to ignore the cooled liquid on the floor that is definitely not water. 

‘ Ne soprotivleniye, ili ty znayeshʹ, chto budet .’ Don’t resist, or you know what will happen.  

I know not to argue, but I was facing a glimmer of hope, just a tiny amount.

He had been out more, on more missions, which meant that they were close to completing their goal, and I would be forgotten about.

Maybe.

But it was something. A little chance.

I hear the mumbles of Russian the handlers whisper to Him as they guide him into the cell. 

I don’t care what they say anymore, even if I can understand it now. 

This is my role, and if I play it, I can play them.

‘I’m here.’ I murmur. My promise. The one I make to him every time that they force us to fight, or rather, force him to beat me senseless. 

I used to go into a fighting stance, try to avoid him, try to climb the bars or something, but I quickly learnt that meant more pain, more broken bones. 

This time I just stand, knowing that the guards will make him hurt me more when I don’t run, because I know they like seeing my hope get crushed, but more pain is better than playing their game.

It’s my game now.

He throws a punch and I dodge slightly, so it only catches the very edge of my cheek. I stumble back and he takes his chance, jabbing at my eye, and making me see stars already. He right hooks my kidney before I can block, and finishes the set with an uppercut to the sternum, leaving me clutching my stomach and gasping for breath.

I can hear the guards jeering, calling out cheers and boos, but it fades away with a single hook to my ear, leaving my head ringing. 

I crumble to the floor, feeling worse than usual. 

Shit, he packs a punch today. 

Usually I was left there for a minute, and got more pain after I thought it was over, but instead he leans down.

He grabs me by the neck, grip tightening as he pulls me off the floor and my feet.

I kick and struggle, beating against his fist uselessly. 

The titanium was always too strong for me, no matter what they injected into my skin, I knew it was over when he used his arm.

This time I really knew.

I gasped for breath, my vision already blackening.

‘Pl…please.’ I beg, tears welling in my eyes, as if I didn’t need my sight any more clouded. ‘Please.’ My voice is hoarse and I can barely hear myself over my ears ringing, so I doubt the guards or even He will hear me.

‘You are no longer of use to us, little songbird!’ I hear one of the guards shout. 

‘Pl..please, let m..me go.’ I whimper, tears streaming down my cheeks. ‘I…I’m…no..not…going..to….to hurt you.’ I barely manage. I’m not sure I’m even speaking now, or whether I’m just mouthing words and wasting air.

My lungs burn, like they always do, and I want to give in, I want to fight.

I want everything at once and I want it all to stop.

‘S..stop.’ I lose consciousness.

When I come to, the building is empty, the guards are gone, and the cell is open. I can’t see through my left eye, and there’s a throbbing pain in my right leg and left arm, both broken severely, and yet somehow I stand, and I use the bars to pull myself out of the cell. 

The walls guide me towards an entrance, where there’s some natural light peeking out from under the doors. I push through them, into the open air, and I barely recognise the city I’m in, but what draws my attention is the crumbling buildings in front of me, and the colossal air-ship of some kind that’s falling into the lake that I’m only 50 metres from.

Chapter Text

Bucky's POV

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

December 2nd, 2020.

12:50

I just stare at the back of their head expectantly.

Dr Raynor would want me to say something, actually “use my words”, like I’m a goddamned child. 

So instead, just for spite, I stare holes into the back of their head.

It’s the same person I saw a month ago, the one that gaped and stared and seemed like they had something to say to me, but instead just raced out of the room like they had somewhere to be.

Or somewhere not to be.

‘If you want to use something, you can ask, or you can at least wait politely rather than staring holes into the back of my head.’ They remark sassily, without turning around to even look me in the eyes.

I may not be the most polite person on the planet, but I do have the decency to look at people when I talk to them. Most of the time.

I release a soft sigh and take one step closer. ‘Could I please use the tongs?’ I ask.

They pass me the tongs and I pretend not to notice our hands brushing in the slightest. They stay still for a moment then move away, out of my vision. I busy myself with scooping food onto my plate and take a seat next to Steve, who, thank god, isn’t distracted enough with his conversation with Natasha to notice my nervousness, however much I hide it.

He gently nudges my knee with his as he continues talking about his latest sketches, various different landscapes from around the compound that he insisted I watch him do, for whatever reason.

Not that I’m complaining. 

I’d rather spend time with him than Sam or Natasha, even if we are getting along better.

Or worse, spend time alone. 

I eat quickly, stuffing the food into my mouth as fast as I can without seeming like I may as well be eating out of a trough, because I was still raised in the 40s, and my father wasn’t exactly keen on bad mannered children.

My hearing zones out from Steve and Nat’s conversation to the others around the room, which are already boring anyway. So I just stare into the distance and hope no one notices I don’t want to be here, because I really don’t.

There’s a clatter as Thor and Steve take people’s plates from them to place in the dishwasher, and I scan the room, ignoring the two gentlemanly blondes for the most part, because it’s not them I’m worried about.

My eyes lock on the stranger, the one who tugs at my mind and my memories but I can’t place my finger on it for some annoying reason.

I hate that feeling, because it’s the feeling I was stuck with for years, anywhere from 2014 to now. 

By now all of my memories have returned, mostly in the form of nightmares that keep me awake for the majority of the night, but I’d rather have them than forget about my past again.

But that feeling has returned, and I have a bad feeling that it’s going to stick around for a while.

‘What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?’ Sam interrupts me from my thoughts.

‘None of your business.’ I snap, standing and excusing myself without looking back, because I really need a distraction at this moment, but I don’t get the chance because Steve grabs my arm gently and nods towards Stark, who looks like he’s going to make an announcement. 

I sigh, but nod.

The distraction will have to wait.

Reader POV

I watch as Tony calls for the attention of the group, and I take a breath.

I could try and race for the door, hell, I’d probably make it, but I walked into this. I made this choice. 

‘This is our newest recruit, Charlie.’ Stark gestures towards me and I make the decision so quickly that I don’t even realise I’ve given a nervous wave until I’m lowering my hand. ‘Cap, I’ll get you to train with them first, maybe later this afternoon.’ He notes, nodding towards Steve from before.

I knew exactly who he was but the nickname is just a painful reminder that I’ve been playing the wrong side for half a decade. 

Maybe not by choice, but it still stings a little.

‘Charlie, why don’t you introduce yourself.’ Stark suggests.

My internal monologue is yelling something alone the lines of; “OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE STARK THIS ISN’T A HIGH SCHOOL COMING OF AGE MOVIE AND I’M NOT THE NEW KID SO PLEASE SHUT IT”, but the logical part of me knows it’s probably for the best.

‘I’m Dagger, or Charlie to my friends.’ I start, clasping my hands way too tight to be relaxed about this. ‘Not that I have any.’ I add silently. 

‘I’m twenty two, I use they/them pronouns, and if you even try to come near me, you’ll end up with a broken nose.’ I purse my lips and grit my teeth, staring daggers at the audience. ‘And don’t ask about anything personal because I WILL make sure that you don’t walk out of here alive.’ I add quickly.

No one responds, so I take the silence as a mix of respect and fear, which is what I want. 

I stride out of the room and manage to find my way back to my room, where I take more time to properly examine the exits, the vents, anything and everything that might help or hinder me in whatever situation I might find myself in.

I settle on the kitchenette counter/breakfast bar, swinging my legs off of the edge as I sip my tea. 

It’s plain, and there’s a minimal amount of sugar, but it’s warm, so it offers some comfort to me.

I listen carefully to the sounds around me, my own beating heart, the sound of footsteps through the halls, Stark speaking to someone, the sound of paper pages turning, and the occasional door closing.

Part of me always thinks the sounds should get too much sometimes, that silence is better, and that there’s more comfort in that.

But there’s another part of me that will always need the radio on to sleep, like I did as a child. That silence, complete and utter silence is unnatural, and lonely and foreboding. 

And I hate it.

I set the tea down and reach for my smuggled goods from earlier, flicking open the book cover and beginning the story for the hundredth time over, but what can I say? 

It’s a wonderful book.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole filled with ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole filled with nothing in it to sit down on or eat: it was a hobbit-hole and that means comfort.

Chapter Text

‘Mx. Dagger, Mr Stark wishes to see you.’ The voice catches me off guard and I almost fall off the couch in alarm.

‘Ah, yes, thank you, Friday!’ I call, trying not to fall off the furniture from the precarious position I’m in.

I carefully place a scrap of paper to save my page and slip the book behind one of the couch cushions.

‘Be back later, Tolkien.’ I whisper, heading to the door.

‘You wanted to see me?’ I lean against the doorframe to Stark’s laboratory.

It’s open plan, and there’s scraps of metal and other industrial materials everywhere, it’s a fucking work health and safety nightmare, but Stark doesn’t seem to care.

‘Yes.’ He places down the welder he was about to use and pretends not to be spooked by my sudden presence. ‘Your training with Capsicle got changed to a tour of the grounds, you can have a punch up later.’ 

I would complain, but reading often leaves me in a strangely docile mood, so this was actually good.

‘Yeah, alright.’ I shrug. ‘So where is America’s sweetheart?’ Stark turns and gives me an amused but questioning look, while continuing to tinker with some chunky bracelet thing.

‘And–not that I’m disagreeing– but how is he America’s sweetheart?’ Stark asks, cocking his head slightly.

‘You’re actually asking me tha? I thought it was obvious?’ I comment, smirking. ‘For one, he’s got blonde hair, blue eyes and he’s white, he’s practically the stereotypical quarterback boyfriend. Not to mention he’s righteous as hell and has a serious saviour complex, AND, he’s polite and kind, at least on the surface, which means that he’s the son-in-law every father wants, and the boyfriend every groupie wants.’ 

Stark’s grin widens as he glances up and he returns his focus to whatever his project is.

‘And he’s right behind me, isn’t he?’ I add, feeling slightly embarrassed, but I don’t allow myself to show it. 

‘Yep.’ Stark pops the “p”.

I turn and give a mock salute, trying to look way more serious than I feel at this moment. Rogers seems partly amused, and something else that for some reason I can’t read. 

‘Are you finished mocking me, or will the tour have to wait for another day?’ He questions, raising an eyebrow. 

‘No, no, I’m done.’ I assure him, turning my head to look at Tony. “You’re dead.” I mouth, glaring at him as I follow Rogers out of the room. Stark just chuckles and busies himself with another project.

‘Is that really your opinion of me?’ Rogers interrupts the silence, continuing to stride by my side as the sunset begins agonisingly slowly. 

‘Depends. Do you want that to be my opinion of you?’ I flip the question back on him. 

‘You’re deflecting my question.’ He notes. 

‘I’m allowed to.’ I retort.

He hums, in a tone that is both frustrated and disappointed. 

Fuck, I hate it when people do that, like school headmasters after you punched the bully, and they expect you to do better. Like they expected more.  

‘Why’d you join the Avengers?’ He asks after a moment.

‘I thought there was a test or some shit like that, I’m not joined yet, right? Sokovia Accords and all that?’ I’m still being defensive, but a part of me is being truthful, I did think there was more to this than just accepting Stark’s offer.

‘There is,’ Rogers begins slowly, ‘but when people accept the offer by Tony, or me, or anyone else, often they don’t go back on their agreement.’ He pauses, glancing at me. ‘So why did you choose to join?’ He repeats.

I take in a deep breath and glance at the ground, like my shoes might offer an alternative answer that doesn’t make me feel so vulnerable. 

‘I used to know a man, a man I was forced into protecting because he couldn’t protect himself. And in doing so, I never got the chance to protect myself, to keep myself safe while I was saving him.’ I sigh softly. ‘I want to protect those people. The saviours who can’t be saved by themselves.’ 

He hums in some kind of approval, mixed with empathy, and I can see him thinking over my answer in the corner of my eye.

‘What about you?’ I return. ‘Why’d you join?’ 

He gives me a look of confusion, as if he doesn’t understand the question, or he’s suddenly stopped speaking english.

‘If you get to ask me these questions, I get to ask you the same.’ I explain.

He chuckles softly and looks down. ‘I don’t like bullies.’ At this I stop walking, because I’ve heard that so many times. And it’s such a simple sentence, and yet it makes sense.

Because I’ve repeated it to myself too many times.

‘Why am I not surprised?’ I chuckle, looking back up to meet his eyes. 

Shit, those sky-blues are distracting.

He scoffs, offering a small smile. ‘Yeah, well, I’m overrated, and apparently, so are my values.’ He jokes.

I give him a small nod and we continue walking in silence until we reach the lake. 

‘This is where I passed out.’ I note, taking in the landscape now it’s not dark and I’m not drugged.

‘Right, yeah. Sorry about that. Nat has a rather violent way of trying to find things out about people.’ He excuses. I smile and wave off the apology.

‘It’s fine. Surprisingly not the worst I’ve been through.’ I shrug. 

Rogers doesn’t comment, instead just stares at the sunset’s reflection on the water. 

‘What was he like?’ 

I look up from the water, turning to look at Rogers, who’s still keeping his eyes on the water.

‘The man, the one you were protecting, what was he like?’ He clarifies.

‘Hollow. Empty.’ I murmur, keeping it as vague as I can while still being honest. ‘He was a ghost.’

Rogers gives a small nod, like he knows what I’ve been through. He probably does, seeing he’s 105. 

‘I’ll be back in a second.’ He walks away from me, and the lake, and disappears behind a ring of trees out of my view. 

I observe the area, using the lack of people around to stay undistracted.

A little mechanic hum whirs above me, and I look up. 

To the untrained eye, there would seem to be nothing there, but I’m not untrained.

I slip out of view of the device and grip the lowest branch, pulling myself up and into the leaves. 

‘Dagger?’ I hop down off the branch, landing next to Rogers.

‘Sorry Cap, just had to get a better view, that’s all. Shall we return before it gets too dark to see?’ I suggest.

He chuckles softly and nods, following me as I guide the way back.

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

3rd December, 2020.

08:00

I walk into the living room to find a dramatically sobbing Sam Wilson, AKA the intruder from yesterday. 

He’s leaning over my good work, a broken drone that had previously been in the shape of a arrowhead, which is in several pieces, and most of the wires have been torn out and placed next to the drone, along with a sign in red paint reading “Next person to spy on me gets more than a broken drone”. 

I love arts and crafts.  

I pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit at the empty mock-conference table, curling myself into an impossibly awkward and yet comfortable position in my tiny seat. 

I set to work on my food, smiling at the continuous grieving cries of The Falcon. 

If he hadn’t been a superhero, I would’ve suggested acting, because he was doing a damn good job of sobbing over something that could be fixed quite easily, and could’ve even been prevented. 

‘I can’t believe someone would do this!’ Wilson sobs as Rogers whispers comforting words, patting his back. ‘He didn’t deserve this!’ 

I manage to cough out “bullshit”.

‘Language, Dagger!’ Stark points at me with a serious face and I turn to look at him. ‘There’s kids around today.’

‘The only kids who’ll be around are American, and in the public high school system, so there’s not much innocence left to preserve in them.’ I retort, pointing back at him.

‘I…touché.’ Stark admits, sighing.

I turn back to the way I was facing and almost jump out of my skin to see a red-eyed Sam Wilson staring down at me, holding the broken pieces of his drone.

‘Why would it be bullshit that Redwing didn’t deserve this?’ He waves the broken pieces in front of my face, as if I couldn’t already see what was right in front of me. 

‘Let’s deduce this together, shall we, Watson?’ I imitate a posh British accent and place down my bowl. ‘Look at the facts. The letter says a fair bit already, wouldn’t you think?’ 

‘No, no I would not think.’ He insists.

‘The evidence tells us that someone was spying on someone else. The stalkee obviously broke the drone…’

‘Redwing.’ He interrupts.

‘What?’ 

‘His name is Redwing.’ 

‘Fine, “Redwing” was broken by the stalkee, and they left the letter as a warning.’ I pause, taking the letter from his hands. ‘Why would the stalkee break Redwing? Because it…he, either was the means of the spying, or means a lot to the spy, meaning we have two possibilities here.’ I deduce.

‘Go ahead.’ Wilson mumbles. 

‘Either, you’re the spy, OR, and hear me out, you’re the spy.’ I answer.

‘You said the same thing twice!’ Loki calls from the kitchen.

‘For dramatic effect, numb nuts!’ I call back, and turn back to Wilson, who is looking utterly and completely fake-offended. ‘Oh come on, it’s obvious that you’re the spy, and whoever the victim was, wanted revenge.’ 

‘I can’t believe you.’ He simply says, and walks away. He stands on one of the chairs, and looks like he’s preparing to make a speech. ‘Attention everyone! I’m beginning an investigation into who the hell broke Redwing, let me know if you want to join!’ He calls.

I raise my hand. 

‘Seriously? You want to join?’ He asks sceptically. 

‘Oh no, I just have two notes.’ I clarify. ‘One, that’s dumb, and two, you should call it a Study In Scarlett, hey Watson?’ I joke, swinging my spoon between my thumb and index-finger. I hear Barnes scoff from the couch area.

Fuck, I can’t think about him.

‘It’s Wilson, and you know that.’ I hear him mumble as he moves away.

Chapter Text

3rd December, 2020.

09:15

I begrudgingly sit down in front of the two men, one of which is trying to hold in laugh, and the other is glaring at me very seriously. 

In the corner, barely seen, is Barnes, looking onto the scene with an amused smile.

‘Where were you when Redwing was broken at 4:55pm last night?’ Wilson asks, somehow maintaining a completely serious expression.

‘I..was with Rogers, by the lake?’ I frown, looking Sam up and down like he’s stupid, because he is.

‘Can he confirm your alibi?’ Wilson questions.

I burst out in giggles. ‘He’s right next to you, you can ask him!’ I manage to stop laughing, and I hold in my amusement. 

Sam just turns to Rogers, still completely serious. ‘Can you confirm this, Steve?’

Rogers bites his lip to hold in a smile. ‘Yeah, they were with me.’ 

‘Did you leave for any moment around that time?’ Wilson asks.

Rogers meets Sam’s eyes and I can tell they’re silently communicating. ‘Yes. For about three minutes.’ He sighs.

‘And during those three minutes is it possible that Dagger broke Redwing?’ Sam inquires.

‘Yes, it is possible.’ The captain admits.

Wilson turns back to me. ‘Did you break Redwing?’ He interrogates.

‘What would my motive be for breaking Redwing?’ I challenge, holding Wilson’s stare.

I hold his gaze, not faltering for a moment as he narrows his eyes. 

They’re playing my game, and I’ve moved each piece to its perfect place.

Wilson can’t get me to spill without telling his own truth, and he knows it.

Barnes steps forward, his foot-fall breaking the intense silence. ‘Because he was spying on you.’

Barnes is apparently not playing my game, and it catches me off guard. 

I raise my eyebrows, the edges of my mouth upturning in the slightest. My facial expression is partially confused and partially curious, because I’ve never had anyone refuse to play along.

Usually because I have something on them that they don’t want revealed.

I’m not offended. In fact, I’m surprised. 

So, I play it off with a shrug.

‘I know.’ My head dips to the side, giving him a “It was kinda obvious” look. ‘I broke Redwing.’ I confess.

‘I knew it!’ Wilson stands in his accusation. ‘And you!’ He turns to Barnes. ‘You were spying with me, don’t deny it! Steve’s my witness, he caught us both, so there’s no turning back.’ He argues.

‘I admit it, I was spying just as much as you were.’ Barnes shrugs and catches my eye, winking quickly. 

I’m caught way more off guard this time, and I look down, biting the inside of my cheek.

‘May I leave now?’ I question, changing the subject.

‘Yeah, you can go.’  Rogers dismisses me before the situation can get any more out of hand.

10:22

I’m sitting in the living area, trying to be relatively sociable, but it’s failing, because I’m already reading “The Hobbit”, and there’s not much interesting conversation happening anyway, because half of the group are off training, and the other half either have their own things to do, or would rather not talk to me, and part of me is thankful for it, because I really just have a bunch of couches to myself. 

Great, company.  

The only reason I know is because of the footsteps approaching up the stairs, and the two, no, three, sets of voices that move with them.

I busy myself with my book, hoping that my occupied appearance will get whoever it is to leave me alone. 

‘Yeah, Mr Stark, so I’ve been rebuilding the lego millennium falcon I got for my birthday because I accidentally smashed it and–’ the teen trails off.

I turn, making direct eye contact with him. 

‘You.’ I accuse, narrowing my eyes and standing as Parker gulps slightly. ‘You slimy little traitorous rascal!’ I stalk towards Stark and a redhead who I can only assume is Pepper Potts, who take slightly more defensive poses in front of the kid.

‘I am going to squash you like the little bug you are,’ I threaten, pushing past the two adults and standing over Parker, who tries to make himself look big. ‘Or rather, the spider you are.’ I lunge towards him and manage to catch his arm in my grasp. 

I pull the kid towards me, reaching under his ribs to tickle him until he squirms hard enough that I drop him and he escapes my clutches. 

I look up to see genuine looks of confusion and surprise on the two adults' faces. I smile awkwardly and compose myself, helping Parker up with a hand.

‘Next time you rat me out, I’m snitching on you AND putting a paint bomb in your lego sets.’ I threaten.

‘Ok, ok.’ He squeaks, but there’s a teasing smile behind it.

‘Anyway,’ I gulp away a smile, ‘I better be going. Good luck with…..whatever it is you’re doing.’ I excuse myself and escape to my room.

Which, surprisingly, isn’t empty.

Silently, tapping away at his laptop, is Sam Wilson, sitting on my couch in the room with the empty bookshelf.

I lean against the door frame and take in an unintentionally sharp breath.

‘What are you doing here?’ He jumps about half a metre and immediately races out the door, past me, as if he has somewhere to be urgently. 

So urgently that he’s left his laptop on the couch.

I pick up the device, curious to see what’s so secret and private that he had to be in here, rather than literally anywhere else.

Ok, that sounds creepy and slightly stalker-ish, but in my defence, it is MY room, and he did spy on me before, so….

My eyes skim over each word on the document he has open and I can’t help them widening.

‘Shit, forgot my – hey!’ Wilson snatches the computer from my hands.

‘What the actual fuck…’ I mumble as I try to process what I read.

‘It’s……..it’s not what you think!’ Wilson stammers. ‘It’s…just as a…a prank?’

‘You’re a horrible liar.’ I remark, frowning gently. ‘Why are you writing Stucky fanfic?’ 

‘I – wait, how do you know their ship name?’

‘Why are you writing about two of your closest friends being in love?’ I retort.

‘I started it as a joke, alright? But it got good feedback when I posted it, and an online friend suggested I write more –’ He sighs. ‘Look, I’m really embarrassed about it, that’s why I was writing in here.’ He admits.

I consider this. ‘You may continue writing in here, if you allow me to edit. You have horrible formatting skills.’ I compromise.

‘Deal.’ He sticks his hand out. ‘Thank you, Charlie.’ 

‘It’s – no worries.’ I scrap correcting him to using my last name. I need someone to talk to anyway.

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

17th December, 2020.

14:00

‘Oh! Before I forget,’ Stark taps my shoulder, leaning down to pass me something. I accept the slip after closing my book. ‘Your first pay check.’

‘You’re paying me already? I’ve literally done nothing but sit around and explore the compound for the past two weeks.’ I frown.

‘Yeah, but you signed the Accords, which means our deal is official, and I owe you a fortnightly salary.’ Stark shrugged, taking a seat next to me. 

I took a moment to look down at the pay check. In neat writing it has “One thousand, one hundred and fifty dollars, and sixty-eight cents” under the area where the payment number is. 

I turn to look at Stark, who is holding a large black top hat for some reason, and fishing around in it. I can hear the rustling of paper, so clearly it’s for some stupid game he’s going to insist we do.

Outside the window, the ground is being pounded with snow as the biggest snow storm in years has hit the state. There’s mounds of the frozen water everywhere and part of me is tempted to walk out into the winter wonderland, but I’d rather not be left on ice again. 

‘Steve, do you know where “The Hobbit” went?’ I turn my head to see Barnes crouching down at the bookshelf, straining to see if he can find the missing book.

‘You’re reading it again?’ Sam complains, winking at me while Barnes isn’t looking.

‘Shut up, Wilson, I didn’t ask you.’ Barnes mumbles. ‘Steve?’ He looks up, scanning the room for Rogers, who’s buried his nose in his sketchbook. ‘Steve!’ 

Rogers looks up from his drawing pad. ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Have you seen “The Hobbit”?’ Barnes repeats not-so-patiently.

Rogers frowns confusedly. ‘I thought you didn’t start re-reading the series until New Years?’ 

‘I decided to start early this year. I'm finally going to read “The Silmarillion” too. Assuming I can actually find a copy.’ Barnes clarifies. ‘Have you seen it or not?’ 

‘Sorry, Buck. I haven’t seen it since you last read it.’ Rogers replies, turning back to his art.

‘You’re hopeless.’ Barnes sighs, turning back to the bookshelf. 

Sam meets my eyes and we share a smile. I open up my book again, but don’t get the chance to read more than a sentence before Tony clears his throat.

‘Alright people, listen up!’ He shouts, standing on his seat. The others gather together, and I realise the group has grown. 

We’ve been joined by most of the people who had been on missions, apparently villains took a break over the holiday period. 

I notice Wanda Maximoff, The Vision, Clint Barton, Yelena Belova and the newest recruit who had apparently been caught up in a bunch of stuff with Barton, Kate Bishop.

‘As per usual, we’re doing our normal Secret Santa slash Kris Kringle. Pull a name people, one at a time!’ He calls, shaking the hat.

Most of the people rush forward, taking a piece of paper and walking away to steal a look at who they have to buy a present for. 

I wait till it’s only Tony and I left and I take the final folded piece.

It's fine. I tell myself. You can do this, just buy them a chocolate bar or…nope!

My brain goes into full panic mode as I read the name. 

“James B. Barnes” is written in Stark’s neat handwriting on the unfolded paper.

You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.  

I scan the room for Sam, who’s chatting cheerily with Rogers and Barnes, trying to see who each of them got.

So he was out.

I locate Loki on the opposite side of the room.

While he and I hadn’t gotten as close as I had with Tony, Sam, or Natasha, I’d still had a few interesting conversations about various mythological stories with them.

I would drag him away here and now, but he’s in deep discussion with his brother, and I’d rather not be impolite. 

Which leaves me with either Tony or Natasha.

Stark has disappeared, along with Ms Potts, presumably to discuss something in private. Which is good for me, because Stark wasn’t incredibly helpful when it came to Barnes.

Natasha is talking with Yelena, who looks like she wants to escape the conversation before she dies of embarrassment. 

I stride over to the two.

‘Hey guys. Yelena, do you mind if I steal Nat for a moment?’ I ask politely.

‘Please,’ She practically begged.

I offer Belova a small smile and gently grab Nat’s forearm, dragging her out of the room.

‘What do you–’

‘Not here.’ I urge. She doesn’t question it. 

Somehow, we’ve gotten to know each other so well in the span of two weeks that neither one of us questions when the other insists on privacy for a conversation. 

I slam my apartment door closed and Nat takes her seat on the kitchen counter. 

‘What’s up, you look like you’re about to explode.’ She remarks, earning a glare that makes her grin drop. ‘Ok, seriously, what’s up?’ 

‘I got fucking Barnes!’ I exclaim in annoyance. ‘I just had to pull the last name, and it was his!’ 

‘Ok, slow down. Do you mean you got him for secret santa?’ I nod grimly. ‘So just give him a notepad or something! He probably won’t give two shits.’ Nat suggests.

‘But it’s….’ I gesture wildly, ‘him! I…..I can’t just give him some second hand scarf or something, that’d be rude!’ I sit on my bed.

‘Listen, you’re overthinking this, you’ll think of something in a day or two. I’m sure it’ll be perfect. Maybe a Captain America shirt or something.’ She sighs, shaking her head.

At least now my room doesn't have such an emptiness to it and I can actually think.

The bookshelf has been filled, the couch has cushions, the kitchenette has more of my kitchen stuff and I have my own paintings and posters on the walls.

Plus, I have my own clothes to wear.

So there’s that.

Maybe Nat’s right. I’m sure I'll think of something.

***

24th December, 2020.

10:38

‘I don’t have a FUCKING present guys! And it’s Christmas Eve! What the fuck am I going to do?!’ 

‘Calm down, Charlie. Just give him a block of chocolate. That’s what I’m doing!’ Nat assures me.

‘Oh, so if I receive a block of Toblerone I’ll know who to throw it at.’ Sam jokes, earning an “exactly” from Natasha.

‘Guys!! I’m serious, it’s Christmas Eve and I don’t know what to get him, let alone bought the damn thing yet.’ I whine, flopping back on Sam’s bed in defeat.

Usually we rotate between each other’s apartments, and it just so happens that Sam’s is the one we chose for today. Nat was scheduled to leave with Yelena to go to her family for Christmas Day (in rural Poland, mind you, so it was fucking freezing there), and Sam’s sister and nephews were arriving late this afternoon from Louisiana. So we were attempting to spend an hour playing cards together before the holiday split, but that quickly turned into a conversation about my failed santa duties.

‘Is this really about not knowing what to get Barnes, or is it about not knowing the right thing to get him?’ Nat challenges, and I can hear her smirk.

A groan releases from my lungs.

‘I agree with Nat, Charlie, I think you know exactly what to get him, you’re just too busy pining over him that you’re anxious he won’t like it!’ Sam taunts, poking my foot. 

I make a half assed attempt to kick him, but it barely lands.

‘I AM NOT pining!’ I resist, annoyance heavy in my voice. ‘It doesn’t matter if I know what to get him, because it’s Christmas Eve! Only fools shop today, because there’s nothing left in any store!’

‘Depends on what you wanna get him, I –’ Natasha is cut off by her alarm to leave for her plane. ‘I’ve gotta go, but I'll leave you in the capable hands of Sam. Good luck!’ I barely have time to react before she rushes out the door. 

‘Yes, very capable hands.’ I grumble. ‘Bye.’ This time Sam actually slaps my foot. ‘Ow! Ok, I’m sorry!’

I shuffle back on the bed so my head is leaning over the opposite side, giving me an upside down view of the outside world through the window. 

The snow has continued to fall every day since the 17th, and it’s left a frozen blanket across every part of the ground, except for the heavily-salted driveway. The only ones crazy enough to go out there are the Barton kids, who arrived yesterday, me, and Barnes and Rogers.

The only reason I know about their walks through the 20cm deep snow is because Sam walks into my room every morning at 7:00am to complain of no one to talk to during breakfast. Especially because he’s too scared to wake up Romanoff.

So he wakes me up instead.

The falling snow sparks a tiny little idea.

Or rather, the trees that seem to move on their own through all of the hazy weather. 

‘Hey Sam?’ I sit up. ‘Do you know any good bookstores that are open today?’ I ask.

He grins. ‘Thought you’d never ask.’

Chapter Text

11:15

The shop smells of must, and it’s dimly lit with a flickering chandelier. The way it’s structured quite clearly shows that the building was squished into an alley sometime in the mid 1800s, and seemed like it had been in the same ownership and paint job since then.

The peeling paint and rusty railings to the upper level didn’t bother me, in fact, it added character in my opinion. The shelves were stacked with books, with old and new spines, quite purposely ordered by author name and genre. 

For some reason there was a desk on the lower level, with an empty wine bottle, and several papers there, but the official purchase desk was upstairs. Next to the desk was a neatly arranged chess set, with every piece in its perfect place.

‘Just be aware of the owner, he’s a little eccentric.’ Sam whispers, giving me a small smirk as if he knew exactly what was going to happen. 

I pick out the book set, with fading spines, and partially ripped paper covering the hardcover books. The final book that I need is in better condition than the others, as it is younger, and was released later, but it still has the same smell as its cousins from sitting there so long.

I carry the 9kg worth of books up to the front desk, gently placing them down with a thump that clears the dust off of the bench.

‘Hello?’ I call after a moment, ringing the little bell. 

I hear soft footsteps racing up the steps and turn to see a short and pleasantly plump man with spiky white hair and a clean shaven face panting to race around to the other side of the desk. He’s wearing a soft copley-grey coat, and a beige waistcoat over a blue button up. His face is slightly pink, but not overly so, and his skin is a gentle cream colour.

He’s exactly who you'd expect to own a bookshop.

‘I’m sorry for the wait, would you like to purchase these?’ His accent catches me off guard. He’s clearly some kind of posh British, but not rudely so.

‘I…yes.’ I nod gently.

‘Lovely. And would you like a bag?’ He asks, smiling up at me.

‘No, no I’m ok, thank you.’

‘Alright. That’ll be one hundred and three dollars and…..five cents.’ He rounds on a calculator.

‘Thank you.’ I pass him the cash and he clicks the antique register, placing each note and coin in its perfect place. I take each book and stack it neatly in my leather bag. 

‘I hope you’re not overcharging them, Aziraphale.’ Sam teases, coming up the stairs.

“Aziraphale” seems offended at the notion, despite knowing it’s a joke. ‘I would never.’ He beams, passing me a handwritten receipt. ‘Feel free to come back anytime. I’m open every day except Christmas Day and Sundays. But for a friend of Samuel’s, I’m sure I can make an exception on Sunday. You’re very welcome to just read here as well, it’s just as much a library as a bookshop.’ He offers.

‘Thank you, I’m sure you’ll see me very soon.’ I promise. He nods and Sam makes to leave, but I feel the urge to stop for a moment. ‘Aziraphale,’ I turn back to the store-owner, ‘like the angel, right?’ 

The book-keeper lets out a short, sweet laugh. ‘Exactly like that, my dear.’ He winks as I turn back to Sam, following him out the door and into the snowy cold.

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

December 25th, 2020.

07:00

Shit. 

I’m staring.  

I fucking know I’m staring at kids playing in the snow. 

The Barton kids joined with the Wilson kids and they’ve declared an all out snowball war while they wait for the adults to wake up for Christmas presents. 

And I was dragged into supervision duty with Rogers because Stark declared it “good bonding time”. 

Of course, being Christmas Eve last night and Sam having to pick up his family, he never got the message that I’m stuck and desperately need help to escape this awkward situation. 

Rogers would’ve given in to the children’s begging to join the Wilson team, had he not been adamant about making sure the game was relatively fair. 

So Cooper Barton sat out (quite willingly I’ll note).

‘No head shots, Aj!’ Rogers calls, sitting down in the snow next to me.

I break my staring at the children, trying to push away the jealousy at the fact they still get to play like this when at their age I could barely stand from lack of warmth in my clothes. 

We sit in silence, except for the occasional shouts from either side when hit, and Cooper refereeing now that he’d been hit, and therefore was more awake and as furious as ever. 

The soft sigh leaving the captain’s lips breaks the relatively peaceful silence. ‘I read your file yesterday.’ I force myself not to stiffen at his words. ‘And….surprisingly, there wasn’t much to see.’ 

I get my body to shrug gently. ‘I don’t have much of a past.’ Liar.

‘That’s what I’m worried about.’ He admits. 

‘I know you’re here for Buck.’ I can’t stop my body's reaction to this. I stiffen completely, and I force myself not to get lost in memories. ‘If he…if the winter soldier hurt you, that’s not him anymore. Killing him won’t fix anything. Nor will hurting him. I swear to god if you do….’

‘I’m not here to hurt him.’ I whisper softly, staring at the snowball I’ve formed in my hands absentmindedly. ‘If anything it’s the opposite.’ 

He thinks over my answer. ‘I’m not sure how I feel about that either.’ He admits with a soft scoff. 

‘Then maybe I’ll settle in between.’ I compromise with a small smile. 

‘I think I could live with that.’ He returns my smile as our gazes meet. 

‘Charlie!’ I turn to see Sam walking out the front of the compound, his shoes barely tied and his jacket unzipped. ‘There you are, I was worried when I didn't find you in your room.’ I turn a slightly darker shade of pink and it’s not because of the cold.

‘Yeah, sorry, I didn’t get the chance to tell you that I'm babysitting with the old cap’n here last night.’ I joke, managing to hide my embarrassment behind friendly banter. 

‘No worries.’ He just stands over the two of us awkwardly until he manages to muster a cough after waving to Cass. ‘I was actually going to talk to you…uh..in private, could we go for a walk?’ He asks, trying not to be too rude to the fact that I was leaving Rogers behind. 

I look at Cap for approval and he gives me a gentle nod and a gesture which I assume means; “go on.” I smile gratefully and stand, brushing myself off. 

I follow Sam away from the group and give a final glance to Rogers, who, now we’ve moved away and thinks we’re not looking, is staring in utter and complete jealousy at Sam and I. 

I shake off the thought, brushing it away and assuring myself I’m seeing things. 

‘Look, I know you didn’t really want presents from Nat or me, but I wanted to give you something. It’s not much, but….’ he hands me a small, palm sized package wrapped in white tissue paper. I stare up at him, words on my tongue but not at the right speed to leave my lips. ‘Don’t say anything, just…open it.’ 

I listen, gently tearing the tape from the tissue paper and unravelling the item from its protective layer. I catch the silver chain before it can fall out of my hand, and hold it up in the light.

It’s long ago lost its lustre, but the metal has been polished well, and the engraved floral pattern in the centre is still clear. It’s rectangular in shape and the locket clicks open simple enough. Inside is a soft cobalt velvet base, and on both sides it makes the locket seem rather empty.

‘I couldn’t find a photo good enough for it. Normally I’m not the sentimental type but…’

‘I love it, Sam. Thank you.’ I interrupt. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything. I could buy you a drink?’ I offer awkwardly. 

‘Don’t worry about it.’ He waves off my suggestion, then his eyes light up. ‘You could give me a kiss though!’ He teases.

‘Oh you wish, Wilson!’ I punch his shoulder playfully, but apparently I held more force than I thought because he rubs the hit area afterwards. ‘You’re never getting a kiss from me, I’ll make sure of it.’ 

‘Not even as a Christmas miracle?’ He whines playfully. 

***

8:30

Barnes’ POV

‘What about if you conveniently walk under some well placed mistletoe and then I follow after?’ I hear Wilson suggest, freshly showered (I’m no pervert, his hair is just wet still). He’s following after an amused looking Dagger, who looks…..like they walked straight out of a daydream, or a twisted memory.

The familiar feeling still isn’t gone but…

No. 

It’s Christmas for god’s sake. Focus, Barnes. 

’Tis the season, right?

‘No, Sam. Besides, why would there be mistletoe in the compound? There’s barely a plant in sight, let alone one you people can keep alive.’ Dagger retorts, grinning.

‘I don’t know, I read about Loki having something to do with mistletoe once, maybe he magicked up some or something.’ Wilson argues.

‘I don’t think magicked is a word, Sam.’

‘You ok, Buck?’ Steve’s voice breaks me out of my focus of listening to their specific conversation. ‘You’re kind of staring at Sam and Dagger.’ 

‘Fine, yeah.’ Steve doesn’t look convinced, and he’s giving me the “what are you actually trying to say” look. ‘I’m just trying to tune out everyone…’ I wave my hand gently, gesturing to the twenty three or so people chatting away around the large Christmas tree with way too many presents around it. 

‘So you admit you were staring?’ Steve teases, poking my side and grinning, but I pick up on another look.

‘What, you jealous that I’m staring?’ I retort, poking him back.

I watch as he turns bright red and looks away. 

Normally he would tease me back, but apparently the friendly flirting that we’re so used to doing has to be toned back on Christmas. 

‘Alright everyone! I think it’s time for presents!’ Stark announces, and I glance at Wilson and Dagger, who sit next to each other on the floor and presents begin to get passed around. 

The adults start by passing the children their gifts, including the three teens, Parker, Cooper and Lila.

Each child doesn’t waste a second pulling apart the wrapping paper and making a mess of the floor. It kinda reminds me of Becca, pulling apart her wrapping paper and grinning up at me every time, no matter how small or large the present was. 

It didn’t matter if our father was there, or our mother, as long as it was her, and later Steve too, we were happy opening the presents.

The weight of someone’s hand on my knee pulls me out of the memories. 

I flash a grateful smile to Steve and take the present being handed to me by Thor. I check the tag for a name, and pass it down to Wilson, who’s looking keen to open it, but patiently waits for everyone around him. 

I get passed another, smaller package that feels like clothing, and has Steve’s name neatly written on the tag. I pass it along and look around at the group.

Everyone has their gifts now except for me, and there’s one gift under the tree left. 

Stark carefully picks it up, and judging by the size and the fact he almost drops it, I can tell it’s heavy. 

‘Good luck, Manchurian candidate, with whatever is in there.’ He hands me the gift (more like lets it fall into my lap), and I have to grab it quickly to stop it slipping off my legs. Everyone quickly turns their attention to their presents and that of those around them.

I watch as Steve unwraps his present, which is an original USO girls Star Spangled uniform, complete with red striped skirt and blue top.

I can’t help but burst out laughing as Steve glares daggers at a sweetly smiling Stark.

We may not get along well, but we do both enjoy embarrassing Steve to hell, and it was one thing that the two of us did damn well.

‘Shut up, Buck.’ Steve hits my left arm, causing a clang and a soft curse under his breath. ‘I hate that you have an unfair advantage.’ He mutters. ‘Open your present, I bet it’s worse than mine.’ He challenges.

‘You wish, Stevie.’ I taunt, already pulling a strip of the paper off. I carefully take the card tucked in between the two layers of wrapping. 

Dear Mithrandi,

I apologise for borrowing “The Hobbit”, these days, Tolkien happens to be my only form of escape these days. 

I wish you good luck in your re-reading, and may your adventure be full of second breakfasts’.

Signed, Galadriel.

I frown and place the letter aside, tearing away the rest of the paper.

Carefully stacked in the wrapping paper is five books, in perfect order. 

On the top is “The Silmarillion”, a vintage addition, directly underneath is my copy of “The Hobbit”, and then the triple vintage set of “Lord of The Rings”. 

I can’t help my eyes widening at the sight. I’d been searching for a vintage set that I could afford for a year and a half, and whoever this secret santa was had found it in the span of two weeks.

‘Steve…was this you?’ I turn to him in confusion. 

He turns away from his conversion with Sam to look at my gift. ‘No, Buck, that wasn’t me.’ Steve takes the letter from my hands and his face breaks into a grin. ‘It seems you have a secret admirer.’ 

‘I do not! They just signed using nicknames that's all!’ I insist, snatching back the letter.

Rogers gives me a “sure, I completely believe you” look, mixed with a tinge of envy. ‘You once spent an hour explaining to me how Gandalf and Galadriel were lovers when they were younger, and judging by the fact this person signed using perfect elvish, I’d say they like you a fair bit.’ I can hear the jealousy laced in his tone.

‘Whatever.’ I settle with, not having the energy to argue.

***

Reader POV

Dearest Dagger,

I know exactly what you are, and I will continue to keep that secret, if you can find out who I am.

Happy kris kringle.

I can feel Sam’s hot breath in my ear.

‘Would you stop reading over my shoulder?’ I hiss softly, nudging away his shoulder and his gaze.

‘What do you think they mean?’ He whispers back. My brain registers the words, but I’m too focused on scanning the room to respond. 

Not one person has their eyes on me, a tactical idea. 

Maybe no person has their eyes on me, but I meet a certain god’s gaze.

He nods down at the package in my lap, wrapped in green tissue. 

I keep my eyes on him, tearing off the paper carefully. Inside, carefully piercing the paper is a pair of golden snake earrings, wrapped around green pearls. 

These must of been so fucking expensive, it takes all of my self control not to scream “I don’t deserve this!” And throw the fucking thing in his face.

I look up at Loki, eyeing him. He nods, smiling gently. 

‘Who’s in love with you so much to give you those things? They must be a hundred dollars at least!’ Sam whistles, and I pass him the earrings to inspect. 

‘I’m not sure they’re in love.’ I murmur.

‘I don’t know, these look like genuine pearls.’ He whistles again. ‘How are you going to break it to them that you’re in love with Barnes?’ I hit his arm.

‘I am not in love with Barnes.’ I hiss, pinching his arm. 

‘Sure you’re not..’ I hear a hint of envy in his tone. He opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted.

‘Uncle Sam, can you help me open my present? Mom can’t find where she put the tape.’ Aj asks politely. I smile at him and give Sam a “go help your nephew or so help me” look as I stand and move away.

‘I need to talk to you.’ I demand, staring down at Loki in the chair. 

‘Of course, darling, just give me a moment and I’ll join you.’ He grins, but gives me a slight look of urgency as to moving away.

I take the hint and turn on my heel, slipping out of the room, hopefully unnoticed. 

I hear the soft falls of Loki’s feet and as soon as he turns the corner I grip his shoulders and slam his weight against the wall. 

‘What do you know?’ I demand, leaning in close. 

‘You could just ask politely, I would’ve told you, you know.’ He quips, rolling his eyes. 

‘Then spit it out pretty boy.’ I hiss, drawing my dagger and pressing it to his neck. ‘It’s Yule, and I’d rather not spill blood today, but gods help me I will.’

‘I think I liked you better when you were playing the pretty little perfect one.’ He smirks. 

I press the dagger deeper into his neck, and I can see the skin slowly splitting apart. ‘Spit. It. Out.’ I order, leaning impossibly closer.

He leans into my ear, hot breath caressing the sensitive place. ‘I know…that you, Charlie Dagger, are a….’ I hear footsteps and pull away quickly, sheathing my dagger. 

Sam stops in his place, observing the scene. 

Two very pale people looking slightly pink in embarrassment, and one pressed against the wall. 

I watch as his eyes widen, a face of pure shock on his face. He seems to finally grasp his sanity and I watch his eyes turn to lights of jealousy. 

He says nothing, simply turns and walks away.

‘We’re finishing this later.’ I sprint after Sam, leaving behind the god.

‘Sam! Sam! Wait up!’ I catch up to him within a couple of seconds. 

‘It’s none of my business, Charlie. Your body, your choice, I don’t care.’ He keeps walking. 

‘Sam! Stop. I want to talk about this.’ I grab his arm and force him to stop under a doorway. ‘It’s not what you think.’ 

‘Really? Because you seemed to push the most flirtatious person on the team up against a wall, and then you heard me coming, stopped flirting and tried to hide what you’d been doing.’ He snaps, and I can feel a twist of hurt in my gut. ‘It’s really none of my business, Dagger, I don’t care what you do..’

‘Sam.’

‘It’s ok for you to pursue whatever, but please…’

‘Sam,’ I interrupt.

‘Would you do it in a private space, and not on display where anyone, including the kids could walk in on you two…’

‘Samuel!’ I hit his arm and he finally trails off, looking up to where I’m pointing.

The mistletoe hangs from a hook above the doorway, a little red bow wrapped around the branches. Each leaf has a few of the milky white berries nearby it.

I place a gentle kiss on his lips and smile. ‘Merry Christmas, Samuel.’ 

I walk past him and glare at the two men staring at the doorway where Sam now stands alone. 

‘What’re you two looking at?’ I snap at Barnes and Rogers. 

Barnes seems to wake up and glares at me as he stalks away, probably to terrorise some children. Rogers stays stuck in his frozen form, squeezing a glass unreasonably tight. I move away before it can shatter in my face.

Chapter Text

December 25th, 2020.

Now, I know that usually people have a meal on Christmas Eve, but the Avengers being weird and all, we were having the Christmas dinner on Christmas Day.

My heart wasn’t in the mood for all the merryness that was being passed around with the bread rolls. 

Part of my body was happy that I wasn’t alone on this day I’d spent by myself for years, but even though I wasn’t alone, I knew it wouldn’t stop the feeling of loneliness. 

‘Hey, you still alive in there?’ Sam’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. ‘If this is about before, I can completely forget about it.’

I turn and frown, accepting the lamb plate and serving myself a couple of slices. ‘No, Sam, this isn’t about before. Don’t worry about erasing that memory.’ I assure him, offering him an empathetic smile.

‘So what is it about?’ He inquires as I pass the meat on. 

‘Just…..’ I shrug, hiding my emotions poorly. ‘Lost in thought.’ 

Sam raises an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

I sigh. ‘I don’t know, Sam.’ I admit. Part of me doesn’t know. I have a little inkling but it’s more of a painful truth I don’t want to follow. 

‘Is this about your family?’ He whispers, bumping my shoulder gently.

‘I…yeah, kind of.’ I reply, gently slicing my meat, but making no moves to eat it. ‘It just…doesn’t feel right anymore. Christmas, I mean. It’s the season for giving, right? I just don’t feel right because…’ I trail off.

‘Because you don’t think you have anything left to give, right?’ He asks gently. I nod gently. ‘Gifts are over, so you don’t have to worry about that. As for emotionally giving…take your time. There’s no rush.’ 

‘If you two are done having an emotional moment, Cass wants the gravy please.’ Sarah interrupts. I chuckle and pass it over, thanking Sam with a grateful smile.

‘So, we’re still cool?’ He checks.

‘Always were, Samuel, always were.’ I reply, elbowing him gently. 

‘Good, cos it’s Christmas, so the time for forgiving is here.’ He replies with a smile.

‘Hey, Sam, could you pass me the pepper please?’ Rogers requests. Sam obliges, and I watch their eyes meet in a curious gaze, causing Rogers to blush and turn away. 

What was that?

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

December 31st, 2020.

20:30

‘So, let me get this straight– you kissed Sam, under mistletoe, in front of Bucky and Steve, and your intention was not to make any of them jealous?’ Yelena repeats.

‘Yes, for the fortieth time.’ I answer. ‘Now could you please finish your eyeliner, the quicker this is finished, the quicker I can leave…I mean we can leave.’

‘That’s definitely not what you meant.’ Natasha points out.

‘My eyeliner is very important, Dagger, your escape can wait another minute or two.’ Yelena squints in the mirror.

‘Whatever.’ I roll my eyes.

‘I’m surprised you’re not wearing eyeliner, it’d make the whole black outfit much better.’ Yelena remarks, waving a hand in reference to my clothing. 

‘Nuh uh, you are not outfit shaming me into wearing eyeliner!’ I back away slowly but Nat’s hands grip my shoulders tighter than should be possible. ‘No! Sam! Help!’ I struggle, or rather try to.

‘I hate you guys.’ I mumble.

‘We know.’ Nat smirks, her eyes focusing on the outline of my left eye. ‘Tilt up.’ She lifts my chin. 

‘Aaaand done!’ Yelena releases her grip on my head, allowing Natasha to finish before she moves away.

I observe my appearance, noticing the way the eyeliner hugs the curves of my eyelids. 

Not that I would ever admit it, but the makeup suited my outfit.

‘Thanks.’ I grumble, standing. ‘Can we go now?’ 

‘I mean, I’d hope you can, you three are half an hour late and —’ Sam trails off from his scolding when I turn. Yelena and Natasha glance at me with knowing looks and I elbow Nat.

‘Yeah, yeah, we’re coming Sammy, don’t lose your head.’ I tease, walking past his position leaning against the doorframe.

‘You’re late.’ Stark accuses, watching me with an annoyed face. 

‘I know, and I wouldn’t be, if Yelena and Nat hadn’t insisted I wait till they were done with their makeup.’ I reply.

‘Fine. At least you’re here now.’ He acquiesces, leading me through the party.

23:30

‘Hey, we’re all going outside for the fireworks, are you going to join us?’ Loki offers, holding out a hand for me to take. 

‘I would love to.’ I let her guide me to the balcony and I gently press my fingers into my ears.

The sound isn’t as bad as it used to be, but I still keep my ears covered as the chemicals create bright flashes in the sky, inspiring “oohs” and “ahhs” from the party. I watch each different pattern fly across the sky as the sparks land in the lake, sizzling out.

If Loki notices my covered ears, she doesn’t remark. I let my ears adjust to the sounds and gently place my hands by my sides, clasping them together gently to give myself some feeling of safety. 

‘Who’re you kissing for New Year’s?’ Nat asks, joining us. If you didn’t know her, it would be impossible to tell that she was drunk.

‘No idea. You?’ I ask back, yelling over the noise.

‘Yelena managed to convince me to give her a sisterly kiss on the cheek as a symbol of a new relationship. I’m trying to decide if I should go ahead with it.’ She admits, not realising she has about five minutes to decide, and Yelena is about a metre away, clearly listening in.

‘I think you should go for it.’ Nat nods and I turn to Yelena, mouthing “you owe me”.

‘And what about you?’ Loki questions, leaning into my ear. 

‘No fucking idea, personally, I don’t really participate in the whole kiss thing. I reckon it’s stupid.’ I reply, smiling gently.

‘Fair enough.’ She grins.

The crowd starts bustling around to find someone to kiss as the clock hits three minutes to midnight and I’m pushed away from Loki and the widow sisters. I bump into a brick wall, or someone I would’ve thought was a brick wall if I wasn’t already used to running into him.

‘Captain.’ I step back, looking down in apology.

‘Uh, hi.’ He looks surprisingly flustered.

‘One minute people!’ I hear Tony call.

‘Any chance you might…’ I trail off before I start breaking out in hives from the amount of blood getting to my head. 

‘I..um..Yeah..would..I’d like that.’ He rubs the back of his neck nervously as I hear the countdown.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four

Three….

Two….

One..

I press my lips against his as quick as I can, giving my anxiety no chance to stop me.

I pull away gently, feeling a buzzing in my lips.

‘Happy New Years, Steve, welcome to 2021.’

Chapter Text

Sam Wilson’s Room, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States Of America, Earth.

1st January, 2021.

11:27

Sam’s POV

I reached for the alarm clock, managing to squint in the way-too-much-light to see the numbers align into 11:27. 

I groaned, pulling back the sheets enough to let some cool air on my overheating body.

Man, hangovers are the worst.  

For some reason, I’m completely naked, and the cold air hit not just my arm, but another arm draped over my side.

I carefully turned and let out a cry, scrambling back so far I fell back into the bed stand and onto the floor, into the very cold environment.

The face leant over the side of the bed.

‘What are you doing in my room, completely naked, this early in the morning?’

‘It’s my room, Bucky! And it’s 11 o'clock!’ I argued. ‘And I’m pretty sure there’s a reason that we’re both naked and hungover!’

I watched his eyes turn to realisation. ‘No, no way! That did not happen!’ He persisted.

‘I’m pretty sure it did, Barnes, my sheets don’t exactly look clean!’ I retorted. 

‘I–’

‘Sam!’ I heard a knock at the door and signalled for Barnes to stay silent. The knock continued. ‘Sam, are you ok in there? I heard screams.’ Charlie.

‘Uhh– yeah, I’m fine!’ I called back. 

‘Are you sure?’ I pulled on a shirt and reached the door. 

‘Yes, yeah, I’m fine, it’s all good, there was just an uh–cockroach that I saw on my wall.’ I mentally berated myself for such a stupid excuse and I heard a sigh through the door, stifling laughs.

‘Do you need me to come in and kill it?’ Charlie questioned, and I practically heard them grinning.

‘No, no, I uh, threw my laptop at it in my panic and it’s dead now.’ More shit excuses, great.

‘You mean the laptop you keep all…..your files on?’ They asked worriedly. 

‘Uh, no, the spare one, it’s not broken though, it’s completely unharmed. Thank goodness for Stark’s tech, right?’ I chuckled nervously.

‘Yes, well, uh, good luck with your cock…roach problem.’ They dragged out the word purposely and I heard their footsteps move away.

I sighed and pulled on boxers, turned my attention to my trash bin flicking through the rubbish carefully in frantic hopes of finding something very necessary.

In the corner of my eye I spotted Barnes, who had pulled on a shirt and was getting on his pants. 

‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Leaving.’ He replied, pulling up his zip.

‘I don’t think so.’ I stepped in front of his pathway. ‘Charlie knows me, all too well in fact, so they’ll know I was lying, which means they’ll be waiting out there to spring on whoever exits my room. Do you want them to find out what happened between us?’

‘Nothing happened, end of story.’ He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

‘You may want to believe that, but the evidence suggests otherwise, and we,’ I gestured between us, ‘have a reputation of hate to keep up, so unless you want to ruin that…’ I ended my statement with a gesture to the door, stepping out of his way.

‘Whatever.’ He sat down on the bed staring at his hands.

I sat next to him, keeping my distance just enough to make it clear I was recognising he didn’t want to remember this. 

‘You know, if you wanna go, you can. Charlie’ll probably interrogate it out of me later. Then they’ll tell Nat, who’ll tell Yelena and Steve and then Steve’ll face you, so….we’re fuck–’

He gripped my arms, shoving me against the bed on my back. He leaned in close, and–

Shit. 

His breath warmed my skin in a way that shouldn’t have been pleasant.

‘Don’t you fucking dare, do you understand me?’ He hissed. ‘I don’t care if they’re breaking every bone in your body, not one person learns of this, understand?’ 

Holy fucking God above the blood should have been going to my head, not heading downwards. 

‘Do you understand me?’ He pulled me up by my shirt, leaning in so fucking close my thoughts couldn’t go any less than a mile a minute.

‘Y..yes.’  I stuttered, and gulped away any feelings caught in my throat. ‘Yeah, I..I got it, Barnes.’

‘Good.’ He released my arms and I scrambled up, mumbling something about going to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me. 

My pants were extra tight and– God I hate Barnes sometimes.

***

When I returned, Barnes had seemed to leave. 

Fuck.

I checked the kitchenette, because of course a six-foot man can hide in such a small room. I almost ran into him when I went to check the small living room type-area. 

‘I thought you left.’ I frowned in confusion.

‘No.’ He replied simply, and continued browsing through the five books I had stacked on top of the TV unit. 

An awkward silence filled the air, making it even more difficult to stick in the same general area when I knew that we had to stay like this for at least another ten minutes before he could leave without being seen. 

I stood, moved to the other room and stripped the sheets off of my bed, rolling them into a ball of egyptian cotton or whatever luxury fabric Stark was making these things out of to make them feel like clouds.

Something slipped out of the top sheet, falling at my feet.

‘What’s that?’ I almost jumped three feet at his voice. 

‘The condom. And thank God.’  I replied, slipping it into the trash and pouring hand sanitiser on my hands. 

‘Is that what you were worried about? I don’t really get sick, you know.’ I gave him a questioning look, like he’s entirely forgotten about everyone else.

‘Yeah, well, I do. You might not get sick, but I don't know whether you might be carrying something that just doesn’t affect you. The rest of us, including me, do get sick, and I’d rather not get diagnosed with HIV or something else at this point in my life.’ I reminded him, sitting down on the bed. He followed my action but simply stayed silent. 

‘Look, I know we’re not exactly as close as you and Steve, and we’re certainly not…fond or whatever,’ I sighed. ‘You can want to forget that we slept together, sure, but could we at least talk about it before we go back to…. Everything?’ I asked, chest still heavy.

He considered this for a moment, staring at the wall in front of us. ‘Not much to say. We fucked, I enjoyed it. We were both drunk, not much we can do about it now.’ Barnes accepted, keeping each sentence simple and concise. 

‘I…I enjoyed it too.’ I admitted in a mumble, leaning back on my hands. 

He nodded, leaning forward on his knees. After a minute or two he stood up.

‘I’m going to go.’ I stood up, trying to figure out what to do with myself. ‘See you ’round, Wilson.’ He leant forward and before I could react placed a kiss on my cheek and left me standing alone in my room, blushing a furious shade of scarlett. 

God, I hate Barnes sometimes.

Reader POV

Charlie’s room, Avengers Compound.

11:31

I heard a groan as I entered the room, closing the door softly behind me.

‘Why am I in your bed?’ My guest sat up, sheets falling off her top half. ‘We didn’t sleep together did we?’ 

‘Haha, no, Nat, we didn’t in any meaning of the phrase, I slept on the couch.’ I assured her, flicking the kettle on for hot water. ‘You snore when you’re drunk. You know that?’ I questioned, chuckling as I poured her coffee and my tea.

‘I did not know that.’ She admitted, clutching her head. ‘Got any aspirin?’ 

‘In the bathroom cupboard, top shelf.’ I instructed, pouring milk into our mugs and letting the steaming liquids sit for a while on the bench to cool.

‘So,’ She said when she returned, ‘who’d you kiss for New Year’s? I didn’t have enough time to check before I passed out.’ 

‘Mmm.’ I nodded, releasing a short laugh. ‘I’m aware. Loki and I had to rush to catch you and Yelena before you hit your heads. I tried dragging you to your room but while Loki could magic Yelena to her room, you became conscious and threw up before I could drag you up the stairs, and then you passed out again, so I had to take you in here. I cleaned up the vomit, by the way, you’re welcome.’ I pointed accusingly at her, an amused smile on my face.

‘You’re avoiding the question.’ Nat pointed out, sipping her coffee.

‘Yeah, I’m not ready to answer that yet.’ I sighed. ‘Sam, however, definitely got some last night.’ I remarked, indicating my head to the right where Sam’s room sat behind a wall or two.

‘Good for him. You know who?’ She asked.

‘Nah. Guy, I think, but I didn’t catch a face, or a name.’ I shrugged. ‘And, judging from my bleeding ears last night, it was not a quicky. They were having a real ball last night.’ 

‘Ball?’ 

‘They were fucking.’ I elucidate, trying to knock my head out of the sixties.

‘Right, yeah, I got that.’ Nat nodded, downing the rest of her coffee. ‘I’m going to go check on Yelena.’ 

I nodded in understanding and watched her leave, making sure she was steady enough on her feet. 

12:45

‘It’s really not that weird!’ Sam groaned, entering the kitchen with Nat. ‘Charlie! Come on, back me up here, you’ve had sex in a car before, right?’ 

‘Yeah, I’ve been in a submarine race or two.’ I sipped my water. ‘Once was with the first fruit I met, foxy chick. Reminded me of Monroe in “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” actually. Had my first Mary Jane that night too. Course that was back when I was ace, right Parker?’ I ruffled his hair, pulling him away from the chocolate donuts on the counter. 

‘You just started speaking like you’re a thousand years old, I have no idea what you were saying.’ He admitted, webbing one of the donuts and pulling out of my grip.

‘Kids.’ I rolled my eyes and looked up to see Rogers, Sam and Nat staring at me. ‘What?’ 

‘What the hell did you just say?’ Sam questioned, looking so confused his eyebrows could’ve almost stuck to his nose. 

‘Yes, I’ve had sexual experiences in a car. It was with a nice lesbian. The rest is reserved for more adult ears.’ I glanced towards Parker in the corner, munching away at his donut. 

I grabbed a donut of my own and sat, and I practically heard Sam’s silent conversation with Natasha and Steve. 

I distracted myself with the chocolate that was unusually sweet, leaving a slight bitter taste on my tongue.

Not unlike the words that had left my mouth only moments ago.

‘I didn’t see you past midnight, how was the rest of your night?’ Sam asked, pulling me from my thoughts. 

Because you were sticking your tongue down Barnes’ throat I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.

‘I was looking after a sloppy drunk.’ I shrugged, and earnt a hit in the arm by Nat. ‘You almost passed out three times Romanoff, you should take more care of yourself.’ 

‘No need to call me out like that. Now you owe telling me who you kissed last night.’ She replied.

‘Rogers.’ 

I didn't mean to say that, in fact, it didn’t even sound like I was being casual about it, it sounded like it was a secret I needed to blurt out before someone else knew. 

I froze in place.

‘What the fuck was that?’ I spat, my brain filled with clouded confusion.

‘Ohhhhh fuck, it’s happening already.’ I turned to Natasha, who had immediately gotten over her surprise and was now staring at me in concern.

‘Seriously? It’s only just past 12, that's not fair!’ Parker complained.

‘Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on!?’ I shouted, biting my tongue so as not to let loose any of the words trying to leave my lips.

‘You got truth serumed.’

Chapter Text

Hotel Inessa, Russia

September 5th, 1993.

20:25

It carefully perched myself in the gap in the ceiling next to where the chandelier was hanging from, bound by ropes and cables. Its own cables weren’t needed, that’s what they said, and so it had no doubts. 

It watched carefully as titanium hand punched through the thin plaster wall below them, keeping all eyes on the intended targets as its counterpart moved through each enemy swiftly.

Leather jackets and suited bodies lay on the marble floors, knives and bullets last fired only seconds ago now gone.

It spots the last guard seconds too late and a shot slices through the counterpart's right arm.

Eyes widened and a voice released a scream before the observer could hold itself back.

I swung down off the chandelier, gutted the guard with a dagger in one swift movement and his only reaction was to pull me down the staircase with his dying body. 

I groaned and pushed him off, gathering my bearings.

Unfamiliar bearings.

No, no.

He’s there, choking a man to death. 

The target. The target is dead.

My eyes widened and I tried to jump forward, to reach the civilian before He can get to him.

A short American, one who’s dead before I could’ve limped to the door. 

‘He wouldn’t’ve said anything.’ I whimpered, holding myself against the doorframe.

The soldier simply stared at me with empty eyes, assessing my weaknesses, my injuries.

‘мы должны вернуться.’

We must return.

In one swift movement, he landed an uppercut to my chin and the world turned black.

***

Siberia, Russia. 

September 6th, 1993.

I came to, blinking to adjust my eyes to the bright lights around me and the cold temperature.

An all-too-familiar face leaned over mine. 

‘It is surprising to see you’ve broken your programming, little one.’ Karpov’s breath smelled horrific, but his tone was even worse today. My voice wasn’t working, didn't want to. ‘But we will fix that soon.’ 

It’s only then that the cool steel makes itself known to my skin, and I struggled against it like I always do. Tried to move my head enough to avoid the lightning digging into my skull.

‘готовы вернуться к нам?’ he taunted.

Ready to return to us?

My screams filled the air, electric flames burned through my skull, words repeated that I couldn’t hide from, the ones that brought It out. 

‘Красная звезда.’

Red Star.

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, United States of America, Earth.

1st January, 2021.

12:47

‘I got what?’ My eyes widened, trying to process the absolutely insane words that had left Romanoff’s mouth. ‘Truth serum is extremely rare and even so hard to produce there’s no way in hell anyone here is able to access that without criminal roots.’ I blurted, then shoved a hand over my mouth in realisation.

‘I’m sorry, I’m still reeling over the fact you kissed Rogers here.’ Sam waved his hands towards the blonde man who was now fifty shades of red. ‘Who is Mr. Hasn’t Had Sex Since The 40s.’ I bit my lip to avoid spitting any other remarks out.

‘I’m still concerned that someone pranked someone before me! Or Pete!’ Romanoff complained, clearly not worrying about the same things as I was.

‘I’m still very fucking confused about why I’m blurting truths right and left, Romanoff, I’m not exactly the most honest person especially because,’ I couldn’t stop speaking, ‘of you know what in my past. You know, the whole–’

Nat clasped her hand over my mouth as I finished my sentence, mumbling my words incoherently. 

‘Yeah we gotta do something about this before you spill your guts.’ Natasha acknowledged.

‘I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be cleaning up digestive systems on New Year's Day, Romanoff, so please refrain from gutting people until tomorrow, surely you can wait.’ Stark groaned as he poured himself coffee. He turned and observed the situation.

Nat had her hand clasped over my mouth, Rogers was still bright red and Sam was staring in confusion at me and Romanoff. And of course in the background was Parker, mumbling about how he could speed up his plans.

‘Please explain what’s happening.’ He requested simply.

‘Charlie’s been truth-serumed already, and the prank war has officially started.’ Romanoff summarised.

‘Oh shit. Who did it?’ Stark wondered, frowning in worry. 

‘No idea. More than likely they erased the camera footage.’ Nat remarked. ‘Who would start the annual prank war so early?’

‘That’s a good point, triple imposter, who would start a war that exposes secrets?’ Tony gave Nat a pointed look. 

‘Look at Rogers, he may seem innocent, but he’s anything but.’ Romanoff accused. I mumbled against Romanoff’s hand and she pinched my arm. ‘I don’t even want to know what you were saying.’

‘I do!’ Sam pulled her away from me.

‘I was saying, it wasn’t Cap or Nat. They wouldn’t benefit from me exposing their secrets, it makes more sense for someone else to have done it, someone who could benefit from me spilling my secrets.’ I elucidated, forcing myself to hold my tongue.

‘That’s– surprisingly smart. And we can use your internal analysis to help us, keep going with your whole Sherlock Holmes monologue.’ Stark suggested.

‘Well, it wouldn’t be you either, Tony, you know I know a little too much about your life, and you about mine, therefore that crosses you out. It wouldn’t be Sam, again, I know too many secrets like how–’

‘Back on track, continue narrowing things down!’ Sam shouted, interrupting me and earning a questioning look from Rogers.

‘Right, yes, so not Sam. Parker, again, I’ve got blackmail and he doesn’t have a criminal background, therefore it would be harder for him to access truth serum. Of course, he could construct it himself, but his specialty isn’t in biochemistry, at least not in poisons and their effects on the body. Barton could’ve done it, but it makes more sense that he would dose the entire batch of donuts and seeing as Peter isn’t blabbering on like I am, it was calculated, and coordinated so I would take it.’ I took a breath.

‘Therefore, it’s not Barton, Sam, Rogers, Nat or Tony. This leaves Yelena, Barnes, Loki or Kate.’ I continued.

‘What about Wanda, Vision, Thor and Bruce?’ Sam questioned. 

‘Wanda can read minds, Vision isn’t intrusive, Thor wouldn’t use truth serum and definitely not waste donuts like this and Bruce– he’s just too nice to be doing this.’ I explained. ‘Anyway, that leaves those four. Yelena could benefit from exposing some people but Nat told me too many of her secrets for her to risk that. Bishop doesn’t have access to truth serum, and she’s just nosy so she asks if she wants to know things. Leaving Barnes and Loki. Realistically, Barnes wouldn’t poison donuts, and he doesn’t seem like the type for exposing secrets, or pranking, based on his entire past, whereas Loki is much more the type to prank and trick. Plus, magic can be used to create truth serum.’ I gasped in a breath, biting my lip before I rambled on again.

I heard a slow clap from the other side of the room, and I turned to face the emerald-eyed god. 

‘Congratulations, Mr Holmes, you’ve cracked the code.’ They smirked. ‘I suppose that makes me Moriarty in this situation.’ 

‘You better give me the antidote, Laufeyson, or so help me gods-’ 

‘You’ll what? Expose all of my secrets? You don’t know any of them.’ They grinned. ‘But I know yours.’ 

‘Give me the antidote.’ I gritted my teeth. 

‘You mean this antidote?’ They held out a vial, they gripped the neck of the little glass with their thumb and forefinger delicately. ‘I think not.’ I watched as they dropped the small thing.

I dove over the table, slid along the floor desperately and caught the thing before it could smash on the concrete. ‘I hate you.’ I mumbled, relaxing onto the floor.

‘What the fuck did I just witness?’ Sam looked extremely confused, and very slowly worked through the process of understanding how I had managed to achieve such a feat.

‘I have good reflexes.’ I elucidated, picking myself up and pulling the plug out of the vial. ‘Bottoms up!’ I drank the entire potion in one hit.

It had a tangy taste, like a blood orange, with a tinge of something….creaming soda? It basically tasted like the weirdest concoction I’ve ever had. 

‘Do you still feel like blurting out every secret you have inside?’ Stark questioned.

‘Not really, no.’ 

‘What’s your favourite colour?’ Sam asked.

‘That’s the most random question you’ve ever asked me, Sam.’ I remarked. ‘And it’s way too personal for me to answer.’ I joked, grinning.

‘Oh thank god you’re cured.’ Natasha sighed in relief, and I rolled my eyes.

‘As for you,’ I turned to Loki, ‘was the truth serum necessary? I would’ve preferred slime or hair dye in my shampoo.’ 

‘Extremely necessary, darling.’ They crooned. ‘Much more entertaining. Now if you’ll excuse me.’ They strode away, as if the entire kerfuffle had never happened. 

‘Why do they call you darling?’ Rogers questioned, a hint of envy in his voice. 

‘No idea.’ I shrugged, taking my leave.

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA, Earth. 

2nd January, 2021.

07:34

‘What’re you doing?’ I stayed completely still, my eyes still closed as the intruder stopped.

‘I thought you were asleep.’

‘So you’re pranking me? That’s not very nice, Webs.’ I opened my eyes and sat up. ‘Put the glitter bomb back in your bag.’ I instructed. 

‘But–’ 

‘I’ll help you put it in Sam’s room.’ 

‘Deal.’ He agreed, grinning.

08:56

‘GLITTER, ALL OVER MY BED SHEETS, REALLY?!’ Sam shouted, loud enough that I wouldn’t be surprised if the birds outside heard it. ‘I JUST CHANGED THEM AS WELL! COME ON PARKER!’ 

‘Relax, Sam, I’ll help you clean it up.’ I offered, holding in my grin. ‘It’s not like glitter is the herpes of arts and crafts.’ I added sarcastically.

‘That was an unnecessary analogy and you know it.’ Wilson accused, pointing a finger playfully at me. 

‘Oh no, it was very necessary. And hilarious.’ Natasha fist bumped me, leaning over in her seat. 

Nat’s room was on the top floor, and because I had filled her in on my alliance with Peter (which she totally approved of), we had settled with mine, which was right next to Sam's.

‘Are you gonna help me or what?’ Sam whined, shaking his hands like a child.

‘You know, just because your nephews are gone, doesn’t mean you can act like a child.’ I scolded playfully. ‘Maybe if you use manners I’ll help.’ 

He dramatically crumbled to his knees and held his hands out. ‘Please help me, oh wise and mighty one, with my great dilemma of glitter ALL OVER MY FUCKING ROOM!’ 

I bursted out laughing, and tried desperately to keep breathing. ‘Fine, fine, yes.’ I acquiesced, waving my hand royally. 

‘Great, we better get started.’ Sam stood, as if he hadn’t just dramatically thrown himself at my feet, and raced out of the room.

‘How do you even get rid of all that glitter?’ Nat wandered.

‘Play doh, and for the fabric, soak in oil and afterwards wash.’ I shrugged. 

‘How do you know that?’ 

‘Parker’s done this before.’ I pursed my lips and followed Sam to his room. I whistled at the shiny pink mess before me. ‘We’ve got some work to do.’ I sighed.

13:24

‘You’ve still got glitter in your hair.’ Yelena noted, pointing at my hair with a grin.

‘I gave up a long time ago trying to get this shit out, Belova.’ I replied, my tone emphasising my tiredness. ‘As I’ve said, it’s the Herpes of Arts and Crafts.’ 

I heard a low chuckle in the corner of the room and I turned, traced it back to Sergeant Barnes, of all people. ‘I wouldn’t have pegged you as a sex joke type of guy, Barnes.’ I remarked, leaning on the kitchen counter and meeting Sam’s teasing gaze. 

‘There’s a lot people don’t know about me.’ He replied, glancing up. 

‘I know more about you than you think.’ I mumbled. I watched his face frown, watched him eye me up and down in worry. ‘What I meant to say was, it’s much easier to know more about a person, when you have Rogers’ keycard.’ I slipped the card out of my pocket and placed it on the counter. 

‘I was wondering where that went!’ Cap grabbed the thing without a second glance, stuffing it into his pocket and sitting next to Barnes. 

‘Should I have told him that’s a fake?’ I whispered to Sam, earning a scoff. 

‘Of course not. Let him figure it out later.’ He winked and went to join the super soldiers in whatever conversation they were having. 

‘What’re you grinning about, kiddo?’ Stark had almost appeared out of nowhere. 

‘Nothing, daaad.’ I specifically emphasised my whine, turning to face him.

‘Ha ha, very funny. But you know I’m not your dad.’ He insisted.

‘You act like it though.’ I retorted, earning a stern look from him, and a chuckle from Natasha and Yelena.

‘I will legally adopt you if you keep making dad jokes.’ Tony threatened, holding out an accusatory finger and pointing it in my direction.

‘I’m way older than 18, Stark, you couldn’t adopt me unless the law suddenly changed, and we all know that the US government sucks .’ The last part kinda just spilled out and I realised what I’d said. 

Surprisingly, America’s golden boy only nodded, in agreement !

‘They’re right.’ Yelena backed me up. ‘Besides, aren’t you two only ten years apart or something?’ 

‘Ahhhh,’ I shared an awkward look with Stark. ‘More like twenty two.’ 

‘Wow, if you’re calling Stark old, then those two must be ancient.’ Nat nodded towards Barnes and Rogers. 

‘We’re only in our hundreds!’ Rogers shot back.

‘We should be getting orthopaedic shoes and rollators for you by now, that’s how old you are.’ I insulted, to the amusement of a certain Wilson. ‘Only reason you two are able to look like you’re still in your twenties is because you took Ice-Ice-Baby a little too seriously.’ 

My grin dropped as I noticed the calculating glare that Barnes and Rogers were giving me. 

‘I think it’s our turn.’ I heard Barnes murmur to Rogers, who nodded ominously. 

If I wasn’t so trained, I would’ve missed the almost unnoticeable movement of Barnes’ arm from lap to throwing position, and I wouldn’t have caught the package that was heading my way.

Turns out, catching said package was a really bad idea.The film over it was not thick enough to hold after such momentum and impact, and burst all over my hand, covering me with tiny little flecks of orange-brown hairs. 

And it started its effects, quickly.

‘That better not be tobacco, Rogers!’ Stark immediately threatened, while I began desperately trying to swipe away the fibres as the symptoms set in.

‘No! It’s fucking itching powder, Tony!’ I could already feel the burning and tingling sensation all over my arms, scraped nails over my arms and neck and face and anywhere that had been hit. ‘THIS IS NOT FUNNY, BOYS, I HAVE EXTREMELY SENSITIVE SKIN!’ I shouted, desperately swiping away at the little things. 

‘No, it’s fucking hilarious!’ Barnes chortled, clutching his chest and trying to regain steady breathing. 

‘If you think it’s so funny, why don’t you get some, huh?’ I threw as many hairs as I could their way, but it was pretty useless when most were sticking to my skin and already causing a red rash. ‘Ugh, I’m getting..you..back.’ I stormed off, still itching everywhere and desperately trying to get the stupid powder off of me.

I settled under the cool shower, using a scrubbing brush to get every single fibre off of my skin. 

Eventually, most of the irritation had settled, but after I had patted the water off my body with my towel I applied some soothing cream to the particularly red areas.

I strode out into my room, searching for something to wear. 

I’d left the clothes right on my bed. 

I had dirty clothes, but now they’d been infected by the itching powder, so those were out.

And of course, my closet was empty.

Not another fucking prank. Which son of a bitch came up with this? Stealing my clothes? Very unoriginal, and very childish.

Fuck you.

***

14:06

‘Whoever thought it was funny to steal my clothes, I’m in desperate need of new ones, seeing all of my others are COVERED IN ITCHING POWDER.’ I directly stared at Barnes and Rogers as I emphasised the last part.

Kate gave a teasing whistle, and Yelena joined along.

I pursed my lips in an unamused smile, waving my arms to illustrate that yes, I was only wearing a towel.

‘I’ll get you some clothes. You’re about my size anyway.’ Loki offered, jumping up from his seat. I nodded in thanks and gave Kate the finger as I left the room, knowing she was perfectly guilty. 

Loki’s Room.

I’d seen his room, only glances, but now I was practically getting the full tour.

His various vials, tubes and herbs hung off a wooden moon-shaped shelving unit. Next to that was an old, ornate mirror. His bed was neat and plain, with silver sheets and a green blanket. His window was open and he had a small tv mounted on a set of drawers. His bedside tables were clattered with various things. Jewellery, daggers, a couple of condoms, a few tissues and each held a gold lamp.

‘Take your pick.’ He pulled open the wardrobe, waving a hand in invitation.

I picked out a green hoodie and black track pants. Underwear would have to wait until washing was done.

‘Use these. They should be your size.’ He practically plucked underwear and a bra out of his drawer, and to my surprise, they would be a perfect fit.

‘Thank you.’ I closed the bathroom door behind me and pulled on the clothes quickly.

‘They suit you.’ He complimented, offering a friendly nod. 

‘Thank you, Lo.’ My nickname was met with a look of confusion. ‘Short for Lo-ki?’

‘Ah. Not the most creative nickname, but it’s…sweet.’ He decided, holding in any backhanded compliments. 

‘Thank you. For the clothes, and for the compliment. I’ll return these as soon as I have my own back.’

‘Keep them, I was going to give those away anyway, the hoodie isn’t the right green and I already have those pants.’ He explained.

I nodded politely and closed the door to his apartment behind me, once more taking a moment to appreciate the enchanted snaked twisting through the golden horns.

Chapter Text

Living Room, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA, Earth.

2nd January, 2021.

17:23

The victim of my newest prank stormed into the room, wearing only boxers…

Very appropriate, seeing Parker’s in the room.

And clutching his arm.

‘I HAVE A VIBRANIUM ARM, SUPER GLUE IS NOT MEANT FOR VIBRANIUM JOINTS!’ I giggled at the scene before me. ‘WHO DID THIS?!’

Nat and I shared a knowing look. I’d done the men’s bathrooms, she’d done everyone else's (except for ours of course).

‘Would you put something on, Barnes, poor Parker is gonna have a heart attack because you’ve ruined his innocence!’ I taunted, having noticed Peter have a slight moment of queer panic upon spotting the shirtless super soldier.

‘I have more itching powder, and I will use it.’ He snarled, storming over to me.

‘Judging from the super glue flecks peeling off your skin, I think I’ve won this round, seeing your prank is an easy fix. Mine, however, requires a large scrubbing brush and very long arms.’ I smiled sweetly, glancing at his clenched fists.

I was pushing down my fear, hiding behind a facade of a troublemaking smile that seemed to be fooling even Natasha.

‘I’m coming for you.’ He settled on as he leaned over me.

‘That’s not something appropriate to say around a teenager.’ I retorted with a smirk.

‘You know exactly what I mean, Dagger. Watch your back.’ He threatened, turned on his heel and stormed away. 

I breathed out a sigh of relief, one I didn’t know I had been holding until it escaped my lips. 

‘What do you think he’ll do?’ Nat wonders aloud.

‘No idea. Judging from his tone, nothing good.’ 

I was right.

***

Dagger’s Room

18:15

The room had been absolutely trashed. Sheets torn off the bed, the mattress sat horizontally on the frame, bin emptied, books on the shelves, the whole shebang. 

But nothing had been taken, which meant this was either a distraction, or the looter had found no booty to steal.

I settled on the latter.

Thankfully, my little notebook still sat undisturbed under one of the bookshelves, unknown and hopefully staying that way. Thank the gods.

Chapter Text

Dining Room, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA, Earth.

January 2nd, 2021.

19:02

There was an eerie silence throughout the room, the only sounds that had broken it were the occasional clatter of plates and cutlery. 

The silence was not a sombre one, no, it was one of anticipation, the kind the atmosphere feels like when the storm is about to break, and the rain is about to burst from the clouds.

***

19:57

The bass line of the music slithered its way through my ear, the lyrics snaking through my mind.

Baby you’re the devil I know, 

Better than the devil I don’t–

My peace is interrupted when Wanda rushed into the room, waving something around in her hands. 

I pulled off my earphones in hopes of listening in.  

‘...In the gym!’ 

‘What?’ I gazed confusedly at her. 

‘Some prat left their diary in the gym, it’s the general rule of pranks that naturally, we read it.’ Loki explained, waving his hand majestically.

A dark brown leather bound diary.

A5.

No logo, and a few loose pages that fluttered onto the floor.

It was a distraction. The looting had been a distraction. 

‘Give it here, I’ll read it for the whole group to hear.’ Stark beckoned Wanda forward and passed him the book willingly, taking a seat next to Vision. 

There’s nothing to prove it’s mine. I assured myself. They won’t know.

But what if they find out who the subjects of the poems are? My inner demon whispered.

Shut it. But the seeds of doubt are sewn. Just keep up the act.

‘I’ll start from the front and move forward. Pick a page and read people.’ Stark flicked to a page and passed it to Thor, who began to read aloud a poem about beauty. 

My poem about beauty.

Slowly people passed it around, flicking through the pages until it came to me. 

The only pages left to read were the worst ones. 

I couldn’t turn it down and not look suspicious. 

So, I did the logical thing and exposed all of my secret fantasies by reading the goddamned page. 

Conveniently at the same time as Sam, James and Steve walked in. 

Lovely. I thought.

Their bodies. I long to have them pressed against me. In me.  

And when I do, when we can be that close, it’s only in my dreams. 

True siren songs know only their true selves. 

If only I could be that close. 

If only I could feel their lips on me, their hips on me. 

I felt my cheeks reddening as each word passed my lips, but when I caught my reflection in the window, I was my normal plain self. 

I matched the others’ smirks and passed the book to Sam with false amusement. 

Why can’t they know who I am? Why can’t HE know who I am?  

Sam’s voice only made the words more powerful, but perhaps only in my eyes. 

And while I long to tell them, I know it will only hurt me more when I have to leave. Like I always do.  

‘Now that’s sad.’ Sam added, passing the book to Steve. 

I doubt I’m sweet, I doubt I taste it either. I only hope they prefer sour. Bitter. Like acid that burns bittersweet. I’ll always be hungry, but I’ll never know their taste .

A wolf whistle from Natasha, which earned a scoff from my throat. 

And I can linger at their doors, but my confidence will never let me knock.

Turn the page. 

He’s reading more than the others. I noticed silently.

I don’t interrupt. 

They’re strong. I’m weak. 

They’re beautiful. I’m ugly. 

So I press down my hunger, turn it to jealousy.  

Barnes is reading over his shoulder, reading the future words silently. 

I don’t want them. I want to be them.  

I don’t want them. I want to be them. 

I want them. I don’t want to be them.  

Before Rogers could continue, James put his hand out, silently indicating it was his turn to read. 

Spectacular abs and seas of troubles.

Another couple of wolf whistles and woos. I don’t care. I wanted to hear his soft voice read it. That sickeningly sweet Brooklyn accent that makes me swoon and blush. I only wanted to hear it. 

Because I’d gone so long without hearing it.

Inseparable pair, until they were separated. 

And maybe I want him too. 

But I’ll never know when I’ll leave sooner than I arrive.  

And now it’s painstakingly obvious who I wrote about.

Especially when he reads it. 

When they all read it, and hear those words. 

In the way they raise their eyebrows, lick their lips, fidget with their hands. 

Barnes doesn’t object when Loki puts out a hand for the book. He clasps it like a child to their mother. Like he’s ached to read the words, like he knows they’re from my mouth. 

I know two different versions of him. And different versions of him. And of him.  

His lips drawl over each word, making my stomach twist. 

And knowing one day I’ll come home to myself, alone, doesn’t make this love, this want, this need any easier. 

In fact, it makes it worse.  

Each person finishes the last pages but my mind is far away. 

‘Alright people.’ Stark’s voice breaks through the blur. ‘You all know the drill. Anyone can read it overnight, but it must be returned by nine in the morning.’

It didn’t take long for the others to begin squabbling over the simple, leather-bound journal, but instead of joining the fray, I simply strolled past, swiped the book out of Steve’s hand and walked away.

They don’t even notice you. The voice whispered. You were right when you said “I’m a true ghost.”

What? I whispered back to the voice. Because I don’t hide, but nobody sees me?

Exactly. It agreed. 

***

20:46

I sat in the pool area, the wet floor beneath my feet.

The chlorine smell always calmed me.

The echoes.

The reflective blue light.

‘Which page caught your interest?’ Rogers sat beside me.

‘The siren one.’ I replied simply. ‘You?’

‘I’m not sure.’ The echo of his voice taunted my ears. ‘Who do you think it’s about?’

‘Not much of a clue.’ I lied. ‘Reckon it’s about a couple of the guys on the team. Maybe you.’

‘Me, huh?’ 

‘Why don’t you read it?’ I thrust the book onto his lap and stood, heading for the door. 

‘I know you wrote it.’ I forced myself to keep walking, even when I wanted to stop. Desperately wanted to stop.

‘You wish, Steven.’ 

‘You’re right, I do.’ This time I stopped and turned. I looked him dead in the eyes and gave him the double birds, making him chuckle in a world altering smile. ‘Now we’re even.’ 

I turned on my heel and tried to force away the face that stuck in my mind, that stupid fucking grin, the smile, his chuckle. 

I do.

What the helheim did he mean by that?

Now we’re even.

I suppose we were, not that I’d done much to insult him. 

It was unlikely he’d taken the diary, so he didn’t actually know. 

Or does he?

Shut up, voice.

Chapter Text

Hydra Base, Siberia, USSR (Modern Day Russia), Earth.

Sometime in December, 1991.

I gently swiped the cloth over his rough skin.

The cold had made its way into my bones a long time ago, and it didn’t bother me so much, not anymore. 

It was rarely silent in the halls outside my cell, not after recently. Maybe a week ago, maybe longer, there’d been screams, banging and shouting. Occasionally I’d been told to sit outside a fight cell, watch as He fought against the stronger ones. 

I could see it in their eyes. They were conscious, alive, and angry, and every punch they threw against Him showed it. They wanted to kill, and then they were forced to stop. 

Something had happened today. 

He was more injured than normal. His right arm was discoloured and sprained, his other dented. There were cuts all along his face, shallow, but still long. His ankle was broken, unnaturally turned. 

‘What happened?’ I whispered, a useless question. One he’s not allowed to answer, and one I shouldn’t ask. 

He simply stared at me with his widened, pleading eyes. The glacier blue irises always seemed laced with guilt and horror, like he was always ready to beg for forgiveness, but no one would let him. 

Moon River, wider than a mile

I’m crossing you in style, some-day

The words left my lips, barely a melody hung in the air.

Oh, dream maker, you heartbreaker,

Wherever you’re going, I’m going your way

Something gently lit in his eyes, a bit of hope perhaps, or a sadness. 

Boots thundered against the metal-grate floor, stepping towards us. 

Two drifters, off to see the world

There’s such a lot of world to see

We’re after the same

Rainbow’s end, waiting round the bend

Rough hands pulled me out of my seat, onto the floor. My skin scraped away against the cool metal, and the guard poured away the warm water, mixed with the blood I’d been washing away, and the dish and cloth clattered to the floor as he dropped it. 

I tried to reach for the liquid that trickled through the grate, tried to pull it back to me, but it was too far gone now. 

‘вернуться в свою камеру.’ The guard crushed my fingers under his boot, pressing them into the square grids as if to tattoo the pattern into my hand. Back to your cell.

I whimpered as he pressed harder down, signalling that I needed to move before he’d hurt me. I glanced in desperation to Him, but his eyes were lowered. He couldn’t protect me.

So I pushed the guard’s boot off my hand, stood and trailed him down the hall and let him close the door behind me, clicking the lock behind me and hiding me in my prison once more. 

Chapter Text

Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA.

January 3rd, 2021.

05:00

I woke up in a cold sweat, my clammy forehead making my hair stick to my skin in long strands. 

Except I didn’t wake up from my memory.

No, my fire alarm was screaming in my ears.

I rushed to pull on my clothes, grabbed my phone and sprinted out of the compound faster than I could let my mind comprehend what was happening. 

Totally normal reflexes. I assured myself. That’s what everyone does.

I stumbled and let myself fall onto the dewy grass, still covered with a light frost. 

There was very limited light, except for the bright white of the compound streetlights. 

I blinked open my eyes, watching upside-down as three figures approached, whistling.

I turned, slowly standing.

‘It’s O-Five-hundred, I’m not ready to be awake. Which one of you did this?’ I interrogated, observing each of their matching grins. I locked eyes with one and he offered me a wink. ‘James Buchanan Barnes!’ I stalked towards him, giving him a glare so strong he may not have moved, but I could see the fear in his eyes. 

‘That’s Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes to you, Dagger.’ I matched his smirk. 

He had no idea who he was dealing with. 

‘Three seconds to run, Sarge.’ I warned, dropping my smirk into a scowl. 

He didn’t move. 

‘3…2…’ Before I got to one he raced off, and I promptly sprinted after him. 

‘You’re going easy on me, Sarge.’ I noticed, tapping his shoulder. 

He gave me a grin and pushed forward at full speed, gaining an advantage again. I took a breath, tried to squeeze as much adrenaline as I could into my bloodstream and bounded after him.

I knocked his feet out from under him and leapt on his stumbling form, keeping his arms locked under my figure. 

‘Guess you don’t need to be trained much.’ He teased, no signs of breathlessness on his face. His smirk gave it away but his move came too quick for me to stop him. 

He spun, twisting me under him and holding down my wrists with one hand. I could see the faintest edges of blush on my face in his vision, and I stopped myself from letting memories flood in at the sight of his glacier blue irises.

‘I hate you.’ I muttered.

‘Bite me.’ His breath was too warm on my face.

‘Careful, that’s a real request when asking me.’ I taunted, smirking. ‘But it seems like you win.’ He grinned, but past that I could see a raw emotion ebbing at his core.

I pulled my legs up, locking his head in my thighs, throwing him over my body and landing on my stomach. I clambered up and strode away, leaving the three men breathless.

‘Nice thighs, doll.’ Was all James could manage.

I flicked him the finger and strode away, welcoming myself back into the warmth of the compound.

07:32

My body was still so abuzz with emotions and something a little bit more that I was almost prepared for the situation that awaited me. 

Almost.

I strolled into the kitchen to pour a drink of water, only to realise the crowd gathered around a tv screen, playing over and over an all too familiar scene.

Great. I thought. Just what I need .

The woos and whistles of the three men echoed, causing chatter in the observers. I sighed and joined the crowd that seemed to grow even more amused every time Barnes and I flipped each other over.

What’s the big deal? I thought. It’s not exactly hard to beat him.

When I flipped him the final time the crowd either cringed or laughed, or a combination of both.

‘You hear that? Nice thighs, doll!’ Yelena taunted.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Immature.

10:21

I threw my dagger towards the boards, watching the paint splatter onto the target, the remains dripping onto the tarp on the floor. 

I picked up a glitter filled balloon and threw it at one of the double-sided daggers, watching the colourful explosion of shimmer. 

‘I’d say that’s successfully bedazzled.’ I mumbled, pulling away the tarp and rolling my daggers up in it so as not to colour my clothes in any of the paint or glitter that now stuck to the target area.

12:35

‘To whoever decided it was a fun idea to put paint and glitter all over the target practice area, it’s now extremely difficult to shoot things without getting a face full of kindergarten memories!’ Kate complained, clapping her hands together to shake off the glitter. ‘That being said, it does look better than before.’ 

‘You’re welcome, Bishop.’ I called, giving her a thumbs up without turning away from my pizza.

‘Listen up people! The prank war has been taking a lot out of people, so I’m taking us all on a camping trip. It’s completely optional, but highly encouraged. We leave tonight.’ Stark announced. 

The announcement was met with a couple groans, and a few complaints of “it’s too cold” but it was generally disregarded or acknowledged with a nod.

Chapter Text

Bucky’s Room, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA.

15:38

Steve’s POV

‘For the last time, Steve, I’m not going.’ Bucky reminded me. ‘It’s going to be freezing, and I don’t even think many people are going.’

‘Buck, you need to get outside, and Sam and Nat are going.’ I replied.

‘I don’t need to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with those two. On his own, bird brain is annoying, but with Natasha it’s two times worse. Not to mention Stark, who I’m still not sure is exactly happy with me.’ He added.

‘I know you’re not exactly fond of Stark, but he’s not angry with you, not anymore. You talked to him, and he’s really changed since then, especially since Thanos. As for Sam and Nat, they’re not the worst, and I can get them to leave you alone for the trip.’ I offered, sitting next to him on his bed. ‘I know this is still tough for you, and this isn’t an ideal trip for you, but I’d like you to come. Think about it, okay?’ 

I stood and moved towards the door.

‘I’ll save a spot in the car for you.’ I promised and closed the door behind me.

‘So, what's metal head’s answer?’ Sam questioned, wearing a soft grin. One that I would never admit I adored.

‘I told him to think about it. I guess we’ll see him in the car if he’s coming.’ I replied, shrugging. 

‘He’s not coming, is he?’ Sam’s grin dropped, he almost seemed disappointed. 

‘I don’t think so.’ I sighed.

‘Well, we tried.’ He shrugged and offered an empathetic smile.

‘You think he’ll be ok here for a couple of days?’ I wondered, striding away from the door that held a single cursive initial of “B”.  

‘He’ll be fine, Steve. If you’re that worried, you don’t have to come either.’ 

‘I need the air, the compound is starting to get a bit boring.’ I admitted, earning a chuckle from Sam. 

‘Man, you have no sense of imagination. I haven’t been in half of the rooms here, there’s always something new to find with Stark constantly updating the place. But your choice, I’ll be packing if you need me.’ He excused himself, jogging off to his room across the hall, leaving me alone in the empty hallway, trying to figure out what I should do.

Chapter Text

January 3rd, 2021.

17:45

Reader POV

Oh gods it’s a minivan. We’re travelling in a fucking minivan.

I stood outside the vehicle, next to Stark, who had exactly one duffel bag, and it was mostly clinking when he’d stepped towards the car, which led me to believe he was not here to relax. 

‘Is it only us? I thought I said 5:45.’ Stark checked his watch.

‘Yep, might just be us, Tony. It’s not exactly camping weather.’ I remarked, pulling my zipper up impossibly further on my jacket.

‘Jokes on them, I was going to use the new tents that I made, with the heaters and all that jazz.’ He shrugged, pulling open the van boot and loading in our bags. ‘Guess that means you’re stuck with playing two person uno for the next two days, Charles.’

‘When did I become an eighty year old British professor of psychology and philosophy?’ I joked, bumping his arm.

‘When I found you you’re already almost eighty.’ He retorted, pulling the boot closed. 

‘Jesus, Stark, no need to be so brutally honest. Maybe I’ll start calling you Anthony.’ I offered, grinning.

‘Please don’t.’ I joined him in the front, sitting shotgun while Stark was driving. ‘Should we wait?’ 

‘Yeah, give ‘em till eighteen hundred.’ I agreed.

‘Took you two long enough.’ I spun so quickly I almost gave myself whiplash, jumping as I did.

‘CHRIST BARNES!’ Stark shouted, clearly surprised. ‘No need to give a man a heart attack, huh? You couldn’t have waited till we were here to get in the car like a normal person?’ 

‘No. You were taking too long.’ James replied simply.

‘I’m not sure Tony and I are the best people to scare, if I’d had my daggers, you’d have one in your chest right now, understand?’ I scolded, sighing and turning back in my seat.

I jumped again at a knock on the window and rolled it down. 

‘You wanna get in or what, Rogers? You’re late by five minutes, and it seems your friend has beat you to it.’ He simply grinned at me and he climbed into the back seat, sitting next to Barnes.

Sam, Loki and Nat piled in not long after, Nat and Sam taking the far back row, Loki sitting on the far side of the van’s middle row.

‘Great, we’re surrounded by Cap supporters, guess it’s just you and me for ourselves, huh?’ Stark joked.

‘Well Parker has been standing outside the van for three minutes waiting for you to notice him to let him in, so I would say no.’ I pointed out, beckoning the teen with a hand signal to hop in. He nodded and climbed in. 

‘Kid, you don’t have to wait for us to let you in.’ Stark remarked, patting Parker reassuringly on the back.

‘Sorry, Mr Stark. Thank you.’ Peter climbed through to the very back, sitting next to Natasha, who was in the centre seat.

‘It’s 6 o’clock, I think we can go now.’ I suggested, and Stark nodded. 

‘Let’s get on the road, people. Strap in, we’ve got a three hour drive ahead of us.’ Tony instructed, and I pulled on my seatbelt. ‘Music?’ 

‘No!’ Was simultaneously heard from three voices across the van.

‘No offence, Tony, but you really need some variety in your music taste. We can’t listen to pure AC/DC for three hours.’ I remarked.

‘Alright, loud and clear.’ He sighed, an amused smile playing on his lips. ‘Radio it is.’ He turned on the van, and I scrolled the volume knob up slightly, letting the guitar solo shred its way into the occupants ears. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’ 

***

‘Wake up, kiddo, we need to swap drivers.’ I felt Tony shake my arm a little.

‘Leave Charlie alone, Stark, I can take over driving.’ Sam offered, leaning over the second seats and clearly intruding on Rogers and Barnes’ personal space. 

‘I’m fine, Sam, I can drive.’ I blinked my eyes open and looked back at the clearly worried man. ‘Relax, murdering isn’t my thing. And even if it was, there are better ways than a car crash in the middle of nowhere.’ My brain caught up and I realised my mistake. ‘It’s just–it’s a little– sorry.’ I mumbled.

Stark gave me an awkward pat on the knee, mouthing “it’s ok”, but a single glance in the rearview mirror showed that the other victim had a face laced with guilt. 

***

‘This is it people, make sure you’ve got your lanterns to set up the tents, and try not to make too much noise.’ Tony warned from next to me as I put the van in park. ‘Or you’ll attract the bears.’

‘The only thing attracting bears, Tony, is left-over food and your B.O.’ Nat quipped, making me snort. 

‘Alright, everyone out.’ Stark immediately moved on from the insult, opening his door and giving me a fresh blast of bitter air. ‘The tents are in the back, you just press a button and they pop up. Cap, you’re on wood duty, seeing as you’re so good at it.’ 

I could hear the light sigh from Rogers’ direction and chuckled. Stark was good at holding grudges, I’d give him that much.

‘Charles, help me with the tents and setting up.’ Tony tapped my knee and I got out and stretched, releasing the bubbles of air and stiffness from my joints. ‘Pete you’re on unloading, Natasha and Wilson, you two better do something or so help me you’re sleeping on the lake.’ 

I hear Sam groan from over the van, clearly more eager to rest than helping out.

‘Nat, swap with me, I’ll be on cooking with Sam as soon as Mr. Muscles 1 and 2 get back.’ I leaned on the hood of the car, returning Sam’s grateful smile. 

‘Fine by me.’ She gave a short shrug and started getting to work while I leaned back against the van door next to Sam.

‘When are you going to stop backing my ass up?’ He asked, turning towards me with a smile. 

‘Whenever you stop throwing my ass under a bus and waking me up at 5am.’ I replied, meeting his eyes. ‘Seriously that shit’s painful, do you know how loud fire alarms are?’

‘Woah woah woah, it wasn’t me who woke you up, it was Barnes, I was just along for the ride.’ He corrected, holding up a finger. 

‘Oh! So you were the bystander. You know that’s worse right?’ I nudged him with my elbow. 

‘I know, I know. I just can’t help it sometimes, especially when you look cute with bed hair.’ Sam teased. I pushed away the blush that crept up my ears, giving him a friendly smile. ‘But I promise I’ll make up for it with dinner.’ He assured me.

‘Oh you better, pigeon wings, I’m counting on your cooking to make up for my 0500 wake up call. I’ll get revenge in other ways for the other two.’ I promised, grinning. 

‘I’m counting on it.’ He replied.

***

‘Who’s got a good campfire story, staring at the flames is getting boring.’ Nat complained. 

‘Only an assassin would find nothing to do while camping.’ I taunted, bumping her with my shoulder. 

‘Just for that comment you’re on campfire-tale duty.’ She ordered. 

‘Tuck yourselves in, kids, cos I’ve got spine-tinglers for days.’ I joked, taking the torch Parker passed to me and turning it on to add to the ominous lighting of the atmosphere. 

‘Stop making jokes and get to the story!’ Tony whined playfully. 

‘Fine, fine.’ I sighed, watching the steam curl away into the flames in front of me. ‘Our story begins with a rather infamous myth-hunter, Johan Schmidt.’

(Now is when you should change songs, to My Jolly Sailor Bold)

‘Schmidt first found the tesseract, after he had founded Hydra, but there was always one mythical creature he found more interesting than a hydra. One he obsessed over. Not many know such a creature, simply what its myth became.’

The creature has gone by many names. Mermaid, succubus, they’ve even been associated with harpies from time to time, but this creature is different from all of these. 

This creature was a true monster.’

There is no one story of how this monster was created, but there is one tradition that states this; they were put in charge of preventing Persephone from being taken by Hades, and when they failed, they were turned into the monster they are in punishment. The monsters were left on an island to rot, except they found a way to survive.’

The island was infamous to local sailors, and they strived to avoid it, or else put wax in their ears to avoid such a creature from luring them to their deaths. The monster would prey on whatever sailor or ship would travel near their island in order to crash their ships on the rocks surrounding the island. When the ships crashed, the monsters would feast on whatever they could find in the wrecks, from the ship’s stored food, to the sailors, still alive within the splinters.’ 

Eventually, the island was forgotten, and there were no more sailors to feast upon. 

And so, the monsters died out. 

One sailor ventured near the island one last time, ignoring the warnings of the townsfolk, because he wished to see what the monster’s powers could show him. 

So he was lured, by the last monster, to the edge of the rocks, where the monster could jump from the edge to the fishing boat the young sailor travelled on. From there, they used their power to hide in the mortal form of a human, forcing the sailor to take them to the mainland. The monster was returned to the mainland, where it hid within humanity for thousands of years, living and loving with the mortals until it could have its own children, and the monster’s powers could be passed on. The cycle continued throughout the centuries, and the rise and fall of empires and kingdoms.’

But at the turn of the 19th century, the monster’s bloodline disappeared. 

The furthest Schmidt could trace it too was the 1st of January, 1900, in the Northern Hemisphere, somewhere close to western Alaska.’

‘What was the monster called?’ Peter’s awed voice snapped me out of my trance. 

‘The siren. 

Schmidt never found it, and died not knowing the secrets of the monster. The siren song that lured mortals young and old to the rocks of that island in the mists of the Mediterranean is lost to history. And even if a siren were found….all mortal ears should steer clear of their voice, for it enchants, and bewitches mortals beyond their mind’s control, and no person has been told to have escaped the sound except for external interference.’ I finished with a warning look. 

The fire flickered with light, its spits and crackles making the only sounds in the campsite.

‘How do you know about the sirens?’ Rogers whispered into the night.

What he means is “how do you know Schmidt studied them?”

‘I’m told I read too many old books.’ I replied. ‘Excuse me, I need some sleep. I hope you enjoyed the story.’

Chapter Text

Charlie and Sam’s Tent, The Campsite, Upstate New York, USA.

January 3rd, 2021.

23:43

Sam’s POV

I crept into the tent, zipping it closed and pulling off my shoes.

The gentle heat of the technological shelter was a welcome change compared to the arctic temperatures the night had brought outside. 

Within a mass of splayed out blankets and sleeping bags lay Charlie, curled into a comfortable foetal position in the centre of the large tent. 

I chuckled to myself softly and changed into pyjamas as quietly and quickly as I could. I don’t think anyone would want to wake up to their friend completely naked.

And that’s all you’ll ever be, a friend. My thoughts reminded me.

But I can hope. My heart replied. 

I lay down, pulling a blanket over myself and gently nudging Charlie towards their side of the tent, so I at least got a place to spread out on the in-built-mattress floor.

When our skin connected I felt the drastic drop in temperature compared to my own skin. 

I turned and gently pressed a hand to their forehead, that was about the temperature my own skin was at while I was outside, even with jackets. 

‘You’re freezing.’ I observed quietly. 

I pulled more blankets over Dagger’s figure, and as I moved them I noticed the light goosebumps lining their skin in neat rows. I leaned slightly closer to them, hoping some of my body heat might improve their own temperature.

Dagger mumbled in their sleep, some incoherent words, and they turned over and leaned into my body. 

Fuck, what are they doing?  

At the first sign of some kind of body heat, they wrapped their arms around me, and Charlie’s warm breath trailed over my skin. 

I shouldn’t be this close. I thought. I’m not allowed to be this close.

And yet I couldn’t help wrapping my own arms around their cold figure and leaning my head into their hair. 

I’ve only smelt their shampoo once, a gentle chamomile and honey scent, and god I wished that kiss had lasted longer, but this was good too. There was a gentle comfort to this, a comfort that had the possibility to become something more regular.

This won’t happen again. My head reminded me.

I’ll make this last then.

I pulled Charlie impossibly closer to me, let their head fall on my chest as I lie on my back, and keep my arms wrapped around their figure and gently stroke a hand through their hair absentmindedly, sending a fresh wave of their warm-bread and honey smell into my nostrils, which filled my bones with a comfortable warmth and stillness.

‘You’re warm.’ They mumbled subconsciously, barely stirring. ‘That’s nice.’ 

The thought that, even subconsciously, they didn’t mind us being so close bloomed a spark in my chest, filled me with a gentle joy. 

But they’re in love with Bucky. I reminded myself. Just like me.

I used such an emotion to let most of my thoughts go, and let myself relax into the mattress, the world slowly fading away with oncoming sleep.

And I fell asleep like this, arms wrapped around Charlie, their head on my chest, one hand in their hair.

***

January 4th, 2021.

06:04

Reader POV

I awoke unusually warm, and the tent-bed is a tangled mess of limbs. 

My legs were intertwined with Sam’s, my arms draped over his shoulders and around his neck gently. My head had been on his chest, and I was practically on top of him.

Fuck, what did I do?

My brain went into panic mode, until it realised we were both completely clothed, and neither of us smelt of anything except sleep. 

And Sam wouldn’t do that.

He wouldn’t do anything unless he was sure I was ok with it. Unless he was sure I was okay.

I slowly peeled myself away from his body, rolling off him so as not to disturb him too much. 

I pulled on some warm clothes and gave Sam a soft kiss on the cheek.

‘Thank you, Sam.’ I whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

I unzipped the tent flap and closed it behind me, letting the bitter air pull my sleepiness from my mind.

It was early, but not too early for me to enjoy the gentle stillness that the early morning brought. 

I spotted a deer across the lake, of which our campsite is right next to, and gently waved. At the movement it got spooked and bounded away into the treeline.

Chapter Text

06:45

The gentle tapping of footsteps across the ice alerted me to the person’s presence.

‘Go away, I’m sleeping.’ I announced, spreading like an angel in the snow bed on the lake.

There’s a tapping of footsteps as they move away and I relaxed. 

Turns out, that was a bad move.

A snowball hit me square in the face. I wiped away the iciness and scrambled up into a crouching position, fuming. 

‘You’re so dead, Laufeyson.’ I warned. She smirked and broke off into a run and I raced after her, scooping up snow as I went and balling it in my hands. 

I threw, hitting her square on the back and even making her stumble a little. I formed another and as she turned it hit her right in the face.

‘Ok, I deserved that.’ She admitted, laughing it off and tying her hair carefully with an elastic. 

I grabbed another handful of snow and began forming another snowball, before I could aim and throw it, I got a hit to the chest, and she sped off along the lake again.

I raced after her, laughing and throwing the snowballs I formed along the way while dodging all of hers. 

I stumbled and slipped on the ice, sliding on my butt another metre before slowing to a stop.

I broke out into giggles of hysteria, wiping the snow off of my pants. 

‘I think that means I win, Dagger.’ Loki offered me her hand and I took it, standing. 

‘Whatever, don’t let it go to your head.’ I joked, punching her shoulder playfully. 

Crick.

I looked down at the ice below me. I pushed Loki out of the way as the ice broke under me.

Freezing water floods my senses, and I panicked, trying to swim upwards.

Something was dragging me down, I could feel it. I kicked against whatever it was, trying to swim upwards and to the surface.

My lungs were burning and my eyes were clouded, and I couldn’t find where the ice was broken. I reached for the icy surface, trying to bang against any weak points, but instead I met a warm pair of hands.

I was pulled up, coughing and spluttering and trying to breathe in properly.

‘Are you ok?’ Loki wraps a towel around me, seemingly one she summoned.

I nodded weakly and let her help me to my feet and guide me off the ice, shivering and soaked to core with frozen water. 

Like a human slushie.

‘Charlie! Are you ok? I saw what happened.’ Sam wrapped me in another towel, carefully guiding me away from Loki.

‘I’m fine, Sam, I’ll be ok.’ I mumbled, shivering. 

‘Go get changed, I’ll get you a blanket and some food.’ He suggested, nodding to the tent. 

I listened to him and zipped my tent closed, relishing the heat left over from the night.

I pulled on a fresh set of clothes, zipping up my jacket and closing the ten flap.

‘Here. Sit next to the fire.’ Sam instructed, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. I sat and he passed me a plate of food. Sausages, scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.

‘I made some hot cocoa, it’ll help warm you up.’ Peter offered, passing me a mug. I took it gratefully and he sat next to me. 

‘How’s May?’ I asked curiously, taking a sip of the warm drink.

‘She’s good. We’ve found someone to lease the second apartment to, and her job is pretty good. So, she’s alright.’ He answered. 

‘And you? How’s college applications going?’ I questioned, starting to work on my food. 

‘A bit stressful, but good. My MIT letter is due in the mail soon, so that’ll be cool.’ He admitted. ‘School’s fine, not much going on aside from testing. I got the week off, so I’m back on Monday next week.’ 

I nodded. ‘That’s good. I’m glad you’re not–’ I trailed off when I picked up a conversation on the other side of the fire.

‘That’s a frozen lake! You shouldn’t be on it, let alone be running around on it. Charlie could’ve been hurt, or worse drowned! Who’s fault would that be?!’ Sam scolded.

‘Don’t be angry at me for nature. Charlie and I both knew the risks. No one was hurt, stop accusing me of being at fault for something I didn’t cause.’ Lo retorted. 

‘They almost got frostbite! Unlike you, they’re mortal, which makes it much easier to get hurt!’ Sam shouted. I mumbled an “excuse me” to Parker and stood, leaving my plate close enough to the fire to keep it warm.

‘I know that! But they’re much more resilient than you give them credit for, especially for a–’

‘That’s enough, both of you.’ I announced, stepping between them. ‘I’m fine now, even if I am a little cold. A bit of ice doesn’t do much to me nowadays, so I’m perfectly sure I’ll live.’ 

‘You could’ve gotten injured because of her!’ 

‘I’m not at fault here, so stop acting like I would cause them to be injured on purpose!’ Loki spat. 

I placed a hand on her chest, turning to her. ‘It’s ok. I know. Sam’s just worried, okay? I’ll deal with this. You get some food.’ I suggested gently. She nodded and wandered away, keeping one eye on Sam and I. 

I turned back to Sam.

‘What was that?’ His voice was low and his eyes reflected so many emotions it was hard to tell which one was the most forefront. 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘You just calmed her in seconds, and she listened to you. What, did you sleep with her or something?’ Jealousy ebbed at his voice.

‘Sam, we’re close, but we’re not that close. She’s my friend, and she trusts me. Just like I trust you.’ I soothed, but he didn’t seem convinced. ‘Don’t I tell you everything?’

He let out a scoff. ‘A little too much sometimes.’ He admitted.

‘Exactly. So I would tell you, wouldn’t I?’ I checked.

‘Probably.’ He agreed softly. 

I smiled gently and wrapped him in a hug. ‘I’m ok. I promise.’ I whispered, kissing his cheek. ‘I can look after myself.’ 

He gave me a sad smile, as if he didn’t completely believe me, but nodded. ‘I know.’ He murmured. 

‘Good.’ I approved. ‘Now come sit next to the fire with me. You’re starting to feel like you’re the next one in the friend group to be put on ice.’ I quipped, grabbing his hand.

Chapter Text

7:03

Bucky’s POV

I stared across the campfire at Sam, who was smiling with a tinge of sadness and nodding. But his smile quickly changed to one of adoration as Dagger took his hand and guided him around the fire to sit on a log opposite where Steve and I were sitting.

I shouldn’t be thinking like this. I hate them. I reminded myself. Sam’s always making fun of me and making jokes and Dagger….Dagger keeps leaving me with that weird feeling of memories…and something more.

I pushed away those thoughts and turned to Steve, ignoring Sam who’s giggling at something Dagger is saying. 

Steve stared in their direction, gripping the log we’re sitting on so hard he’s leaving indents in the wood. 

‘Steve.’ I seemed to break him out of his trance. ‘Are you trying to leave a permanent mark on this poor log?’ I quipped.

He blushed and realised what he’d been doing, quickly removing his hands.

‘Sorry.’ He mumbled.

His blush was the same shade as this morning. 

God, this morning.

***

06:21

My legs were tangled with his, our arms clutching each other's bodies.

Fuck. Don’t move, he’ll wake up and realise.

He’ll realise anyway. My thoughts reminded me. He has to wake up sometime.

I stayed silent, tried to keep my breathing as shallow and short as I could. 

How did we even get in this position?

I mean sure, we went to sleep close by to each other, but how did we both get into this position in the night?

Was he awake when I wrapped a first arm around him, or was he asleep too?

Did he wake up when I pressed my leg between his?

And–god. Fuck. Can he tell?

I tried not to move too much as I shifted backwards slightly, just enough for him not to feel everything between my legs.

‘I know you’re awake.’ Steve whispered, and I watched his eyes as they fluttered open.

‘You’re awake?’ I murmured.

Shit. Please don’t look down, Steve.

‘I think I’ve learnt more about pretending to be asleep with all the times you forced me to stay in bed when we were younger.’ He chuckled lowly, making it ever increasingly-harder to swallow down my emotions. 

‘I..um..yeah.’ I managed to mumble out.

An awkward silence filled the tent and I realised that our faces were barely an inch apart, and our arms were still wrapped around each other.

‘I’m…uh..going to get dressed.’ He mumbled, carefully pulling away. 

I nodded and unattached myself from him, murmuring something about doing the same. I grabbed clothes from my bag and pulled off my shirt, replacing it with a clean one.

I accidentally turned too fast after I’d dressed and I caught a glimpse of Steve with his shirt off. I turned back and pretended I hadn’t seen anything.

God, please don’t notice.

***

Steve’s POV

07:03

Sam was giggling at something Charlie said, a bright smile shining across his features. Dagger’s leaned in close to him, their knee touching, and– fuck, why are they so close together?

It’s worse that the only thing I could stare at when Dagger had been guided back into the camp was their clothes sticking too close to their body.

And then this morning. 

When I’d woken up and Bucky was—

No, don’t think about that. My thoughts chided me. You shouldn’t be thinking about that. He’s your best friend, he doesn’t love you like that.

‘Steve.’ Bucky’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. ‘Are you trying to leave a permanent mark on this poor log?’ 

I realised my intense grip on the wood and released my hands from it, feeling the blush creeping up my neck. I tried to distract myself by turning my attention to my food, carefully using the cutlery and keeping my thoughts off of my stupid crushes before I launched food into the fire. 

Unfortunately, this didn’t last long.

I felt eyes burning into the side of my head and turned towards Buck.

‘Would you stop staring at me like you’re going to kill me?’ I joked, nudging his shoulder gently, but he just stared blankly.

‘Why were you staring at Sam and Dagger?’ He questioned, although it was more like an interrogation. 

‘I wasn’t staring.’ I lied. 

‘Yeah, you were!’ Nat called from the pot of food a couple of feet to the left. 

‘You were definitely staring.’ Bucky confirmed. ‘Why?’

‘I–’ I sighed. ‘Can we go for a walk?’ 

***

07:43

‘I think we’ve successfully escaped all of society, are you going to answer now?’ If I didn’t know Buck, I wouldn’t have been able to tell his nervousness. 

‘Listen–’ A sound startled the both of us, but it was just a couple of surprised birds, nine crows, if I wasn’t mistaken. ‘I..’

‘Are you in love with them?’ I’m caught completely off guard. 

The question is one I’ve been asking myself for a month.

One month of desperate glances to the two of them, trying to have conversations with Dagger and failing, poor attempts at joking, trying to ask either of them out and not finding the time between missions. And the desperate hope that I got one of them for secret santa.

And then it had been New Year’s and Charlie had kissed me. 

Sweet and silent and it had lasted only a moment before they had to run off.

And since then it’s only been blushing at Sam’s jokes and compliments, and trying to avoid Dagger’s gaze. 

But they’re not the only one’s I’ve been yearning for.  

It’s no secret to Natasha, and I’m sure by now Sam knows, but Dagger’s words still echoed in my ears from Christmas morning.

I’m not here to hurt him. 

If anything it’s the opposite.

“I’m not sure how I feel about that either.” I’d said, and I’d been honest. 

Those words still applied now.

I’d tried to choose. Tried to narrow it down, but it didn’t work.

So I just pushed away those feelings. 

You can’t lie to him, though. My thoughts reminded me. He’ll know, he’s your best friend.

Then I need to be honest. I decided silently.

I met his eyes, observing the stone blue hues that I’ve seen almost every day of my waking life. The ones I could spot in an instant if I needed to. 

There’s a hurt behind the coldness of the wall he pulled up.

The wall always comes up when it’s too much for him to deal with emotion, but it hurts to see him hide from his feelings rather than face them.

‘It’s not just them I’m in love with.’ I admitted softly, gently taking his hand.

And just like that the wall was demolished, and his confusion and hope took hold. 

‘What do you mean?’

‘You.’

***

Reader POV

08:01

‘I feel like something’s wrong. They said they’d be back in twenty minutes and it’s been an hour.’ Sam noticed with a worried expression on his face. 

‘They’re probably just making out in the woods or something.’ Stark commented lazily. 

Sam and I seemed to share the same shocked and unsure look. ‘Jesus, I was joking. They’ll be fine.’ Tony promised, waving a hand.

‘I’ve got their locations, they’re about halfway up the track at one of the clearings. We’ll give them another twenty minutes to start moving and then we can go see what they’re up to.’ Nat emphasised the last two words, smirking. 

‘Fine.’ I sighed.

***

08:30

‘It’s half past, Nat, have they moved?’ Sam checked.

‘You’ve asked that continuously for the last ten minutes, Mr Wilson. I doubt they have.’ Lo remarked dryly, earning a glare from Sam.

‘Nope, they’re still in the same clearing. I suppose you can go check on them if you’re that desperate, but I’m not to blame if you see something that scars you for life.’ Nat remarked. 

I stood and went to follow Sam but Tony grabbed the edge of my jacket. 

‘You can stay here.’ He suggested, but it was more like an order. 

‘Tony.’ I had a warning tone to my voice, enough that he already seemed annoyed. ‘I’m going. If they’re in trouble they’ll need my help. Besides, they’re my friends.’ 

‘I— fine. Hurry up after Wilson, he doesn’t seem to think you’re coming.’ He acquiesced, nodding towards where Sam had been a moment ago, now gone in the trees.

I nodded and ran after Sam into the woods, but I’d already lost him.

Fuck.

***

‘So they’re somewhere up here, just follow the trail.’ I mumbled to myself, and maybe a little to the trees. ‘Gods, Sam walks too fast. Couldn’t wait for me, could he? Just had to walk ahead. Anyone would think the man was desperate to make sure they’re ok.’ 

I sighed and tried not to walk into any trees as I reached the clearing. 

Which was….

Beautiful.  

The snow blankets the forest clearing, icicles hung from the leaves on the branches, and a few fallen logs peeked through the white powder of winter. It’s practically a winter wonderland.

It was a small clearing, and the trees created a little cover over the area, branching and intertwining into neat natural braids. The snow had a few prints pressed into it, creating perfect moulds. 

Directly in front of me were a pair of footprints (that are definitely human-sized, unless some bear went around wearing hiking boots), that lead to a low lying tree, where I barely made out two figures, seemingly completely fine, and in a lucky dry spot, where the tree’s branches almost hid them.

I watched as one leant over the other, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

I’m pulled out of my observation by being knocked to the ground with a grunt, a figure falling on top of me and getting us both a foot deep in snow.

Chapter Text

Random Forest Clearing

08:47

Sam’s POV

I bumped into someone, sending us both to the ground, and soaking my jacket with cold and wet snow, as if I wasn’t cold enough already. 

I grunted and went to lift my head up but a tough clasp on the back of my head pulled it back down. 

‘They’ll see us.’ Charlie whispered, releasing my hair gently.

‘What do you mean?’ I breathed. Realisation dawned on me. ‘Are they fucking?!’

‘Keep your voice down!’ They hissed silently. ‘No, they are not! But if we keep being loud they’ll find us, and it’ll be awkward… just trust me.’ 

‘I trust you.’ I whispered, without waiting a moment to answer. I watched their face turn slightly pink and we both seemed to realise I was on top of them. 

In the middle of nowhere.

‘We should go.’ They suggested quietly, and I nodded, climbing off them carefully and keeping my eyes on the place where I’d thought I’d seen the two super soldiers. Before I could look for them in other places, Charlie grabbed my arm and guided me away from the clearing.

I just caught the sight of the two of them kissing and I froze in place. 

‘Sam, we need to go.’ Charlie insisted, barely giving the sight more than a glance, as if it pained them to see the sight. ‘Come on.’ 

I budged just enough for them to be able to tug me along down the trail, away from all of my emotions that I had left in the clearing.

***

09:26

Reader’s POV

‘Your turn, Charlie.’ Parker reminded me, nodding at the +2 uno card in front of me.

I sighed and picked up two, arranging them in my hand. 

‘What happened on that walk? Did you not find Cap and the Manchurian candidate? You’ve been quiet since you got back.’ Stark noticed, clearly worried.

‘I’m fine, Tony. We didn’t find them, got a bit lost, that’s all.’ I lied, giving him a reassuring smile that he seemed to buy.

‘Well, good, because…I’ve got uno.’ He put down a +4 card and Peter groaned. 

‘I’m sorry, Charlie.’ He apologised, giving me a sympathetic smile and placing down another +4 card.

‘I’m sorry for Tin Can over here.’ I placed down my second last card. ‘Uno.’ 

‘TWELVE CARDS, WHAT THE HELL?!’ Stark shouted, and began whining about how it wasn’t fair and “you couldn’t do that, it’s not in the rules”.

I was too distracted by the two newest arrivals in the camp, ones I met with a calculating stare and an “excuse me” as soon as they sat down.

I escaped into my tent, only to be met by Sam, who was also seemingly escaping the group.

‘Hi.’ I murmured, offering an awkward smile.

‘Hi.’ He repeated, sitting next to me. ‘Whatcha reading?’

I showed him the cover. ‘The Women Of Troy.’ I answered, letting him trace a finger over the engraved cover. ‘You can read with me if you like.’ I added hastily.

‘I’d like that.’ Sam agreed, giving me such a gentle and heartwarming smile I was trying too hard to not kiss him right there.

‘1; Inside the horse's gut: heat, darkness, sweat, fear….’

***

Sam’s POV

Steve stood in front of me, holding out a hand as he turned back to look at me, a bright grin framed his face. I reached for his hand but he swung it back in front of him, to grip Bucky’s.

I silently cried out as Steve trailed after him, holding his hand to guide him away.

I tried to run, but my feet were frozen in place, I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and they moved further and further away, as if striving to reach the edge of my sight.

Gentle hands seemed to pull me out of my frozen state. Taking my hands in their own, Charlie smiled gently, gripping one hand and pulling me forward in their gentle jog, guiding me towards where Steve and Buck had disappeared into the horizon, until we reached a clear river, framed by willow trees. 

‘Drink.’ They held out their cupped hands, filled with the crystal water. I gently sipped the liquid, and the fist-sized block in my throat seemed to clear.

‘Thank you.’ I croaked out.

They grinned, letting the rest of the water fall to their feet. ‘Use your voice, Sam.’

I frowned, confusion flooding my senses. ‘What do you mean?’

They turned away, running along the river bank. They turned their head back. ‘Speak loud and clear, Samuel, that way they’ll have to hear you!’ Charlie called, disappearing behind a tree.

I raced after them, tried to find them, but all I could grasp was the leaves of the trees and a small scrap of their dress’s fabric. 

I sighed and turned to the glistening river, listening to the wind.

A gentle brown row-boat drifted to shore, and I fulfilled the urge to get in, gently pressing against the oars and pushing myself backwards along the river. 

‘Sam!’ I turned, pulling the oars in. Steve held out his hand, leaning over the side of a stone bridge, Bucky and Charlie on either side of him. ‘Grab my hand!’

I stood up in the boat, trying not to wobble as I stretched for his hand, reaching upwards as the boat slowly drifted towards the underbelly of the bridge. 

‘Reach further, Sam, come on!’ Steve urged, leaning as far down as he could.

‘I’m trying!’ I strained, standing on tip-toes and jumping for his hand. 

‘Please, Sam.’ Bucky pleaded, reaching down too.

‘Grab our hands.’ Charlie reached down with their own hand, three pairs of hands, reaching down to catch me, when I couldn’t jump high enough for them. 

‘Sam, Sam…’ Charlie called as I jumped, but this voice seemed different, like it was from a different Charlie.

***

12:54

‘Sam!’ I blinked open my eyes, staring up at a smiling Charlie. ‘Good sleep?’ They questioned good-naturedly.  

‘Yeah….I just had the weirdest dream.’ I admitted, smiling back up at them.

‘Well, I hope it was better than my book, because you owe me for falling asleep.’ They joked, swiping the hair out of my face. 

I simply stared up at Charlie, letting my adoration show on my face, rather than masking it behind humour like I normally did. 

This seemed to catch them off guard, and they frowned gently.

‘Come on, lunch is ready, sleepy head.’ They lifted my head off their lap and stood, brushing themselves off and exiting the tent. 

I sighed gently and picked myself up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes exiting the tent.

Chapter Text

12:54

Steve’s POV

It was simple. This love. 

Buck and I sat only slightly closer than normal, still pressed together, still with our knees touching, still joking and laughing and talking like we always did. 

But this time I didn’t have to worry about teasing him a little too much, because I knew it was ok.

Because this is ok.

But will it last? I pushed the anxious thought out of my mind, focused on just being there with him. 

I gently wrapped my arm around his shoulder, leaning into Bucky’s shoulder as he continued his commentary on The Silmarillion’s writing style. I listened, intaking each note he remarked and tucking them away in my mind to remember.

My gaze drifted away from the fire, across to Charlie and Sam, who were sitting next to each other, but having conversations with two different people. Sam was talking with Natasha, and Charlie was having an in depth discussion with Loki. I tried not to stare too much at Sam’s grin, the way it widened every time Nat cracked a joke, or made fun of someone. 

It was always sweet to see him smile, but now it was even sweeter, when his happiness only made me happier for him.

Reader’s POV

‘I’m not exactly sure why I’m here in the first place, I think I was kind of just dragged along.’ Lo admitted, a small smile on his face. 

‘I was half-dragged along. I wanted to come, but Stark made sure of it.’ I chuckled. ‘Have you found something to do?’ 

‘Not really. The mortals are kind of boring, so I’ve been inspecting the trees and plant growth. Though limited, I have found a few rare herbs I could use every now and again.’ He admitted.

‘Oh so I’m boring now?’ I joked, playfully hitting his knee. 

‘Ha.’ He let out a short laugh. ‘Boring, no. Mortal, yes.’ 

‘Why am I not boring? I would’ve thought I have the most boring personality of everyone here.’ I remarked, examining him with a curious look.

‘I like your stories. They’re interesting.’ Lo admitted.

‘Hmm.’ I let out a short, thoughtful hum.

No use lying if he already knows, right?

‘Last night tonight, get packing early tomorrow morning, or else I’m loading you still inside the tents into the van.’ Tony threatened, waving his hot dog around menacingly.

Killer hot dog.

15:06

‘Sam, have you seen my jacket? It’s freezing out here and it’s not in my bag.’ I called, rubbing my arms together to keep warm. 

‘No, I haven’t. Have you checked with Parker? He ducked into our tent earlier.’ Wilson recalled, pointing to Peter and Tony’s shared tent. 

A cry escaped through the flap right as I turned towards the tent, before Parker scrambled out, wearing only a t-shirt and pants. 

He scrambled to close the rapidly shaking tent and breathed a sigh of relief when he had closed it, and turned towards us.

‘Do not go in there.’ He advised, pointing behind him.

‘What’s in your tent, Parker?’ I questioned, raising an eyebrow accusingly.

‘Nothing.’ He answered, far too quickly.

‘Pete, why is our tent shaking like it’s got a tornado in it?’ Tony asked, examining the walls of said shelter.

‘Ummmm…..’ He suddenly turned a bright shade of guilt. ‘I found an otter, and it looked hungry and cold, so I let it into our tent and then I ran out of food to give it, so now it’s angry.’ Peter admitted.

I stared at him incredulously and sighed.

‘Let me deal with this.’ I marched towards the tent, unzipped it and managed to grab hold of the otter by a paw. 

I let the otter struggle for a moment and then let it relax in my grip. ‘That’s right, buddy, I’m not here to hurt you.’ I assured them, letting them scramble up my arm and around my shoulders. ‘Come on, let’s get you to the river, your family is probably waiting.’ 

I strode down to the riverside, gently crouching so the otter could jump off my shoulders and to the riverside. They gave a short nod, and slipped into the icy water, away from the humans in our campsite.

As soon as I returned Sam immediately grabbed one arm, Parker the other and they began inspecting, checking all sides of my skin.

‘Are you right?’ I asked, frowning.

‘How did you not get bitten, or scratched, or growled at?’ Sam questioned confusedly.

‘We’re distant cousins, I just gave them a ride back home.’ I replied simply.

‘I’m not sure that's how evolution works, Dagger.’ Parker admitted, frowning. ‘I think you’d have to be very distant cousins.’ He gave me a confused look.

‘Says the guy who can stick to walls and can tell when something bad is going to happen, all because he got bitten by a radioactive spider.’ I retorted.

Parker gave me an offended look but let the subject settle.

Sam, however, was eyeing me up and down.

‘You’re not a selkie, are you?’ He questioned.

‘How do you know about selkies?’ I returned, giving him a judging look. ‘And no.’

‘I heard a story. What about a mermaid?’ Sam asked. 

‘No, Sam, I’m not a mermaid, or a selkie, or a swan maiden, or anything stupid like that. If I were a mythical creature I’d be something less graceful and pretty.’ I corrected, rolling my eyes. 

‘So like…a platypus!’

‘Platypi are real, Samuel.’ I pointed out.

***

21:21

‘It’s nice and warm in here.’ I shivered, zipping closed the tent flap.

‘It is freezing out there. Come warm up.’ Sam patted the spot next to him, and I sat. ‘What chapter were you up to when I fell asleep?’

‘How should I know?’ I questioned, passing him the book. 

‘I think it was sometime in the camp.’ He mumbled, flicking through the pages and letting out a satisfied hum when he found the page. ‘Do you mind if I read without you?’ 

‘Not at all, Samuel. I’m way ahead of where you were anyway.’ I assured him, smiling. 

‘You won’t get bored, will you?’ He asked, turning to me.

‘Not at all. I’m not one to get so bored I fall asleep.’ I joked, nudging him. 

‘You’re gonna hold that against me forever, aren’t you?’ I raised my eyebrows, giving him a sassy look. ‘You’re impossible.’

I grinned, leaning into his shoulder. 

Sam’s POV

‘You’re impossible.’ I sighed. They simply grinned and leaned into my shoulder, letting out a relaxed sigh.

I tried not to still against their touch, focused my mind on reading, but it was difficult when their hands gently wrapped around my arm, feeding off the warmth of my skin to warm their fingertips.

‘Are you suffering from some kind of hypothermia? Your hands are freezing.’ I accused, trying (and failing) to hide the worry that was within me.

‘I’m fine, Samuel, just a little cold.’ Charlie excused, giving me a reassuring smile. 

Without even thinking about it I wrapped one arm around them, settled it on their shoulder and pulled them in closer. 

I felt them stiffen at the touch and then slowly relax into me, leaning their head against my shoulder with a calm sigh.

What are you doing? My thoughts scolded. You shouldn’t be touching them like this. You shouldn’t be so close to them. You didn’t ask. What if they have a problem with it?

‘Is this ok?’ I questioned softly, trying not to breathe in too much of their chamomile-honey scent. 

‘It’s ok.’ They whispered, shuffled and laid their head on my lap, so that I had one arm over their upper right arm, and they had their head resting on my thighs. ‘Is this ok?’ 

‘Yeah.’ I managed to answer, trying not to focus on how close they were.

Their breathing is on your leg.

Shut it. I hissed back to my mind. Stop trying to distract me.

‘Are you reading or are you just sticking to one page?’ They asked, pleasantly interrupting my thoughts.

‘Ok, ok, I’m reading now.’ I chuckled, opening the book back up and following each word on the page. 

I barely noticed their breathing had slowed until they let out a contented sigh and turned, their eyes closed and letting out impossibly soft snores. I couldn’t help but smile at their peaceful form, their guard clearly down with their consciousness.

I carefully moved Charlie from my lap onto their pillow, placed down the book after bookmarking my page and lay down next to them, pulling a blanket over their figure. I let them turn around sleepily and wrap their arms around me, huddling into me for warmth. 

Guess there is some hope.

***

January 5th, 2021.

07:13

Reader POV

‘Hey Dagger, did you see my uno cards? I was going to play uno with Ms. Nat and you, seeing Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes have driving duty.’ Parker questioned, looking confused.

‘You left them in the back pocket of your backpack.’ I answered, pointing to the bag, currently being loaded into the boot by Tony. 

‘Thanks!’ I nodded and he rushed off after the bag.

‘Any plans when we get back?’ Lo asked, eyeing the van carefully, as if it might hurt her.

‘Plans? No. I–’ My phone buzzed in my pocket and I checked.

Unknown number. Weird.

I pulled open the message, tracing the words in my mind. 

Diary is up for grabs. Take it or leave it. 

Tonight only. 

2300 to 0000. 

Living room.

Loki and I shared a look as she looked up from her own phone. 

This is not good . “Not good” with a capital N and G, underlined, and in red ink.

Chapter Text

Living Room, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA. 

January 5th, 2021.

23:56

I could hear every breath in the room. Natasha and Yelena had distinct trained-shallow breaths, whereas Sam and Barnes had short gasp-y breaths. As far as I knew, they weren’t the only ones in the room, but they were the only ones I’d managed to spot and/or find out would be staking out the journal.

Are you sure they won’t see us? My anxiety whispered.

A cloak of shadows is hard to break, even for an experienced sorcerer or witch. I reminded it.

The air shimmered around the book, and I watched as it swiftly disappeared from its place on the coffee table. As soon as the journal in question had disappeared, the lights blasted on, forcing me to blink a little and adjust my eyes.

Where the mysterious thief stood, there was a shadow cast, the only thing tying them to sight. I let down my cloak of shadows and pulled myself out of the curtains, stepping towards the shadow. 

‘Reveal yourself.’ I commanded.

I watched as the stranger listened to the concise instruction, green light flashing softly in comparison to the brightness of the room’s lighting.

The stranger turned and offered me a sombre, guilty smile.

‘Lo?’ My mind filled with confusion, and I could subconsciously hear the others emerging from their hiding places, questioning him further. 

He knows it’s yours. My mind reminded me.

So why does he want it?

‘So it’s yours!’ Sam accused, a slight confused look settling on his face.

‘It’s not mine, it was simply “up for grabs” and I wished to have it.’ Loki specified, but the more questions and accusations he got the more guilty he seemed. 

‘It’s mine!’ I shouted, grabbing the journal from Lo’s hands and flashing him a melancholy apologetic look. ‘It’s mine.’ I repeated softly.

That backfired.  

Get out of my head. My brain did not get out of my head. That was very rude of it. 

‘Dagger, you do not have to defend my brother.’ Thor assured, a sympathetic smile on his face.

‘This isn’t defence, Odinson. It’s mine, and I’ll prove it.’ I pulled a piece of paper from the back of the book and thrust the journal in question into Stark’s hands. 

I wrote one repeated sentence thrice and passed Tony the paper.

“But I’ll never know when I’ll leave sooner than I’ll arrive.” 

‘The handwriting matches perfectly.’ Stark whispered, but it was loud enough to echo in the silence of the room.

Say something. Someone.

I’d barely finished this thought when the looming tidal wave broke.

‘Who were you writing about?’

‘Why did Loki take the book?’ 

‘That was some very graphic shit.’

‘Shut up!’ I shouted, and the room fell silent. ‘These are my private writings. It’s none of your fucking business to know who I was writing about, let alone have seen these without my permission in the first place. Let this be an example of how you can intrude on people’s privacy.’ I hissed.

‘Will you–’

I didn’t let Rogers finish that sentence. ‘No, I will not continue writing.’ 

Liar. My mind whispered.

Shut it.

‘I am not ashamed of myself or what I wrote about. It’s my right to have emotions and process them in healthy ways, including writing them down. If I see anyone so much as touch my apartment door without my permission, you will receive several broken limbs.’ I threatened. ‘And to whoever stole the book from my stuff in the first place, fuck you.’

I left the group in stunned silence and raced back to my room, swiping away the prickling tears in my eyes.

I placed the book down on my breakfast bar and pulled on pyjamas. 

I climbed into bed and curled myself into a foetal position, clutching a pillow close to my chest.

‘I’m sorry.’ I sobbed.

Not to anyone in particular, just to the world. It didn’t feel right to have emotions. It didn’t feel right to have so many for so long.

Chapter Text

Charlie’s Room, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA. 

January 6th, 2021.

09:32

‘Dagger?’ I heard the knock on the door, the gentle questioning tone that was asking for entry. ‘I brought food.’ 

Dammit, Lo. Bribery works too well. 

‘Come in.’ I croaked, maintaining my position in my bed. 

I heard the slight creak of the door and it closing softly behind her. The tray clattered gently against the breakfast bar, clearly holding some kind of metal cutlery. I moved my feet out of the way for her to sit on the end of the bed with a sigh. 

‘Why’d you do it?’ I questioned softly. 

Loki let out a short scoff. ‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’

I turned from my side and sat up. ‘Answer me, Loki.’ 

She sighed. ‘I was going to return it to you. I didn’t want you to take the blame, and then get found out, so I was going to take the blow for you. I didn’t realise practically everyone in the compound would be hiding in the one room.’ 

My face turned to shock, and then gratefulness. ‘That was an amazingly kind thought, Lo.’ I praised, smiling gently. ‘I mean it royally failed, but it’s the thought that counts.’

She gave me a sad smile. ‘Well, that’s what breakfast is for. A bit of an apology, I suppose.’ She admitted. 

I gave her a grateful smile and pulled myself out of bed, taking in the smell of bacon and eggs. ‘Smells amazing. Thank you, Lo.’ Her smile joined mine. ‘You’re a really good friend, however badly the others might think of you.’ 

Her smile turned to confusion, blended with shock. ‘Did you…I’m your friend?’ 

‘Of course.’ I smiled, and she beamed. ‘Now, I better eat this delicious food before it gets cold. Would you like to join me, madame?’ 

***

13:02

I tried to ignore the stares I was clearly receiving, having emerged from my room for the first time that day. 

Loki stood almost as a guard next to me, forcing anyone who dared come close with a glare worse than Medusa’s it seemed. 

‘Finally facing the music, huh?’ Apparently Romanoff had managed to get past the gorgon guard. 

‘Not at all, Romanoff. I was just leaving.’ I strode out of the kitchen, the emerald-eyed god not far behind. 

As I turned a corner I almost ran into someone. 

We’re really making this a habit, aren’t we?

‘Captain.’ I nodded and pushed past him, gripping my plate so tight the ceramic began to crack. 

I felt a grip on my wrist pulling me back. I turned towards Rogers and held his eye contact. He released my wrist and opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead decided better and turned away. 

I let Loki guide me back to my room, and I closed the door behind us, trying to forget whatever Rogers might’ve said. 

Get a grip.

I heard a ping and reached for my phone but Loki held up a hand, signalling it was her phone. 

‘Damn. I’ve got a mission, will you be alright here?’ She asked, clearly worried. 

‘I’ll be fine, Lo. Go do your job.’ I encouraged, plastering on a fake smile. She seemed partially unconvinced, but took my final nod as reassurance, closing the door behind me. 

I sighed and sat on my bed, staring down at my plate. 

I took a bite of my sandwich and pulled my journal out of my bedside drawer.

See? Liar. My thoughts reminded me. You said you wouldn’t write.

Shut it. I thought back. It wasn’t my choice to read it aloud. Not without pressure and circumstance. I reminded myself.

It’s all too real now.

Too real to bear.

I repeated the sentence in my mind and moved on.

I know they know, or at least have some kind of clue.

It’s not their fault. It’s mine. 

I claimed it and the truth.

“The truth sets you free” is a common phrase, but to me, the truth is making me feel more isolated and imprisoned than ever.

Questions and opinions are trapping my mind and personality, locking me in a cage of stereotypes.

And I know I should stop this. 

Stop my writing. Stop my thoughts. 

I’m drowning in them. Choking on people’s opinions of me.

The comments people judge me with.

I should stop. But I can’t.

Not can’t. Won’t.

So I’ll force myself to.

I close the book and pick myself up, dragging myself to the kitchen to stack my plate in the dishwasher and click it on, wiping the excess water off my hands, the one you always find in dishwashers, because they’re just always finding areas to live in. 

I almost headbutted Sam, who was way too close to be safely near me.

‘Sorry.’ I apologised, giving him a small smile.

‘’S alright.’ He mumbled, returning my smile. I turned away, eager to leave before more people could awkwardly smile at me and try to seem apologetic or pitying. He grabbed my wrist gently and pulled me back, forcing me to turn. ‘Could we talk? In private?’

I thought over this for a second, then gave a gentle nod.

***

13:41

He closed the door behind us, signalling that this was an actual private conversation.

I watched him as he turned from the door and sat next to me on the bed, clasping his hands together tightly.

He’s nervous.

‘Listen, Sam-’

‘I just need to talk for a second, do you think you could listen?’ I took in a sharp breath and nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have participated in all of that. It was a breach of privacy, whether it was your diary or not, and I shouldn’t have encouraged it, let alone been a part of it. I’m sorry for breaking your trust, and I want to know how I can help you regain that trust.’ He confessed.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. ‘Sam. You haven’t broken my trust. Am I a little pissed? Yeah. Does it kinda suck having my private life read aloud to the entire compound? Also yeah. But I don’t mind so much about you and some of the others finding out about it.’ I reassured, then rapidly let go of his hand when I realised I’d been holding it. 

‘You’re not angry?’

‘A little. But mostly at whoever stole the diary in the first place. You’ve done nothing wrong.’ I assured him.

He smiled gratefully, a weight seemingly off his shoulders. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘For what?’

‘For not going psycho killer on me. And for being understanding.’ I grinned at this.

‘Anytime.’ I promised.

***

14:03

Sam hadn’t left too long ago, but now I was stuck with my mind and boredom. 

I could do something with Nat, if she wasn’t going to grill me about my decisions. 

I could go swimming, if it wasn’t so cold my feet could’ve fallen off.

But of course that reminded me too much of other things, so better not. 

Training it is.

***

Gym, Avengers Compound.

15:08

I landed each punch with precision, channelling my anger into energy to burn away like paper.

Now they know.

Another punch.

They hate you for it.

Side kick.

This is just like before.

Uppercut.

They’ll leave you dying on the cold floors again. Like you deserve.

I jabbed with enough force that the punching bag goes flying across the room, sand spilling from the slice my hands have made in the middle of the equipment. 

I sighed and strode over, picking up the bag with ease and dragging it into the “to be repaired” pile. 

Thanks to the super-soldiers’ habit of destroying the punching bags, I could pretty much get away with accidentally destroying the sports equipment.

Another secret.

I hung up a second bag and started kicking, pushing away the bag with my foot’s impact and pulling it back to knee the pseudo-target. 

Stop hiding.

Roundhouse kick.

Liar. 

Side kick. 

No trust.

Crescent kick.

Coward. Hiding from yourself. Hiding yourself from everyone around you.

Knee strike.

No one can love a liar.

My axe kick knocks the bag off its hook, forcing it to fall onto the floor, and by definition, my left foot, which is resting beneath it. 

‘Fuck!’ I yelped, pushing the bag off of my foot and nursing it gently. 

‘You alright?’ I jumped. I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t alone in the gym. 

Barnes approached me, stopping about a metre away as if to ask permission to move closer. I gave him a simple nod and he stepped closer, leaning down to observe my foot.

It was slowly swelling with a redness almost the colour of Romanoff’s hair, purple already rimming the edges. 

He reached his hand down, ghosting his hand along my foot. Carefully, he pulled my foot into his hand and he traced the bruise, placing pressure on each place and carefully listening for my whince at each pressed point. 

‘It’s not broken. I’ll get you some ice.’ Barnes gently released my foot and stood. 

I carefully pulled myself up, keeping the weight off my foot. ‘I can get my own ice, Barnes.’ I carefully stood on my left foot, biting my lip to stop myself from yelping as I carefully made my way to the door. 

‘You’re not going to get to the kitchen before you’re ninet if you keep walking. Sit.’ He pressed against my shoulders and I sat on the bench, helpless against his firm grip. ‘I’ll be back.’ 

‘Yeah, whatever, Terminator.’ I grumbled, earning the edge of an amused smile from Barnes. 

He quickly hid the amusement away again and left, off to fetch me some ice.

Like a knight in shining armour. I thought. Ha, shining arm-our. 

I’m not much of a damsel in distress, despite my foot hurting like shit, I’m fine.

‘What the hell happened to you?’ Nat leant against the wall, as if she’d just appeared.

‘Yeah, your foot looks like a swollen grape.’ Yelena let out a dramatic gasp. ‘Are you turning into a blueberry like Violet Beuraguard?’ 

‘No, I am not.’ I confirmed, glaring at her. ‘A punching bag fell on my foot. Now Barnes is off to get me some ice.’ 

‘Ouch.’ Natasha frowned. ‘To the foot thing, not the love-of-your-life taking care of your boo-boo.’ 

I stared daggers at her. ‘He’s not the love of my life, and he was adamant about going to get it because otherwise I “wouldn’t get to the kitchen before I turn ninety”, apparently.’ I elucidated. 

‘Still romantic.’ Yelena teased. 

‘And how’s Kate, Yelena?’ I turned to her. She was a shade of bright red, annoyance and embarrassment clear on her face.

‘Touché.’ She shrugged it off and moved over to the target range, picking up a standard glock and sliding the soundproof glass door closed so we didn’t have to hear the bullets firing.

‘I’ve got your ice.’ Barnes threw me the packet and I caught it with one hand, pressing the ice pack to my foot. He noticed Nat. ‘Romanoff.’ He gave her a nod and she returned it, joining Yelena in the firing range. 

‘Thank you.’ I mumbled, trying to find some way to distract myself from the freezing sensation in my foot. I looked up at him, meeting his glacier blue eyes, the ones I left too many memories in. 

‘You’re welcome.’ He returned, holding my eye contact. 

A thousand different memories echoed through my mind, ripples on a lake. 

This time I let the memories of Hydra come. 

Let my mind wave over the calm moments I had with the only other humanoid in the facilities. 

He coughed and broke eye contact, sitting next to me. I broke out of my trance and returned my breathing to a more regular state.

‘How did you even manage to swing the punching bag off its hook?’ He questioned, glancing over my now-yellow bruise. 

‘I have a bit more force in me than you might think. The right impact and the right swing can bring it off its hook.’ I shrugged, as if he hadn’t seen how much stronger I am than I seemed to be. 

Fuck what if he saw the other punching bag. 

‘How long were you standing there anyway?’ I asked, trying to hide my curiosity. 

‘About a minute before you crushed your foot.’ 

Thank the gods.

‘Hm.’ I let out a soft hum and stood. ‘Thanks for the ice. I’m going to rest my foot. Good luck with training.’ I wished, slowly walking out of the gym and letting my heart beat slow at the reassurance. 

***

My journal sat open on the bed, open to a clean new page. Empty, except for three words.

“Please don’t stop.”

The neat letters needed no further explanation, nothing more than those three words in the simple font of their personal handwriting. 

Guess I won’t stop then.

Chapter Text

Library, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA.

January 7th, 2021. 

12:03

Are you mine?

A common question, a common set of answers.

“Yes”, “no”, “maybe”, “I’d like to be”.

But it’s never “just wait”, not “maybe one day”, never “I couldn’t tell you”, not “that’s all I ever wanted”. 

Please be mine. 

I want to be yours.

And maybe not only you, any, maybe all of you. Maybe more.

Satisfaction feels like a distant memory that comes alive when I lock eyes with you. 

It’s alive in my mind, and half of me hates it. 

But the other half relishes the thoughts like a soldier home from war.

I switched to my red pen, adding a little note at the bottom.

PS: Just take the book, it’s easier than trying to read it all in five minutes. I expect it to be returned. 

‘What’re you working on?’ I jumped at Natasha’s teasing voice.

‘Gods, Natasha! What’s wrong with you? I could’ve hurt you!’ I scolded.

She scoffed. ‘Fat chance.’ 

I rolled my eyes and closed the book. ‘Just writing.’ I answered.

‘I thought you said you weren’t going to?’ Nat taunted.

‘Cap can deal with a couple of lies. I’m not exactly sure he’s very keen to know whether I’ve been writing, either.’ I reasoned. Nat simply nodded along with her usual smug look. 

‘Ok, I believe you.’ She flashed me a smile like she knew something more and sat next to me. ‘Now, what’re we planning to do next?’ 

‘Well….’ 

***

Kitchen, Avengers Compound.

January 9th, 2021.

14:43

I held a finger to my lips as our first victim entered the kitchen, unknowingly about to be attacked. Nat nodded and signalled our positions. 

I gave her a thumbs up and crawled to the edge of the kitchen island, meeting her eyes through the ventilation shaft. 

I stood quickly, releasing a quick shout that made Wanda jump backwards and drop the milk carton. She caught the carton with her powers and clutched her chest.

‘You scared me, Dagger! Don't jump out at people like–’ She spluttered as the bucket’s worth of water spilled down from the ceiling onto her. She coughed and wiped the water out of her eyes. ‘Oh come on!’ 

‘You fell for it, Maximoff!’ Nat called through the vent. 

Wanda laughed it off and picked up the now spilled milk. ‘Alright, but I’m not cleaning this up.’ 

‘Too late!’ I raced out of the kitchen, desperately avoiding having mop-duty.

***

16:47

‘Ok, we’ve gotten Wanda, Bruce, Tony and Thor, who’s next?’ Nat questioned, going through the list of possible victims. 

‘Loki and Sam.’ I confirmed. She nodded and we made our way off to find our possible victims.

***

17:15

‘I’m just saying, Ms Belova, that magic is not as simple as you think it to be. I can’t just cast an invisibility curse on Ms Romanoff without her permission!’ Loki turned the corner and I pressed the airhorn, causing him to jump backwards in alarm, hair sticking up like a cat. ‘What the hel–’

The water dripped down his shoulders, his hair well and truly soaked. He sighed and coughed, shaking himself gently and letting his magic do the rest of the work in drying him.

‘Gods dammit!’ I cursed, shaking a fist. ‘I forgot about that.’ 

‘Try better next time, you two!’ Lo called while walking away to catch up with Yelena, who was clearly plotting something. 

***

17:38

‘How are Sarah and the boys?’ Rogers asked curiously, walking into Sam’s room next to him. I bit my lip to stop from releasing noise.

Two birds, one stone.

‘Good, they’re good. Sarah isn’t selling the boat, so that’s great. We’re getting the old thing repaired, slowly but surely, so hopefully it’ll be back and functioning once we’re done.’ I flicked the lights off at the end of his sentence and pulled on the “Scream” mask. 

I let out purposely heavy breaths, slipping behind the curtains as Rogers flicked the lights back on with a concerned hum. 

‘Do you think we should tell Stark his tech is faulty again, or will he murder us before we get the chance?’ Sam joked. Rogers let out a short, breathy laugh, clearly amused.

‘I’m sure it’s fine.’ Rogers reassured, though I think mostly to himself. 

I flicked off the lights again, then made them flicker and return to normal as I dove under the bed, leaving the curtains waving. 

‘I swear to god, whoever thinks this is funny, I have seen too many horror movies this past week, and I’m prepared!’ Sam threatened, standing up. 

‘It’s fine, Sam, just leave it.’ Rogers soothed calmingly. Sam sighed and sat, pulling his legs up off the floor and onto the bed. 

I flicked the lights off again and grabbed Steve’s ankle, flicking them on and off as he pulled his foot out of my grip and shouted. I flipped them off again and crawled out, standing silently behind the two men. 

‘It was right there! Someone grabbed my leg!’ Steve insisted, clearly panicked and pointing enthusiastically to underneath the bed. 

‘Ok, come on, whoever it is, come out now!’ Sam called. 

‘I thought I did that ages ago.’ I replied. 

Sam screamed as he realised me behind him, and jumped backwards, gripping the first thing he could, which was my shirt, and pulling me right under the vent with himself. 

Before I could yell “stop”, Romanoff was dunking us both under the cold water, making me shiver and shake as I spluttered and pulled the ruined “Scream” mask off of my head. 

‘Really, Nat?!’ I gave the vent a “seriously uncalled for” gesture, and then flipped her off when she laughed. 

‘So not cool, Charlie! I was really scared!’ Sam pushed my shoulder playfully. 

‘Sorry, but it was mostly Nat’s idea.’ I admitted. I got another bucket full of water. ‘Ok, I deserved that.’ 

‘For what it’s worth, you’d make a good horror film actor. I genuinely thought some demon was trying to drag me down to hell or something.’ Rogers complimented, grinning.

‘Well, you’re welcome for the good scare.’ I smiled. ‘Now, I’ve gotta get dried off.’ 

‘You’re cleaning my carpet!’ Sam called after me. 

‘No, I’m not!’ I called back.

***

Charlie’s Room.

January 11th, 2021.

10:21

‘Why don’t you write something to the reader again?’ Lo suggested, leaning over my shoulder, eyes glistening. ‘You’ve gotten bolder since you first wrote to them specifically, maybe they’ll reply.’

It’s true, I have. In all senses of the word. In all contexts.

It had occurred to me that Loki may be the reader, but they would’ve asked if they wanted to read, and they were aware they could be honest with me.

I wrote a simple message, one word.

Feedback?

‘Let’s see if they reply.’ I murmured, placing the book on my bedside table as I always did.

***

January 12th, 2021.

02:31

The book is gone, and my bedside table is empty. 

They must’ve taken it.

***

09:19

I flicked forward to the last page I wrote on, which is….

Full of notations. 

The handwriting is messy, and different from the first and otherwise only reply I received.

They’re writing with their non dominant. I thought. They know I’ll check for handwriting.

While the scrawl was hard to read, I could understand it, with lots of squinting and Lo’s help.

‘It’s so flirty.’ She chuckled, amused.

‘And kinda cheesy too.’ I admitted, pointing to a couple of the lines. ‘But they wrote in it.’

‘They sure did, tomato cheeks.’ Lo teased, pointing out my blush.

I simply grinned and kept reading.

Chapter Text

Charlie’s Room, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA.

January 13th, 2021.

11:43

‘You know, he who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence.’ Loki quoted, poking me in the side as I bounced my knee.

‘You’re not helping with my impatience.’ I remarked, staring out the window intently.

‘Remind me why you’re so impatient? It’s been barely a week, and so far, they’ve listened to your requests.’ Lo reminded me. ‘I’m not sure you can ask for much more.’ 

‘Watch me.’ I grumbled, though I made no action to move away. 

Loki sighed beside me and took a sip of his tea. ‘You could always catch them in the act.’ He suggested.

I snapped out of my bored trance, turning to him. ‘That might just be a good idea.’ 

‘I’m full of them.’ Loki grinned. I scoffed, but my mind was too alive with new opportunities to care much about his sass. 

I picked up the journal and flicked to the next blank page, writing one simple sentence.

I’ll be waiting.

***

Living Room/Eating Area.

13:04

‘Hey Sam.’ I sat next to him. ‘How’s today going for you?’ I asked curiously.

‘Hey. Fine, not much on. Buck and Steve are back today, hopefully.’ He frowned and I spotted a few lines of worry tracing his face. ‘They haven’t been in contact since they got to the base. I’m worried.’

‘They’ll be alright, Sam. Those two are like cockroaches, you can’t kill them even if you wanted to.’ I reassured, although the news brought my own spark of worry. ‘I’m sure they’ll be in communication soon.’ I promised.

Sam opened his mouth to say something but before he could, the walkie-talkie next to him crackled to life. 

‘Landing now.’ Rogers’ voice sounded from the device. 

I shared a look with Sam. I didn’t know Rogers as well as him, but I’d heard enough emotions in my life to know that he wasn’t happy.

Something happened. He’s gonna need something to take it out on.

I had a feeling that the gym was going to be covered in sand and empty punching bags by the end of the day.

I glanced up at the less-than-light pair of footsteps, and the inseparable pair stormed in. 

They were both equally sweaty, dusty and both had a few injuries, mostly cuts and bruises. 

The mission did not go well.

They sat opposite Sam and I, staring at the ground with matching expressions, as if it had personally offended them. 

‘Do you want some water, or some food?’ I offered, trying to keep the sass out of my voice. 

Yep, that failed.

They gave me a matching glare that made me want to squirm in my place, the same unamused, murderous expression. I bit my cheek as I felt chills run down my spine. 

‘I’ll take that as a no.’ I mumbled, standing and excusing myself. 

‘Remember your plan.’ Lo whispered in my ear, catching up to me in the hall.

‘I’m trying to.’ I murmured back, gulping away the feeling their look had left me with and focusing my mind. 

***

Charlie’s Room.

23:18

I lay silently in my bed, sticking to the starfish-like position I often woke up in and kept my breathing shallow and soft. 

Padded footsteps were almost-silent against the floor, even to my level of hearing. 

I felt the light pressure of someone’s hand against the sheets and blankets, and then a sudden lack of it as if it had been pulled away. 

‘What are you doing?’ The question was breathed so soft I couldn’t pick the voice, or who had said it, only that they were about a metre to my lower left.

There was no response except for a soft patting of a hand against chest. 

Hot breath warmed my face and I forced myself not to flinch or even twitch. 

Once more the body was pulled away but it returned close to my face. 

‘Steve–’ He didn’t get the chance to finish the warning.

I wrapped my legs around the person’s waist, twisting around so that I now held them against the head of the bed, my dagger at their throat. 

‘Hello there, Captain.’ I greeted, smirking. 

‘I told you not to do it, Steve.’ Sam sighed. I watched Rogers’ eyes turn to realisation.

Took him a little long to catch up.

‘To be fair, I did warn you lot. It's not my fault Captain Voyeur here got impatient.’ I taunted, keeping my grip steady on the dagger. 

Impatient like you did.

‘You were expecting us?’ Barnes’ voice was smug, despite the situation.

‘Not you three specifically.’ I admitted, dipping my head to the side. ‘But I knew whoever the reader, or readers, were, they would show up. I got…impatient.’ I grinned. ‘Now get out.’

I climbed off Rogers and waved a hand towards the door, indicating they should leave. 

‘Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it, doll.’ Rogers taunted, stepping towards me. 

A knot twisted in my stomach. 

Foul play, Rogers. 

‘You’re the ones breaking into my room without my permission, to read my journal without permission. Think about this logically.’ I pointed out, keeping my face unreadable. 

‘We’ve got you figured out, Dagger, you can’t lie to us.’ Samuel had an annoyingly true point.

‘Yeah…no. You figured out my act. Now get out.’ I ordered, scowling.

Rogers was so quick in his movement it took me a moment to realise he had pushed me against the wall, pinning me by the shoulders. 

‘Don’t pretend this is an act, Dagger.’ He hissed.

Fuck. This is too close. He’s too close.

‘You get everything you want, don’t you Captain?’ I chuckled, matching his gaze with the same power and authority. ‘How does it feel not to get something you want so badly?’ I taunted. 

His smirk dropped and I took his distraction as a chance to push out of his grip. 

‘Get the fuck out of my room, you three. I don’t want to see you here again.’ I ordered, and they skulked towards the door, clearly defeated, but still frustrated about it, clear by their glaring.

I gave Sam a “we’ll talk about this tomorrow” look and he looked away guiltily. 

Barnes stopped just before the door and turned. ‘I hope you’re happy hiding yourself.’ He spoke clearly, his accent shining through his deep voice. He turned back and left, and I closed the door behind him.

My stomach sunk down into the floor.

You’re hiding yourself. Just like him. I thought. That way they’ll never know what you’re thinking. They’ll never know your emotions.

I choked back a sob and leant back against the door. 

I pushed my feet forward, stumbled into the bed and clenched the sheets to my chest, breathing in the faint vanilla scent that Steve had left when I had pressed him against the headboard. 

Idiot.

***

Chapter Text

Dining/Living Area, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York.

January 14th, 2021.

8:21

I sat at the table with Lo, taking my time eating yoghurt and keeping my eyes on him opposite me. He was biting his cheek in excitement, barely able to hold his tongue. 

Maybe it was mean forcing him to wait. 

Nah, he can wait another minute.

I finished my bowl of yoghurt and he grinned eagerly, releasing a breath. 

‘Sooo, who was it? What were they doing? Did anything happen?’ He questioned.

‘Nothing happened.’ I replied simply, shrugging.

‘They weren’t there?’ He frowned. 

‘Oh no, they were.’ I assured him. ‘Let’s just say they’re seeing red right about…..now.’ 

Cue the shouting.  

I wasn’t disappointed. 

‘Son of a–’ 

‘Language!’ About three voices called. 

‘Language, Captain!’ I chimed, just as he stormed into the room, Barnes and Wilson by his side. 

All three were covered head to toe in red paint, dripping it all over the floors. 

‘You little–’ James trailed off as soon as he realised there were other people in the room.

‘Me little what?’ I teased, giving them an innocent look I barely gave anyone. ‘Go on, finish your sentence, sarge.’ I added a wink, just because I could.

Ohhhh they are so pissed.

‘Nothing.’ He grumbled.

‘That’s what I thought.’ I called as they left, and then leant towards Loki. 

‘You’re more mischievous than I thought.’ Lo whispered.

‘The war has only just begun, Laufeyson. The war has only just begun.’ I smirked. 

‘But all three of them? I’m jealous.’ He grinned. 

‘Don’t be. They’re a pain in the ass, and not the good kind.’ I remarked, eyeing the trail of red paint. 

***

14:05

Lo and I had agreed to part ways for the rest of the day, having spent most of the last week in each other's company. 

I was carefully painting along the lines I’d drawn on a small canvas, dipping the paintbrush in a dash of water for a little more of a dripping effect. 

This is pleasant.

I sighed contentedly, watching the dust particles dance in the sunlight shining through the window.

Hang on, I’m happy. 

Something’s wrong.

Just as that thought left my mind, a metal canister dropped on my bed, and I hurried to cover my eyes as they started to swell. 

Tear gas.

I threw the sheets over the canister, which did absolutely jackshit about stopping the gas. As most luxury, breathable, egyptian cotton or whatever-the-fuck sheets did. 

‘Friday! Ventilate the room!’ 

‘Sorry, I have been instructed not to do so.’ She replied calmly, as if I wasn’t choking on a very painful gas.

‘Ventilate the room now!’ I shouted, coughing through my tears. 

‘I can’t do that.’ She repeated.

I swore and raced to my door, pulling the door handle, which immediately fell off.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

I was trapped, with tear gas and no escape. 

I hid in the closet and slammed closed the door, pressing my face into the fabric of my clothes, hoping it would be enough to keep away the smoke….mostly.

The gas finally cleared and I left my hiding place.

My mirror reflected my devilish appearance, nose running, eyes bloodshot, puffy and watering, and my hair was a mess. 

I hate whoever did this.

***

14:51

Lo pulled open the door, took one look at my face and cracked up, holding a hand to his chest as he laughed. 

It was a pure sound, though that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

‘What happened?’ He asked, allowing me into his room.

‘Some dipshit tear gassed my room, turned off ventilation and broke my door handle.’ I elucidated, taking a seat on his neatly folded bed. ‘I look like a demon.’

‘I’ve seen much better looking demons.’ Loki joked, though his smile dropped when he saw my expression. 

He smiled empathetically and grabbed a couple of vials off his shelf.

‘Not funny. I have sensitive eyes.’ I whined, crossing my arms.

‘Put this on your eyelids, it’ll help reduce the swelling.’ He instructed, passing me a vial.

I closed my eyes and dipped my finger into the vial, gently tracing circles of the cool oil along my eyelids. Slowly, the burning feeling soothed, and my eyes didn’t feel as puffy.

‘Better?’ I nodded. 

‘Thanks.’ I replied, smiling gratefully. 

‘Can I ask you a question?’ He broke the calm silence.

‘Sure.’ I nodded.

‘Why don’t you ever use your magic?’ He questioned curiously. 

He’s never asked about this. Simply didn’t need to.

‘I’m not reliant on my magic, especially not during fighting.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m no sorcerer supreme, but I’m fairly skilled, I just don’t…need it. I learnt to do most things in my life like a mortal. I don’t see much use in using my powers without great necessity. Besides, I’m not sure people would be overly fond of me if they found out I could control them with my voice.’ I explained. 

‘I understand. People would send me to the Raft if they knew half the things I could do.’ He empathised, sitting next to me.

‘Monsters for life?’ I put out my fist and he hesitated for a moment.

‘Monsters for life.’ Loki chuckled, bumping it. 

***

Dining Area.

18:24

‘Come on people, to the briefing room, we’ve got a mission.’ Stark instructed, seeming neither keen nor enthusiastic. 

I stood and went to follow Loki towards the briefing area but Stark put a hand on my chest. ‘Not this time, Dagger. I gotta talk to Rhodey more before you’re cleared for missions.’ I made an offended noise and then rolled my eyes.

‘Fine.’ I huffed, sitting back down and watching everyone else leave the area.

Guess I’ll just listen in, then.

***

19:54

‘Charlie. Open up, we’re about to leave.’ Loki knocked on my door and I opened, cackling with hysteria.

‘You’re….stuck..with….Barnes…and Rogers..’ I managed to take a breath and calm myself a little more, holding a grin.

‘Yes, har har, very funny. I’ll miss you too.’ He patted my back and left quickly, not eager to continue the conversation he knew I would gain too much amusement out of.

***

Living Area, Avengers Compound, Upstate New York, USA.

21st January, 2021.

10:19

I heard the rushing footsteps before I saw them.

I locked eyes with Barnes, who’s “wound” people were watching as Rogers applied pressure to his leg. 

‘Dagger, get me a first aid kit.’ Rogers commanded.

I took one look at the wound. ‘No.’

‘Excuse me?’ He turned, staring so hard he might’ve thrown me backwards with the sheer power of it.

‘I said no.’ I stood my ground. ‘It’s a fake wound. The flesh is too spread out for a gun wound, entry or exit of any calibre I’ve seen. The width is too large for the type of hunting knife that might’ve been close to that wound. A human couldn’t have made it. Therefore if it was an animal, it might’ve been a cat, but those claws would’ve been the size of a lion’s, by which you’d already be dead if such an animal had attacked you.’

‘Plus,’ I swiped a finger over the wound and sniffed, ‘there’s no metallic scent. Which means Barnes is lacking severely in copper and iron, an unlikely possibility, or that’s fake blood.’ I wiped the liquid on the stained pants and pursed my lips. ‘I’m smarter than you think.’

‘Annoyingly so.’ James sat up, perfectly fine, and the crowd dispersed with several chuckles and smart remarks I only heard half of.

I took a seat back on the couch and Rogers and Barnes left to clean up the special effects mess they’d made.

‘How was your week?’ Yelena asked, raising an eyebrow and sitting opposite me.

‘Boring, though probably not as boring as yours.’ I joked, earning a half-smile from her. ‘I got a letter.’ I held up the envelope. 

‘Who’s it from? Some long lost family member, hoping to reclaim custody of you?’ Sam half-heartedly joked.

He’s trying to keep it the way it was.

‘Nope.’ I popped the “p”. ‘It’s from a Dr. Raynor. Says she wants to talk to me about the Sergeant.’

‘Oh, Buck is gonna be pissed. He thought Raynor was joking about talking to you.’ Sam chuckled, and I grinned.

‘He talks about you?’ Nat raised her eyebrows as she sat, smirking. 

‘I suppose so.’ I remarked. ‘He’ll have to deal with it, though. The appointment is tomorrow, and he’s required to be there.’ 

‘You better behave, doll.’ He leaned over my ear, blowing steamy air through my hair.

There was that twisting feeling again. 

‘I’d say the same, but she seems to think you’re very well behaved.’ I turned. ‘We both know I hold the power here. You want to be done with mandated therapy, I can ensure you’re there for another three years. I suggest you play nice, Barnes.’ 

‘Save the sexual tension for therapy, you two.’ I turned to glare at Loki, who was smirking. 

‘I agree. We should save it.’ Barnes chuckled darkly. ‘See you tomorrow, doll.’ 

Fuck, that’s not fair.

Chapter Text

Dr Christina Raynor’s Office, Queens, New York, USA.

22nd January, 2021.

11:08

‘Dagger. Is that an alias?’ Raynor sat opposite me in the painted grey room, the only colour behind me in the form of a lime-green forest wallpaper. 

While she was dressed professionally, in pants, heels and a button up and was sitting upright in the wooden chair, I was slumping on the black, pleather couch, wearing tracksuit pants and a long sleeve, cotton shirt. 

‘Uh…no. It was, interestingly, the name I was born with. Except for a couple of changes when I was in my teens.’ I elucidated. 

‘Yes, James tells me you use they and them pronouns. Is that correct?’ She checked, looking up from her notebook.

I nodded. 

‘And how would you describe your relationship?’ This was an expected question.

‘The best word I can use is frenemies. I would say colleagues, but I don’t exactly work just yet.’ I answered. 

‘And how would you describe James?’ Raynor made eye contact with me.

‘On the outside? He’s a cold hearted, quiet man, who has suffered more than he cares to admit. On the inside, he’s an intelligent man, who deeply cares for those he loves, and wants to find a purpose for himself in life.’ This was my honest opinion.

‘And what would you do if you found out he was listening in?’ My eyes narrowed. ‘He’s not, but how would you react?’ She clarified.

‘I’d be frustrated.’ I admitted. ‘But then I would tell him that that is my honest opinion of him. That I was telling the truth.’ 

‘Thank you.’ She nodded.

***

I lazily ran my fingers along the cloth of the beanbag. 

The room around me was simple, painted a sage green. It had a double sided mirror to my left, and there were pretty much only beanbags around, aside from one bar-stool in the corner, for some reason.

I heard the click of the door and James entered, sighing and sitting down on a bean bag. 

He looked incredibly awkward, leaning forward on a bean bag with his hands clasped, looking exasperated and very ready to leave.

‘Dagger, please tell James what you told me your opinion of him was.’ Dr Raynor’s buzzed over the intercom.

I raised an eyebrow but listened. ‘I said something along the lines of; you’re a cold hearted and quiet man, who’s obviously scarred.’ I repeated.

‘Of course you did.’ He rolled his eyes. 

Ok, just for that you get the rest of my opinion.

‘And that on the inside you actually care deeply, are more intelligent than you’ll admit and you’re trying to find a purpose in life. Also you hide your emotions because you’re scared of being honest and getting hurt.’ I added, giving him the stink-eye.

‘Nice to see your true opinion of me has finally come out.’ He shook his head and stared at the double-sided mirror.

‘Barnes, your turn.’ Raynor instructed over the intercom. 

‘You’re annoying and immature, and you find pleasure in playing with people’s feelings. You manipulate people for your own entertainment, and you don’t care about the after-effects.’ Each word was pronounced with such a convincing tone that I was taken aback.

‘Oh.’ 

Fuck, that hurts. I held back the sobs in my throat. Is that what he thinks?

‘What do you mean “oh”? I thought you’d be more amused with my accurate analysis.’ He gestured towards me, but I couldn’t find the words to respond.

‘James. Tell them what you actually told me.’ Raynor requested.

‘What? I can’t pay them back for fucking around with Steve, Sam and I?’ 

‘Tell them the truth.’ Raynor insisted.

‘Fine.’ He gritted his teeth and sighed. ‘What I really said was that you manipulate people as cover. I think that you’re hiding your past because it hurts you, and you’re afraid people will judge if they know the real you. I also said, and I regret this greatly, that you’re the most intelligent person in most rooms, and you hide that because you don’t want to prove you’re more interesting than others.’ 

I gaped. 

How….how is that so accurate?

‘Yeah, well. Thanks doc, for making me tell them that.’ Bucky gave the mirror a glare.

‘You’re right.’ Now it was his turn to be surprised. ‘You’re right. I..I hide a lot, and yes, it’s because my past hurts to talk about or even remember. I’m certainly not always the most intelligent person in the room, but I do…humble myself, I guess. I don’t know why I do it.’ I admitted. 

His eyebrows were raised, he almost seemed…happy. More like.. glad, that I was being honest. That he’d gotten me to open up and be vulnerable. 

‘Alright, people.’ Raynor’s voice interrupted us. ‘Soulgazing exercise. Move closer together.’ 

I changed to a better seat and we both shuffled forward, knees touching. 

‘Closer.’ Raynor repeated, and he pulled my knee slightly between his legs. 

‘This is very close.’ I mumbled. ‘My eyes are up here, Sarge.’ I watched him pull his eyes upward, and our gazes met.