A/N: Thank you for the follow and favorites and alerts while I've been away. It's happening soon, Winter (Soldier) is coming! My absolute favorite Marvel movie. So you know it's about to go down! Anyway, if anyone is still with me, enjoy.
Part Three
Chapter 1: The Angel
I stared out the frosty window of the Worthington Chalet in the mountains of Colorado. The past few months had been a complete blur. After the Convergence and Dark Elf mess in Greenwich, the Asgardians' took the Aether, telling SHIELD they were going to put it somewhere that no one would ever be able to find it again. But I mean, look how well that turned out last time. Also, Thor had decided to stay on Earth with Jane. I was very happy for them. I thought they were really good for each other. And being on Earth for a while would be good for the Asgardian too. Maybe he'd lighten up a bit.
I absentmindedly touched my X necklace as I look a long sip from the glass of expensive champagne in my hand. It was winter break at the Institute and I had decided to go on a much needed vacation. I was staying at the Vail Ski resort (curtsey of Stark Industries) when I ran into a familiar face while sitting at the bar in resort's main lodge. Warren Worthington lll had been teaching a semester of Economics at the Institute when I went to London and dropped in on Asgard. From what I had overheard from the students, he was more of a fun type of teacher than a serious one. But, an Econ teacher was needed and Warren had plenty of knowledge in that department. He was the chairman and principal stockholder of Worthington Industries. Now, with the semester over however, Warren claimed he was an Adventurer – whatever that meant.
I didn't hesitate when he suggested I stay at his family's chalet to catch up. I had a good time with him. We went skiing and he taught me how to snowboard, there were snowpeople aplenty on the wraparound deck outside, and I took full advantage of the Worthington's heated indoor pool in the enormous basement. Warren, never one to shy away from his beautiful mutation, would forgo the special harness Charles had made for Angel's wings when we'd venture out into town. He didn't mind the stares. It was no secret that the heir to the Worthington Empire was "a Mutie freak".
That night, we decided to stay in and enjoy each other's company, basking in the warm fire in front of the large marble fireplace. Warren was sprawled out on the soft black Moroccan run in front of the hearth. In the reflection of the window, I could see his wings spread to their full span. The bottle of champagne was in one hand as his upper body and head swayed side to side to the beat of a song in his head. His pure white feathers ruffled against the polished wooden floor. They were gorgeous.
"I was always jealous of you," I mused out loud, still looking out into the darkness. Warren's head arched back to look at me. I cleared my throat before taking another sip of bubbly, trying not to think about how tantalizing his long neck was in the reflecting glass.
"My dear Macie, why would you be jealous of me," Warren slurred the C and S.
"Your mutation can't hurt people," I shrugged casually. Warren rolled his eyes playfully. His body returned to stillness as he set the champagne bottle down.
"Is that all you ever talk about? Mutations this. Mutations that."
The champagne flute left my lips. I frowned, turning to face Warren whose blue eyes were closed in contentment. I scoffed, "No. I happen to be a doctor whose hobby is genetics, Warren. What would you rather me talk about? The Avengers?"
Warren groaned, dramatically throwing his arms over his face, "Absolutely not! Those humans think they can do our job?"
"Our job," I mocked questioningly. I walked over to Warren and jabbed his side with my black UGG boot-clad foot. "I happen to be one of them – and I'm a Mutant. You aren't even an X-Man anymore."
"Once a member of the X-Men, always a member of the X-Men!"
I sighed deeply and sat down by Warren's feet. I brought the glass to my lips and downed the remaining alcohol; the bubbles went to my head in a rush. I felt a gentle caress on my bare forearms as Warren sat up; the feathers on his folded wings were brushing up against my side. We stared at the fire in silence. The Angel sitting next to me was so different than the one I once knew. The Angel I grew up with had been a few years older than me – he'd been full of hatred and anger. He hated being a mutant because his father hated mutants. He even tried to cut his wings off once. Before I had gone off to college, it was rumored that he'd been seeking out an expert in genetics to see if the X-gene could be reversed and stamped out. He disappeared after that and no one had heard from him again. Charles had been too heartbroken to search for him with Cerebro. This Warren – Angel – was full of confidence and self-love. He has a brilliant mind and became an advocate for Mutant Rights. He was seen as a playboy in the media, but he had only ever had one love in his life. He was like Tony in that respects.
"Hey, Macie," Warren bumped my shoulder with his. When I looked at him, I found him looking at me with glassy blue eyes. "I care about you."
"Warren…you know I care about you too. You've been my friend for a long time now."
"No, I – what I'm trying to tell you…" Warren got to his knees, pulling my hands into his. Warren's hands were soft and uncalloused. Vastly different from the man I once knew. "…is that I'm so glad I ran into you a few days ago. And, Macie, I really, really care about you."
"Warren, I – what are you trying to say?"
"I think you know."
"No, I don't think I know anything," I gently slipped my hands out of his warm grasp. I turned back to the fire. The almost empty bottle of champagne was sitting in front of us. I reached for it and took a long swig. Despite the heat of the sweltering fire, my body felt cold.
"And what if I told you I might even want to get closer to you?"
"You wouldn't want to be that close to me," I responded darkly. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about."
"I do!"
"No. You're drunk, Warren."
A frown marred Warren's beautiful face, "Drunk or not, I'm trying to spill my guts here. I care, Macie. I really do."
"Please don't. Don't care about me in that way, Warren. I'm – broken. Weak. I – I'm still hung up on a man I can never – And, god knows I hide it, but I have so much hate inside of me, Warren. It scares me. You don't deserve to love someone like me."
"Don't do that," Warren shook his head, trying to take my hand again. I stood up and walked back towards the window. The falling snow was painting the black night. "Don't push me away. That man, he had to have been hung up on you too, because you're one of the most amazing women I've ever met. Macie, I'm not asking for you to love me. I'm just asking for a chance. Maybe I don't deserve you. But you sure as hell deserve someone like me. Let me treat you right."
"Bucky," I whispered softly, ignoring Warren's drunken confession. It was the first time in a long time that I'd said his name. It felt almost foreign to me. I wiped away a stray tear as I continued, "He was the first man to ever treat me right, to see me, not my mutation. Not Poison. And, I think, he was the first man who ever loved me. But we didn't get enough time. Maybe we could've in another lifetime. But he's always on my mind, even when I push the thought of him away. It's not fair. I can't move on. Don't you see? He won't let me move on."
"He won't, or you won't?"
"What?"
"He won't let you move on? Or you won't let yourself move on," Warren's brow twitched. I stared at him for what seemed like ages. And maybe it was the alcohol, but I saw his fluffy blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, and I saw another person entirely. He reminded me of another person entirely.
I sighed deeply, shaking the image of Steve Rogers from my mind "Both at the same time, I guess?"
There was a pregnant pause before Warren and I burst into giggles. "I'm sorry I just laid that all out on the table," Warren grimaced, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment and alcohol.
"It's okay. It's nice to know someone cares, you know?"
"Yeah," his grimace turned into a sad smile. "And I always will. If you ever decide that you've moved on, I'll be waiting."
"You really – I – I mean…" a long breath escaped my lips. I took Warren's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I don't know how long that's going to be. And to keep you waiting would be unfair, not only to you, but to some lucky, lucky girl you'll meet in the future."
"Thanks, Macie," Warren lifted my hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of my knuckles. Then, with that charming, mega-watt Worthington grin, "I still care about you though."
"Oh my god, Warren!"
I laughed as I tried to pull my hand out of his. Warren was leaving slobbery kisses all over my hand now. As this was happening, both of our phones went off alarmingly at the same time. The laughing ceased and a more serious mood took hold once more. Warren moved first, nearly stumbling over an ancient looking ottoman to reach his cellphone on a writing desk in the far left corner of the living room. I fished my cell out of my deep coat pocket. It was an unknown number. I cleared my throat before I answered to try and sound a little more sober.
"Hello?"
"Macie, it's Rogue. I hate to skip the pleasantries, hun, but there's a high-level mutant loose in Moscow. Charles is calling all-hands-on-deck for this one."
I looked over to Warren who had just stretched his wings to their full length. "Do we know who it is," I asked breathlessly as I watched his back muscles tighten.
"Omega Red."
