Chapter 1-

The storm outside seemed to be unsettling most of the people on the jet, a few of the guys were shifting their weight on their legs looking up at the sound of the winds hollowing. The rain pelting the roof of the S.H.I.E.L.D jet would be sent most into a mess of nerves, it calmed me though. I was expecting the storm for the past 4 days ago, it is why I advised moving the mission to this jet; when we engineered this jet, we spent hours making it storm proof.

This baby is indestructible, a category five hurricane would have to try its damn best to knock it off the sky.

Still, unless you were in the months-long process of engineering a jet like this, it is normal to be scared when entering in the middle of a furious storm.

Captain America seemed to be one of the ones handling his nerves best if you looked closely you could see his shoulders tensed up which was letting me know that the storm puts him on the edge. His eyes scanned all his crew on the jet landing on me, it took a second, then they moved to the name on the right side of my jacket.

Agent Carter.

His eyes soften briefly, moving up to my own, his own individual storm of emotions in them.

"Don't walk on to the ship with that on, you don't want them to get your name." He advised I nodded, knowing this but instead of belittling his advice, I offered a piece of knowledge of my own.

"Will do Captain. We are at the ends of the storm, the weather around the ship is forecasted to be normal." I informed him, he nodded in return, his eyes told he knew this information though.

"Yeah, well, this does not feel like a normal storm Agent," Rumlow said from behind me, I held in a groan at the sound of his voice. Rumlow is someone I've always found incredibly infuriating. "In fact, maybe we should have someone piloting the jet instead of having it in autopilot."

I raised my eyebrow, "Scared of a little rain?"

"No," Rumlow said sternly, taking a slight step forward. "I'm afraid of the jet falling into the ocean before we even reach our destination."

Everyone around us shuffled around uncomfortable by our bickering. From the side of my vision, I saw Natasha Romanoff, move her elbow to hit Captain America in his midsection, making him look at her.

Natasha was the only person who I felt comfortable with ranting about how much I wanted to punch Rumlow's smug face. Although I mostly rant to her about him because she would give me tips on how to punch him, which in turn helped me overall in situations on the field.

"I was a vital aspect of the process of engineering and building this jet. Our objective was to make it capable of taking any weather that crossed its path. This is my project Rumlow, my jet, and I promise you Thor himself would have to try his damn best to knock it off the sky." I broke eye contact with Rumlow to look over at the Captain raising an eyebrow. "And last time I checked the mighty God isn't joining us tonight."

Natasha smirked as I ended my sentence, a few snickers could be heard around. Rumlow rolled his eyes, looking away, but I didn't give him too long.

"Besides, we have a pilot on board," I informed him, looking to the right. In the corner sat, John Tellme, one of our finest pilot, his job is to bring the jet around to pick us up. "If he ever feels that he needs to take control of the jet, he will."

"Alright." Captain America's voice sounded around the jet, stopping Rumlow from answering back. My head snapped to Captain America who was giving me a warning look, although his lips were fighting a smirk. "I'm going to start the briefing."

The mission seemed like a standard rescue mission, my main objective would be to get to the hostages as fast as possible. Captain mentioned this was best suited to my abilities, that was his way of saying once I had surveyed the vessel in person I could teleport my way there.

"Use any extra force necessary if you need to get into the room where the hostages are in." Captain America told me, not breaking eye contact. I nodded.

After the Captain's briefing, we all start putting on our parachute's. I struggle a bit with securing my front buckle, my hands shaking a bit. I take a breath, staring at my hands. Please, don't do this now, I can't do this right now.

"When was the last time you took your medicine?" Nat's voice says, my head moves in the direction it comes from. She is looking down at me concerned. I bit my lip.

"I didn't take one today… I forgot it at home and I've been prepping the jet for this mission-"I start explaining, Nat steps closer to me.

"You know how you get without it Natalia-"She starts saying, but I interrupt her, slightly annoyed at having this conversation around the other agents.

"Yes, I do." I whisper angrily, "I go into withdrawal because I got hooked on the pills that help my body act like a normal human body, Nat."

"You are normal." She whispers, "They help your powers not overpower you… And yeah, maybe you do enjoy the small high they give you a bit too much."

I scoff, that's underestimated, some days I find myself counting the hours to when I get my next dosage, my next relief. I try focusing my breathing, but it doesn't stall my hands from shaking. Curling my fingers inward and digging my nails into my palms, I make a fist.

Come on, not now, please. My gaze stays on my hands until they stop shaking, but I know it's only momentary.

"You okay?" Nat ask looking down at my arms, my eyes snap to hers. Time is ticking until I go into a full withdrawal.

"Let's just do this quickly," I tell her, securing my gun.

Captain had jumped off the plane without a parachute, I guess one of the pros of being a super soldier is flight. The guys that were left on the jet looked at the spot he had jumped from in shock. Nat had a smirk on her lips, the type that would only show up when she was proud of her fellow agents.

Rumlow peaked over the edge of the runway, looking down. Let's hope he doesn't fall off, the paperwork would be a pain. His head turned and caught a glimpse of me.

"What about you Carter? Are you going to teleport yourself down there?" He mocked, a few of the agents on jet chuckled.

I debated explaining to him that it doesn't work like that, I need sense information of the area I'm teleporting to. Is it cold? Warm? Is it well lit? What are the scents that surround it? Is the ground rough? Is it sand? How does it look like? Is it inside or outside?

Rumlow seems to think that I can think of Paris and I'll find myself under the Elfie Tower. I need usually more than one sense detail, I know what the Eiffel Tower looks like, but how is the grass lawns that surround it? Are they well-groomed or are they overgrowing?

I'm sure Rumlow knows all of this, he has probably read my file, since he seems to have a fixation with me. The reason for his joke was to remind me that I am a freak of nature, unlike my cousin Sharon, who he dated unsuccessfully for a few months last summer.

I shrug, "Why would I do that? I'm enjoying my time up here with you too much."

Everyone chuckles at that.

We are already lining up on the runway, ready to drop down. Rumlow is hidden from my sight, but I hear him grunt as he pushes off. One by one we start to go down until it is my turn, I'm second to last. The wind whips my hair around fiercely as I look down at the drop-off. Below there are only dark clouds, beyond that, there is more darkness, in the middle of the darkness there is a tiny vessel.

From this height, it looks like a toy boat, that is my target. I feel a tap on my shoulder, it's Nat letting me know I'm stalling too much. I feel my mind go through all the possibilities that I'll hit the water instead, which from this height means death.

No! No, I was trained for this, I've done this before. I nod my head, then, before I can second guess myself, I push off.

The fall is always the worst part. I always bit my lip as I feel my body hurtle towards the boat, gravity is not a gentle force let me tell you. My hand grips the string that will open my parachute.

The only upside of gravity hurtling me down to the ground, is that it doesn't take long until I must pull the string, around 30 seconds and I'm violently dragged upwards. I groan leaves my body the intensity of the drag taking me by surprise.

Everything slows down once the parachute is open, I can see the spot on the boat that I will be landing on in 10 seconds. Captain America is already fighting one of the Pirates, throwing his shield to hit the pirate in the ribs, not noticing the one behind him holding a gun aimed at his head.

"No!" I yelp, right as the sound leaves my body, a gun is fired.

Rumlow's. He shoots the pirate before it shoots Cap.

My feet touch the ground. I need to concentrate.

My hands go to my parachute buckle taking it off, dropping the parachute. I need to pick up sense data. Around me, everyone is already fighting their way to the Captains side, I see a blur rushing towards me on my left. A pirate.

I dodge down, avoiding his swing. I heard his yell, as he legs moves upward, before it catches my midsection, I take a step backward, avoiding it.

I look at the pirate, he is blonde look young, younger than me. He steps forward. He is also not going to give up.

My left arm comes across my face blocking his punch, then I push his arm to the side, leaving him open. Right hook. It connects I feel his nose crack underneath my fist. He didn't see it coming, he looks at me stunned. I throw a left following my right, he stumbles backward.

I need to get him on the ground, he's stunned enough that if I drop him he won't bounce back.

My right leg, moves forward, swiftly going under his feet, knocking him down. His fall is violent, his head hits the floor. Again, gravity is not a kind force.

Looking down at him, I swallow down the feeling of guilt. I need to collect sense data.

The ground it is… cold, sturdy, slippery.

The wind is strong, blowing to the east.

It is nighttime, the outside of the boat is lit dimly. The area where Captain and everyone is well lit.

I have enough, I concentrate on Captain and Natasha's back. I feel a rush of air, in a blink, my body is thrown onto a body. My eyes register the red hair, oh no.

I bend down to dodge Natasha's elbow that she has thrown at me, her head moves with her arm, an instinctive move. Her eyes widen when she sees me crouched down, realizing I missed the hit by a split second.

I smile weakly at her, "I made it."

"You're getting to be quite quick kid." She replies, smirk playing on her lips. Warmness spreads across my cheek at her compliment. It's not like I had been spending hours training while everyone was off taking a break.

Captain's eyes moved over me, checking to see if I was alright. I nodded at him, "I'm okay sir, just took a bit of stumble on the landing."

"A stumble? It's not like we've trained you to prevent those." Rumlow interjected.

Captain looked at him slightly annoyed, but always the professional decided to ignore Rumlow's comment, "Agent Carter, you can partner up with Natasha."

That's unfair. Everyone else had a clear objective in the mission, an obvious reason why they were here. What is my objective? To be Natasha's sidekick. If they needed someone to provide them a jet, I didn't have to be brought here, I could have prepared it back at headquarters. If they needed me to be their plane engineer, I could have done that and stayed on the plane.

I was told to come down onto the ship, I am also an agent. But as always, I'm not as good as the rest of them, I'm reduced to the backup. My instinct is to object, but this is the not the time.

I nod looking to Natasha who without a second thought, nodded at Steve and started walking forward. Her stride being much quicker than mine, I jog a few steps to walk beside her.

"I need to secure the engine room," Nat whispers to me, she hops over a railing, skipping a whole flight of stairs. Why does she do this? Why can't she just jog down like a reasonable person?

My feet move quickly down the stairs catching up once more, Natasha was walking faster.

She's running away from me, "I take it you didn't want a partner on this mission?"

"No, I didn't." She sighs, finally looking over her shoulder at me. "Go to the control room, find a way in, lock the door after you and wait for me to come."

I paused halfway down a long hallway, looking at her back. She thinks I am not good enough to help her out, to keep up with her. Even after our joint training sessions, showing her my abilities, desperately trying to prove that I am more that Peggy Carter's adopted daughter. None of it is enough to convince anyone that I am capable, that there is no favoritism in my ranking, it is the opposite.

Natasha back blurs for a moment, my hand coming out to hold the wall to my right. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. I should have packed an extra pill in my mission bag, why didn't I?

Natasha doesn't notice and keeps walking, I gulp. I must follow Captain's orders.

"Nat that's not on any of the briefings we got, the control room is not a priority. We are here to rescue hostages, I can handle that-" I reason through a strained throat.

"I don't doubt that Agent Pyro." Nat deadpans finally turning around, her eyes meet mine sternly. "But my mission is to get to the control room and save any intel they have on S.H.I.E.L.D."

A secret mission, the rescue operation isn't the real mission.

"Are the hostages just a distraction then?" My voice comes off in a shriek.

Nat freezes, her eyes examining mine. I know what she is doing, she is telling herself to ignore all the questions she has, to just follow the orders she was given- after all, isn't that our job to follow orders?

"I'll knock 4 times on the door when I get there," Nat says, turning around, leaving me feeling conflicted. Do I follow Nat's orders or the Captains? My gut said neither to remember how the jet felt and teleport up there.

But I have nothing to do up there and something to do down here. They had given Natasha a different mission for a reason and now I was caught up in it. Something about this felt wrong.

I close my eyes and take a breath, willing the shaking of my hands to still, but without my medicine, it won't still completely. I open my eyes, turn around, and head to the control room.

Finding a way into the control room turned out to be surprisingly easy, the door had a number key in it, that if I unhooked the lid off and rebooted it, I could change the access code. This way I could go in and none of the pirates could somehow gain entrance.

Once inside it was all about waiting for Nat, this is not my mission and I had no place in this room. I felt like an intruder in ever since of the word, I had intruded on this mission and broken my way into this room. Both of which I did doing what I was told, I was in this situation all because of other people's choices, not my own.

But that's the way life had always been for me.

Tack.

My eyes move to the door. Is that a knock or just noise from within the room?

Tack.

My body moves towards the door, hand on my gun, moving it in front of me.

Tack.

The sound is coming from the door, doesn't sound like a knock, but maybe the door is too thick?

Tack.

Only one way to find out, I pull the door open. My eyes meet another gun pointed in my direction, in the hands of a certain redhead.

"How did you do it?" She asked, moving the gun down.

"Um, I rebooted the keypad to have a different access code," I explained withdrawing my weapon as well.

Nat's eyes showed admiration for a second before it left, back to business. She rushed into the door. "Shut the door."

And once again, I did as I was told.

Annoyed by the turn of events of this operation and how my involved has been, I slumped myself down on a chair behind Nat. She typed away, pulling a flash drive out of her boot, injecting it into the computer. Neither of us really paid attention to the noises coming from outside. The door was too thick for the noises to reach us fully and I think Nat was too concentrated on saving the intel.

Of course, as the ruckus got louder, my eyebrow rose in interest. Whoever it was giving one hell of a fight out there-

"Arrrgh!" The holler came from behind that door mixing with the impact of two bodies hitting the door. Two men came crashing into the room, taking the door down with them.

Well, I could have gotten in that way.

The shield on the back of the man's back register a moment too late, as Captain America's eyes meet mine. They immediately showed confusion.

Well, we are screwed.

I opened my mouth to explain but Natasha beat me to it, "Well, this is awkward."

Captain's moved over to her, then back to me.

…. I am so fired.

"We needed you to help Rumlow." Captain said at me, not hiding his anger. To be fair, I probably would have ignored the call to help Rumlow even if I wasn't busy doing the side work that I was caught up in.

"I am only here because I am following orders, you said to partner up with Nat." I glanced over at Nat who was typing away, "She said to gain access to the control room, so she can save intel. I am only following orders."

His eyes soften, understanding right away that this might have been a bad call of his from the start. He nodded at me, before getting up and moving to question Nat.

The rest of the operation and the ride back home was awkward, to say the least. Captain and Nat would go back to normal, they always do, but I understood that he felt betrayed. He still doesn't quite understand how this world works, how S.H.I.E.L.D works now.

To be honest, I found myself wondering the same thing every day I put on my S.H.I.E.L.D uniform.

S.H.I.E.L.D gave everyone that had been on the operation a day off to rest before returning to work. I've spent most of it in bed, watching One Tree Hill, a guilty pleasure that let my mind go numb. I thank Lucas Scott and his inability to stick to any decision in giving me an escape from my own inability to be productive today.

I had taken my medicine when I had woken up, but because I went a day without it, I had to take a pill from the bottle that holds a stronger dosage. Safe to say, I've been on this bad immobilized and feeling comfortably at ease. This is the pills effect they are supposed to stop my body from its spasm it gets, if I stress myself out, my body starts shaking, I've been told it is something about the atoms shaking preparing in they have to teleport me elsewhere. A fight of flight instinct.

S.H.I.E.L.D can't have an agent holding a gun or an engineering fixing a jet shaking, so they've found a solution. There is another solution, honing my power and practicing it, taking control of it. But I've spent so much of my life trying to fit in, I rather just use my powers when needed, otherwise, pretend they don't exist.

After Lucas had broken Brooke's heart, again, I decided to go to the kitchen to make myself some milk with cereal.

I look around the kitchen, the sink looks like a horror scene, plates almost reaching the cabinets on top of it. I should probably do those, but my body was still feeling a bit sluggish from the medicine. It's funny how I can, in theory, think of a place and be there in seconds and yet I stay in the same place. Is that Captain feels sometimes? The moment he asks S.H.I.E.L.D to help him retire, they would make it possible, only bothering him to save the world when some monster from another galaxy appears to destroy us.

And yet, he feels the same call for duty, the one he can't ignore.

Every time I start thinking about Captain it leads me to everyone from his past, the ones that started this all. Did they have any idea what it would all become? How many people would it impact? Would they agree with the way S.H.I.E.L.D operates now? Am I doing the right thing by following orders?

I could pick up my phone and make the call to the person with answers, but that person might not be able to answer all of them.

Sadly, Lucas Scott and his gang will not hold the answer.

A sigh escapes me as I run a hand through my hair, I know what I should do to stop the questions that are dancing around in my mind. I need to go to the place that where the start is in, dressed up and hiding my answers. This place also brings to the surface the question that I have that no one ever wants to listen to.

I grab my keys on the counter, shaking them out to untangle them a bit, grab a sweatshirt to slip over my tank and a baseball cap to hide under. Opening the GPS app on my phone in case I get lost, running there would wake me up, my fingers move quickly as I write:

Smithsonian Institution.

The chilly air inside the museum sent a shiver through me. Now drenched in sweat from my run the thin fabric of my tank top sticking to my back. I slowly untie the sweatshirt I had tied around my waist, slipping it over my head. The thick red material saving me from the air, warming me instantly. My feet carry me to Captain America's section.

The picture of the Howling Commandos was the width of the entire wall. Each of them standing tall with pride, men of courage.

Captain was in the center, the disciplined and loyal leader, the only one facing forward. His face nowadays was a bit more worn down, wrinkles prominent on the side of his eyes and mouth. But nonetheless, he didn't look close to hundred years of age, so I'd say he had aged well in his couple of years outside of cryo.

The focus of attention whenever I see this picture is never Captain; it's always the man on his right.

James Buchanan Barnes, or as Captain calls him Bucky. Bucky died falling off the side of a HYDRA train.

At least that is what most believe.

I believe Bucky is still alive. He is somewhere in a HYDRA center, leading a life much different from that of the picture in front of me.

I believe Bucky Barnes is the Winter Solider.

Bucky Barnes is the Winter Solider is a belief I keep to myself. A sentence like that uttered at S.H.I.E.L.D would get you fired and make everyone lose respect for you. Since I've spent years trying to earn the respect I'm given, I've kept my mouth shut. All the evidence I have put together on Bucky, I collected during when no one was watching and by going into databases that I don't have the clearance for.

So, this belief could potentially also get me arrested.

I had only brought this theory up to Natasha once. after I helped her repair the wing of her favorite jet, she kept coming back to me with help with her aircraft's and equipment. I became her go to and we started trusting each other, as much as an ex-Soviet spy can trust someone. But I knew that if there was anyone at S.H.I.E.L.D that had any idea who the Winter Solider was it was her.

After another sleepless night, trying to work up the courage the bring up the topic, I did.

I decided to do it over morning coffee, hoping that the fact that we had woken up just a few minutes before would mellow her. The theory raced past my lips after keeping it for years, it left me like a breath that I had been holding in for too long.

Natasha laughed it off and shook her head, getting up to get more sugar. There were a couple of things wrong with that, firstly, Natasha only took three packs of sugar with her coffee and her eyes said something different. They betrayed her, they showed fear at someone else discovering the truth, they showed they were hurting about truth that they had to hide.

She mentioned it to me a few days later when we were leaving S.H.I.E.L.D after a full day of work. I debated whether I should show her the file I had hidden in my apartment. A file full of all the information I could find on the Winter Solider. But something told me it wasn't the place or the time.

"It just makes sense." I whispered to her, she rolled her eyes.

"No, it makes zero sense, it's a conspiracy theory." Natasha rebutted, moving towards her car. "One that could get you killed."

She got in her car, slammed her door, and raced away.

She wasn't pleased finding out that I frequent Captain's exhibition in the museum. I think she can tell I don't come here for Cap like everyone else does.

I move away from the wall and walk over to the uniforms, not being able to stop myself from looking back at Bucky.

I hope I am wrong, I hope that Bucky Barnes died the way we've been told. I hope he could rest in peace and that the legacy he has left behind isn't a lie, that the truth is something much more wicked.

"Oh Bucky." I whisper, dread filling my body, feet carrying me to stand under him once more. "Please be dead."

"I knew I would find you here." A voice whispers behind me.

"Oh, my god!" I yelp, jumping a step away from whoever was behind me.

Natasha chuckles briefly, "Visiting your favorite dead man I see?"

It is my turn to roll my eyes. Nat's eyes move upward, avoiding Bucky and skimming through all the other figures. She's ignoring him, hiding her reaction. I bite my lip, looking up at them, deciding to change the topic briefly.

"They got Captain's jawline perfectly." I point out.

"It is hidden by the chin straps." Nat reasons, looking down at me. "You can call him Steve you know? He gets upset that you still don't feel comfortable enough to call him by his first name."

"I do!" I object, "I just respect him a lot."

Nat smiles at me, "I tell him that, but it is time for you to call him Steve."

Nat drops the subject, her eyes becoming serious. I look down at my feet like a little kid caught causing mischief, which I kind of am. If I am wrong, I am disturbing the memory of a dead man.

But I am right, which means I am changing the way we all think the world is.

"Natalia, the Winter Solider is a ghost story, most agencies don't even believe in him. How you went from that to him being Bucky amazes me. Why are you so sure that Bucky is alive?" Nat ask, stepping as close to me as possible. I hesitate, I could show her the file, but I still don't feel comfortable doing that. But I can tell her my original reason why I started my investigation.

"They have the same eyes." I whisper.

"Are you kidding me? You are willing to ruin the history of a brave solider- You are going to destroy Steve, just because of they have the same eye color?" Nat rants, her eyes showing rage.

"No." I stop her, she shuts her mouth right away at my tone. "They have the same eyes, not the same color, they are the same because they belong to the same person."

Nat looks down at me, her eyes watering slightly. She tries to speak, but no words come out.

"You don't have to tell me I'm wrong again Nat. I know I'm right." I declare, "I've seen too much to be told otherwise. I know it's true."

Nat moves forward to place her hand over my mouth, trying to silence me before everyone in the room hears. Everything I had stored in me, all the investigation, the own secrets about who I am, I couldn't hold in much longer. I slap her hand away, my head shaking violently.

"No Natasha!" I shout, heads move over to look at us. I blink away tears, memories of my training, my childhood all rushing back to me at once. "Do you want to know why I care so much? Maybe because Bucky and Steve are not that different from me."

Her eyes search my face trying to understand. Before she can reply, I turn around and walk away, leaving her standing underneath Bucky.

A/N: Hi everyone! I know that in MCU Peggy is said to have children and a husband, but for now, I think I will be keeping them out of this story and having Natalia be her only child. I would really love some feedback, just to see if you are all enjoying this story. If you guys really enjoy it I might set up a tumblr in future for this fic, depending on how it is received.

Thank you for reading

P.S- Please be kind in the reviews this is my return to any sort of writing after a 4 year hiatus, I might be a little rusty.