A/N: Thanks again to everyone commenting and leaving reviews you are all the loves of my life (in a totally not weird way like I probably wouldn't take a bullet for you but I'd definitely make you a super cool friendship bracelet).


Chapter #22:

Steve Roger's Fanclub


"Your burdens may be heavy, but my love is strong." –Jessica Katoff


"Oh wow, oh wow." Beth gushed as she glanced around the penthouse. It reminded me of when I brought Peter up here for the first time. Both had stars in their eyes and their jaws dropped wide open.

The trip to Paris had been as eventful and exciting as I imagined. Traveling overseas legally was a blast and Disney, pardon the cliché, was absolutely magical. I had somehow managed to nearly break my ankle in Discovery Land so Steve had to piggyback me around the park until I could hold weight, but other than that it had been one of the most perfect days of my entire life which, granted, wasn't a very long list but still. Vacations don't last forever though, and the new year needed to begin.

"Are—Are the Avengers here?" Beth turned to ask me. The girl's hair was pulled up in a messy bun and she wore a cream sweater tucked into her dark jeans and knee length boots. Since I was the boss, or whatever, I told her that there was no required uniform anytime she came here. If we were out dealing with other people we'd have to dress up but I was saving the dress clothes for that and that alone.

"Nah, not right now." I motioned for her to follow me to the dining room table. The Avengers had left a couple hours ago on a mission. It was another HYDRA base busting mission. Here's to hoping 2015 was different from 2014 and their mission wouldn't be interrupted by my ass getting kidnapped. Fingers crossed. "They'll probably be back tomorrow morning."

Beth's eyes widened, "Wow, so you're in this Tower all alone until then?"

"Not completely alone." I shrugged. "I always have JARVIS. Right, J?"

"Always, Ms. Bradshaw."

Beth stared up at the ceiling in amazement and I chuckled to myself. To this day, I still sometimes glanced up when I spoke to JARVIS just out of habit. Tony made fun of me every time I did. Being completely alone in the Tower was a little daunting, but I was more worried about them. I knew the Avengers were badass superheroes, but I don't think I'd ever not worry when they left on a mission. I'd probably stay up all night waiting for them.

"So, how was your new years?" I asked.

"It was so much fun." Beth smiled. "I hung out with some friends like I do every year."

"Not your family?"

Beth shook her head, "They live all the way out in Washington. The state. I usually only see them a couple of times a year. Anyways, let's get started!"

The way she rushed through the answer told me family might be a sore topic, so I made the mental note to steer away from it. Beth sat down beside me and readied her workspace by pulling out her computer along with a thick notebook.

"Before we jump into public relations, I do have to go over some ground rules courtesy of the Avengers." I folded my hands together in front of me. Beth nodded intently and grabbed a pen to write with as I spoke. "You've already signed all the confidentiality papers, but I need to remind you how important that is for this group. When we start going to meetings and interviews you may be approached with questions. If any of them ask you about anything Avenger related, I need you to shut it down and then just direct them to me. Don't answer anything. It's not that I don't trust you, Beth, it's more… The Avengers are peculiar about their information being out there."

More than being picky about it, they were downright worried. Leaving a social presence was a safety risk. There was always that nagging worry that a villain would be able to find some trail or clue to hurt them, but the Avengers also couldn't afford to not do this. Despite being superheroes and some of the greatest people I've ever met, there was a chunk of the public who was still wary of them. It was like they could do nothing right in their eyes. Captain America saves a family of four from a burning building, but all they focus on is the damage Steve left going from one building to the next to save them.

As dumb as I felt the public was, we needed them to support the Avengers. If the outcry grew too large. They'd have to worry about politicians jumping on the crazy train. Just yesterday they had sat me down to catch me up on the importance of all this. There was talk, all over the world, of trying to put the Avengers, and other heroes, on a leash. The goal was to avoid that kind of talk at all costs.

"I completely understand, and I don't take it personally." Beth reassured me. "One of my classes was actually all about this kind of stuff. I get that the privacy of my clients come first and I would never overstep those bounds. Is there anything else I should know?"

I nodded, "Yeah, if anyone tries to refer to the Avengers as SHIELD or as a branch of SHIELD, correct them on it. The Avengers are a separate entity from SHIELD and though we do work and cooperate with them on missions, they do not make decisions for the Avengers."

It was another thing the group had insisted on. When SHIELD was disbanded earlier this year, due to being infested with HYDRA assholes, the plan had been to end it entirely. Steve, Natasha, and the others had planned on burying SHIELD in a shallow grave alongside the remnants of HYDRA. The Avengers as an official group had been born in that moment. They had always worked as a team, but at that point they were officially a…well, a conglomerate for a lack of a better word? Of course, after a few weeks they realized a lot of HYDRA was still running around and something needed to be done about that. The new SHIELD was born, a smaller version of what it once was, and they now were separate from the superheroes I called a family. With this whole 'social identity' thing, they didn't want the public associating them with SHIELD anymore because of the stigma the secret organization still held on account of being infested with evil, bastard nazis. It was understandable to want some distance from that.

Beth grinned, "Got it. Next?"

"That was kind of it?" I shrugged. "If something else comes up I'll let you know, but those were the two big things they wanted me to go over with you."

"Ok, well, do you want me to show you the work I did over the holidays?"

"Hit me with it." I grinned.

"Twitter is an easy one to set up for them and it will give them easy access to communicate with fans and the public. I think our focus at the moment should be building them Instagram accounts where they can show more of themselves to the world. As much as they want to show though, of course." Beth flipped open her notebook and I recognized the list of fun facts I sent to her weeks ago. It had been printed out and taped to the paper with notes all around it. "Tony Stark is the easiest. He's had PR specialists working with him for years and he probably knows the rules of being in the public eye."

I chuckled, "Yeah I'm sure he knows them, but whether or not he'll follow them is another thing altogether."

Beth giggled but continued, "With Ms. Romanof, you mentioned that she had an interest in fashion?" I nodded. "Ok, so I was thinking, her posts could be centered around that! She could put up pictures of you guys in outfits that she coordinated or pictures of herself in outfits. There's a number of people who would love seeing her style or even try copying some of her looks."

"That's a pretty good idea." I mumbled in thought. Natasha had voiced that her interest in Instagram was relatively low, but this might change her mind. She had thought she'd have to share specific parts of her life, but with this all she had to do was share her clothing choices and I knew she loved doing that. Especially if the rest of us ended up being her models of choice.

Beth beamed at me, "Great! With Mr. Barton, I thought he could do a special bit where every week, or whenever, he made posts about some obscure food place he's found. It'd be fun for people to follow and it'd be good advertisement to all the tiny places he likes to frequent."

The young girl had a good idea for every Avenger. For Steve, she thought it could center around his art. For Bruce, it could be focused on his work. We both agreed that regardless of what we thought up for Tony he'd end up posting whatever the hell he wanted. The next half hour was spent talking more about the logistics of each. It was January 3rd today, a Saturday, and my plan had been to get all this going by the coming Wednesday. However, my brilliant new employee suggested a slower release. So we could ride the excitement of the public as long as possible. Their first big interview was scheduled for Friday and it would be perfect if we had them officially online before then.

I felt the burner phone in my pocket. Ironically, it was burning a hole in my jacket. Beth was preoccupied with typing something on her computer so I discreetly pulled the phone out of my pocket, holding it under the table, while I glanced at the screen. The last text I had sent Bucky was this morning and it had been an answer to a random question from him late last night. He still hadn't sent me another text though. I typed another.

'What're you up to today?'

We were set for our daily talk in a couple of hours so maybe it was dumb of me to try and reach out to him right now. He was probably busy.

"Now with you—"

My eyes snapped up and I shoved the phone back into my pocket to stare at Beth, "Huh?"

"Oh, I was going to go over my idea for your account."

I shook my head, "Is it normal for the public relations person to also have a special Instagram?"

"No, but you're not exactly a normal public relations specialist." Beth chuckled.

"Is it because I'm not actually a specialist?"

"It's because you're famous, Aj." Beth replied with a smile that I just stared at in shock. I shook my head once, ready to argue, but she didn't give me the chance, "Haven't you noticed people tend to stare at you when you got out these days?"

I shrugged, "Yeah, but that's usually because I have an Avenger babysitting me."

"They're looking at you." Beth shook her head. "You're the mysterious woman that lives with the Avengers! The tabloids have tried to figure out more about you since the beginning. They said you were dating Tony, then they said that Hawkeye was your sugar daddy—"

I let out a laugh, that had been the funniest tabloid of all, "Broke ass, human disaster Clint would be the worst sugar daddy of them all. He's got Stark cash backing him, but he's never gonna shake that broke mindset."

"Most recently, the pictures of you and Steve in Paris have them claiming you to be Captain America's girlfriend."

"I almost broke my ankle. He was helping me get around Disneyland." I argued. "It's still insane that they got their hands on those pictures so fast though."

Beth chuckled and held her hands out to me, "My point is, you're more famous than you think you are, and I want to take advantage of that. You're the lynch pin of my entire plan!" She flipped open to a different page of her notebook. "With your account, we can show a peek into their day to day lives. Captain America setting the dinner table, Iron Man tinkering in his lab, the Black Widow watching Netflix."

"Ok, yeah, I get that, but why does it have to be my account?" I questioned. "Can't we just make it a general Avengers account that we post pictures of them on?"

Beth nodded, "We could, but I think if we make it feel like it's from your point of view then the public gets to walk a day in your shoes. The world wants to be you, Aj. They want to see what you see and feel like they're part of the day to day in the way you are."

It made sense, I guess. Enough so that I couldn't find an argument against it. I shrugged and gave Beth a small smirk, "Well, you are the expert. I hired you for this so it'd be dumb of me to ignore your advice."

"This is going to be great, I promise." Beth reassured me. "Fans are going to flock to your account. One picture of sweaty Captain America winding down from his morning jog while drinking coffee—"

"He actually drinks that nasty ass green smoothie shit."

"That! One picture of that, with a caption in your voice, and the internet will break." Beth said firmly. "His fanclub would have a collective heart attack."

I nodded and motioned to her curiously, "So is that a real thing then? They have fanclubs?"

Beth nodded quickly, "Oh my God, yes. And some of them are…are a little intense, for lack of a better word."

"I bet they hate me now that the world thinks I'm sort of dating him." I chuckled to myself.

Beth shrugged, "It's torn. Some don't like you because they like the idea of Steve being single, the dream of stumbling into him and falling in love, and others just don't like it because they have this weird opinion on who he should date, but for the most part people like it! The fans want Steve to be happy after all and if you make him happy—"

With an amused smirk, I held up one hand, "First, I am not dating Steve. We're just really good friends. Second", I couldn't help but chuckle, "You seem to know a lot about this Captain America fanclub."

Beth's face went bright red and she stammered out a quick excuse of having to know everything about her clients. I nodded along and chose not to tease her any further. I'd ease her into my weird ass personality. We went back to working side by side fleshing out Beth's ideas. I was more and more convinced that I picked the perfect person for this job. Beth was smart and clever, and more than that she seemed to actually care about how the Avengers looked to the public. That's what I needed in an employee. Someone who cared about protecting them.

"Ms. Bradshaw, you have a video call waiting for you." JARVIS spoke up.

"Bring it up, J." I replied and leaned back in my seat so I could casually look at the holographic screen that projected off to my side. A second later the call connected, and Tony's face filled the screen. "Tony? I thought you went dark for the mission?"

"We did, but I needed to talk to you really quick." Tony said and my eyes widened in worry. He continued, "That argument we had yesterday? I was right. That guy's jacket was not orange. I asked Nat and she agreed with me."

Nat's voice came from somewhere in the back, "I said you were both wrong."

I blinked in shock, "This is why you're calling me? You jackass!" Beth jumped slightly in her seat. "I was worried something had happened!"

"I told you to stop worrying. We'll be fine. Plus, we aren't even at the base yet so—"

"As soon as you get back, I'm murdering you." I replied. Beth lifted her notebook, she was out of view of the screen, and tapped on a spot where we had taken notes. I nodded and looked back to Tony, "Oh, right, we need to make y'all account handles. Any ideas or do we have free reign?"

Tony shook his head, "I already have one. Check my Twitter."

"I don't have a Twitter—"

"J, pull up my Twitter!" Tony called out.

A second later another screen popped up to show his Twitter page and I glanced around until I found his account's username. I rolled my eyes and bit back a sigh, "At 'youknowwhoiam'? Really?"

"You know who I am." Tony shrugged with a smirk. His eyes darted to the side, "Oh, I gotta go. Steve's giving me the eyebrows of disappointment. I'll text you the other handles."

I said a quick goodbye, but the screen went dark mid-word. Beth was already jotting down Tony's username and making a note that his Twitter was already formed. My real phone buzzed against the table and I opened the text. There was a picture of Steve glaring at the camera, more aptly put glaring at Tony, and then under it was an actual text.

"Bruce has a Twitter too apparently." I read. "Steve said we should just pick his, Nat wants to be…'tripleimposter'? Ok. And Clint wants his to be 'Hawkeyenotguy'." Beth raised an eyebrow at me while I chuckled. I motioned to the phone, "We went to Starbucks once and the barista kept calling him 'Hawk-guy' instead of 'Hawk-eye'. Then I got everyone in the Tower to also call him that for a few days. He was bitter about it."

Beth chuckled, "Well, I can work with those. Will the handle at 'captainamerica' work?"

"Make it at 'captainsteverogers'." I replied. My mind always separated Steve from the Captain America mantle, and this whole social media thing was supposed to show a side of who the Avengers really were right? Beth nodded and began to work away on her computer again. I glanced down to my lap and pulled out the burner phone again. Still no response. It would be pathetic to send another text, right? He was obviously busy with a life of his own. I shoved the phone back into my pocket and tried to focus back on the task at hand. Something felt off, I had a weird feeling in my gut, but it was probably nothing. The Avengers were out on mission and my nerves were just seeping into every thought I had. Everything was fine.


Daisy sighed and ran a hand through her short hair. She was actually still trying to get sued to the new length of her hair. Chopping more than half of it off seemed fitting under the 'new year, new her' kind of mentality. Still, it'd probably be another day and a half before she got used to how light it made her head feel.

Her eyes landed on the bottle of fish pills sitting on the table in front of her. The inhuman problem seemed to be solved when the quinjet of crystals was dumped into the ocean, but it was actually only the start. The crystals had leaked the terrigenesis chemical into the surrounding sea life which was then promptly caught and turned into fish pills. Daisy always hated taking fish pills in the past, but she only hated it because of the size. Now people had to worry about going into a metamorphosis that would transform them into something they didn't understand.

"No, no, no." Fitz groaned, "I told you it's not ready yet!"

"Well, mate, my mission is in five minutes." Hunter argued back, "So I'm thinking it is."

The two were arguing about something or another. Hunter was supposed to be heading out soon with Coulson. Bobbi wanted to go with them, but she was still off active duty until her knee was back at 100%. With Bobbi out and May retired, it left them feeling short staffed. Daisy missed May, but she understood the reason why the woman backed away from the action. Last she heard, May was vacationing somewhere with her ex-husband who was now her sort of boyfriend. Good for her.

Daisy grabbed the scrap of paper she had and began to write a quick note on it. She had never had the choice to become inhuman. Daisy didn't regret it and she loved knowing who she was. Becoming inhuman, finding her potential, was one of the greatest things to happen to her. Still, looking back it would be nice to have had a say in it. Maybe the adjustment would've been better. It wouldn't have been so jarring. That's all anyone deserved. A choice.

"Daisy—" Simmons stuck her head into the lab and suddenly noticed that Fitz and Hunter were still going back and forth. "Is this about the new icer? Fitz, just give it to him. Worst case scenario he gets frostbite."

"Yeah, see—wait, frostbite?" Hunter's head snapped to her.

Simmons ignored the dismay and turned back to her, "Mac is looking for you. There's been another." The two guys grew quiet and Daisy let out a small sigh. She grabbed the bottle and the note and crossed the room. Simmons gave her a curious look when she held it out to her. "What is this?"

"Do me a favor?" Daisy asked and her friend agreed without hesitation. "Can you get this to Avengers Tower?"

Simmons took the bottle and note with a nod, "Aj?"

"Yeah. Should've sent it a week ago." Daisy chuckled. She thanked Simmons, said quick goodbyes, then hurried out of the room to where she knew she would find Mac. Daisy didn't have to look far though. She was only steps down the hall when Mac stepped out of a doorway and met her quickly, "Tremors!" The tall man turned her around and now they were moving to the hangar instead, "Simmons tell you?"

"Yeah, she did. Another inhuman popped up?"

"Small town in New Hampshire." Mac nodded. "There's been reports of damage in the town, but no injuries or casualties so far. It looks like the inhuman has some sort of fire ability."

Daisy nodded and they jogged onto the quinjet. Mac got it up into the air while Daisy checked that their containment pod was still attached and in working order. The entire inside of the pod was created with a power dampener. It essentially turned off the abilities of whatever inhuman was inside of it. Very useful when dealing with someone who doesn't understand what's happening with their body.

"Do we have eyes on them?" Daisy asked but brought up the video feed herself before Mac could even answer. The only security feed they had on the new inhuman was of a young girl stumbling down what looked like the main street of a small town. Metal around her was melting as she walked. "We need to get there fast."

"I was right in the middle of cataloguing the new 0-8-4s we found last week." Mac shook his head in annoyance.

Daisy couldn't help but chuckle. Mac was one of the biggest helps she had in the journey to help get all these new inhumans settled. Coulson had put her in charge of the inhumans because he knew she had their best intentions in mind. It was the smart move and Daisy was glad he had trusted her with it. He also had put Mac in charge of all alien and unknown artifacts. Another smart move since Mac was the most skeptical of these items of all of them. He was extra cautious with everything he worked with.

"I was in the middle of listening to Hunter and Fitz argue."

"So, the call was lucky on your end then." Mac replied with a shake of his head. Daisy moved to change from her day clothes into her field uniform. While she pulled on her gloves, Mac spoke up again, "You hear from that Lincoln kid yet?"

Daisy shook her head, "No. He hasn't answered me."

Lincoln had left after everything because he needed time away from the inhuman community. After everything that happened, she couldn't fault him for it. That didn't stop her from worrying though. SHIELD had noticed that some inhumans were disappearing off the face of the Earth with no explanation. It was getting to the point where they couldn't keep up. It was really beginning to worry Daisy.

"I'm sure he's fine. He said he just wanted space." Mac tried to reassure her. The words were appreciated, but they didn't quite hit home for her. Daisy nodded in thanks regardless. Lincoln could take care of himself. She had faith in that. She had faith in him. "You talk to Avengers girl, yet?"

Daisy chuckled, "Aj. Her name is Aj."

Mac nodded, "Right." He had heard plenty about her, but Daisy knew he hadn't officially met her yet. The day he was in the Tower, things had been a little too busy for the normal meet and greet. "Have you talked to her yet?"

"Sort of?" Daisy replied. "I've been meaning too. Simmons is gonna drop off a bottle of the fish pills we confiscated."

Mac's eyes widened, "Really? Think she'll take them? We could seriously use a few more hands around here."

"I don't know. I just wanted to give her the choice." Daisy said. Mac gave her a small smile and a nod of respect. Daisy knew that if Aj took the pills, chose to be inhuman, then that wouldn't necessarily mean that she'd help them. Daisy hoped. Just like Mac said, they were shorthanded and could really use the help. She felt like she had gotten to know Aj fairly well via phone since they met. Based off what little Daisy knew, she had a strong feeling the young woman would help them if she had the capability to. Regardless, Daisy felt good knowing she had given Aj a choice in the matter.


I had gone downstairs to get Beth and I some coffee. Seeing the stand was still difficult, but it helped to see Sal behind the counter again. He was moving around the stand, helping with orders, and he was a little slower than before but still just as happy. Rather than getting in line, I walked to the side so I could talk to him while he worked.

"Hey, Sal."

"Aj!" He chirped with a wide grin, "How are you this morning?"

"No complaints. How do you feel? Are you—"

Sal made a 'tsk'ing noise with his mouth, "If you ask me if I'm okay one more time, I'm going to start making your drinks badly on purpose."

I chuckled and shoved my hands into my pockets, "I just like making sure, Sal. We all know you don't know the definition of taking it easy."

"You sound just like Jonny." Sal scoffed and passed off a drink to one of his employees.

"From what I'm gathering, your husband is the only one with common sense in this relationship." I hit back with a smirk. Sal rolled his eyes at me before asking what I wanted. I told him Beth's order on top of my usual and stepped away to wait. He always tried to get my drink out first, but I insisted that I didn't mind waiting since he was so busy today. As I stood off to the side, I let my eyes crawl over the lobby nervously. It didn't feel like anyone was watching me, and I didn't see any sketchy figures sitting around waiting to jump up with a gun. Still, I couldn't put my guard down.

The phone in my pocket suddenly began to vibrate and it made me nearly jump out of my skin. I yanked the burner phone out curiously. It was only 9:35 in the morning. That was like two hours too early for our usual phone date. Maybe he saw my text and decided to call early.

"Sal, I gotta take a call. Cancel my order for now!" I called out.

Sal poked his head over the half wall, "Everything ok?"

I sent him a quick reassurance before jogging out of the Tower. I got to the edge of the plaza and quickly answered the phone before it stopped ringing, a chuckle left my lips, "Hey! Sorry it took me a second to answer, you caught me off guard. I had to run outta the Tower." There was only silence on his end of the line. I pressed the phone closer to my ear and used my free hand to block the excess noise from my other ear. "Hey? Are you there? Is everything ok—"

A string of Russian came over the line to me. I nearly panicked at the sound, but I recognized the voice. The voice belonged to Bucky. I could tell. It was wrong though. Bucky's voice was charming and confident. It tended to sound a bit husky over the phone, but not like this. This low voice was closer to being guttural and it was flat. There wasn't an ounce of emotion in it. He spoke again, more Russian, but it ended in a quick blurb of English, "What is my name?"

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes." I said quickly. Who knew how much time I had before he hung up the phone entirely. Bucky had told me about how he'd have lapses in his memory. Days or moments where he felt like the Soldier was in control. I hadn't seen it firsthand like this though. The Soldier had never called me. My brain scrambled to find the facts that I think would help him best, "Your friends call you Bucky. Your mom's name was Winnifred and you had a sister named Rebecca. The two of you were really close. Your best friend's name is Steve and he misses you. You and Steve were brothers in everything except blood. He's the most important person in your life, your only connection to your past. You served in the 107th infantry and you told me that growing up you hadn't really given any other career path much thought, but you really loved science." My words were tumbling out of my mouth and the brief moments where I would pause, all I could hear on his end of the line was a strained breathing. Like he was hurt. "Your favorite time of day is early morning, when the sun is rising, and you've always wanted to see the Grand Canyon."

He took in a sharp, ragged breath before speaking, "I'm Bucky. I'm Bucky."

Bucky's voice was back, but he sounded exhausted. Even the exhaustion couldn't hide the relief though. I sighed, in relief myself, before speaking up, "Yeah. You're Bucky. A really great man who has been dealt a shit hand of cards. My name is—"

"You're Aj." Bucky said softly. "I didn't forget that. You're Aj."

I wandered over to a bench and sat down. The clothes I had on, yoga pants, a long sleeve shirt, and Bucky's jacket, were hardly winter ready so I was freezing my ass off. But I'd sit here on this bench and talk to Bucky until my fingers turned black and fell off if it meant bringing him some kind of comfort right now.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"I'm…better." Bucky replied. "Keep talking. About anything. I just need a minute."

So, I did. I started telling him about how the Avengers were out on mission and that I was working with a new employee to make social media accounts for the team. Then I went into detail about what Twitter and Instagram were and our plans for each Avenger. When I ran out of things to say about that I started talking about Sal's recovery.

"Thanks." Bucky spoke up during one of my pauses for a breath. His voice sounded much, much better. "I'm sorry I called you like that, doll. I never wanted you to hear me like that."

"That's what I'm here for, Bucky." I said firmly. "I want you to call me when you have these…episodes. I want to help. Please let me do that." It was quiet for another second. "What brought this one on?"

Bucky didn't immediately reply, and I was worried he wouldn't, but finally he spoke up, "My own fault. Stayed up late last night and accidentally passed out in the middle of the day. Woke up from the nightmare… lost."

The last of his sentence was said so softly that I hardly even heard it over the noisy street around me. I bit down on my lower lip nervously. God, I wished I could do more for him. I curled in around myself trying to retain some heat, "You don't mention your nightmares very much. Do you…Do you want to talk about it? It might help?" Bucky was silent again, but I didn't let it deter me. "I have nightmares too. Not that I'm trying to, like, compete or anything, but… I'm not good at talking about them either, but the group says it helps. Tony talks about the ones he has with me, Clint does too, and even Steve talked it out with me once. It seems like it actually does help them."

I rolled the thought around in my head before continuing, "A lot of my nightmares have calmed down over time. I have this one though…it's a reoccurring one. I've had it for years now." Despite spending most of my time stuffing my terrible nightmares into boxes I'd never explore, I let this one come to the front of my mind. "I'm in the Pit, the special ring here that dips into the ground… I'm in the Pit and I'm surrounded by a faceless crowd. The air always feels thick and heavy, like I'm trying to breathe underwater, and I'm fighting someone. Who it is changes, usually. Sometimes it's Boss, sometimes it's a random fighter I've seen in the ring, I had one a week ago where it was Vincent. The worst one I had was…" It felt like I had glue in my throat. I had to swallow a few times before I could speak again, "The worst one I had, it was Clint. I don't know why my brain put him in the Pit with me, but it was him and—and God, I couldn't even look him in the eyes the next morning. It always goes the same, no matter who it is... We're fighting and I start to lose. The other person is wailing on me, beating me into the ground, while the faceless crowd just silently watches. Then I snap. I start to win, but I don't stop. I can't stop. I'm on top of them, and I'm punching and punching and punching until all I see is blood and I still don't stop." My hands were cold and now they were shaking. It was almost too hard to hold the damn phone. "I never told anyone about that one. I'm always afraid they'll think I'm…"

A monster. A bloodthirsty monster craving only violence and hatred.

"Mine are usually memories." Bucky suddenly said and my eyes widened. "Memories from when I…The thing is, I remember every mission. There's so much from my past that I can't remember. I can't remember how I spent my 18th birthday. I can't remember the first girl I kissed or my first date. I can't remember Rebecca's favorite color. None of it. But I remember those Goddamn missions." His voice was sharp and full of pain. It was the first time I had ever heard him curse while talking to me. I wished it hadn't happened like this though. I always hoped he'd slip up so I could mock him, but this? I wished we didn't have to have this conversation. I wished I could take away his pain. "In my nightmares, I re-live it. Every night it's a new mission. A new death I get to watch in first person. I think it's why… I think it's why I feel lost when I wake up. The memory of the mission fades away, but the Soldier doesn't. He sticks around for longer."

"Bucky, I'm so sorry." I said. It felt like my heart was breaking for him. Nobody deserves to be cursed like that. To have loving memories replaced by bloody ones. Bucky especially didn't deserve it. "You aren't the Solider. That isn't who you are."

"And you aren't the monster that haunts your own nightmares, doll." He replied back.

We sat there for a moment just listening to the other take in steadying breaths. Finally, I snorted, "We're kind of a wreck, huh?"

Bucky chuckled, "If that's the case, you're the loveliest wreck I've ever seen."

"There's my charming dreamboat." I replied. Bucky began to try and apologize again for calling me, but I didn't let him even try to finish his sentence. "You have literally nothing to apologize for. You were there for me when I was collapsing like a dying star on the anniversary of my mom's death. The least I can do is be here for you."

"I don't know how I'm ever going to pay off the debt I owe you, doll."

I let out a bark of laughter, "Debt? Do I need to remind you that when we first met, you were in the process of saving my idiot life?" Bucky chuckled. "Besides, I want to be there for you, Bucky. That's not something you'd ever have to pay back to me."

"I…" He began then hesitated. I stayed silent, letting him collect his thoughts. "Never mind. What do you have planned today? Other than the—the social media stuff."

I didn't know what he stopped himself from saying, but it didn't bother me all that much. If it was important, he'd share eventually. I chuckled, "I'm planning on sitting in my room and worrying for a couple hours."

"Because of their mission?"

"Yeah."

"You're not outside alone right now, are you?"

I couldn't help but let out another laugh, "I'm talking to you, Bucky. Of course, I'm outside alone."

"Maybe you should go back inside while the Avengers are on mission." Bucky suggested. "Your track record for this stuff isn't very good."

I scoffed, "Statistically speaking, there's no way I get attacked again while they're on mission. That's gotta be like a one in a million occurrence."

"From what I'm gathering, you have that kind of luck." Bucky chuckled. I couldn't entirely argue with that.

"Alright." I nodded to myself. "I gotta go in anyways because I'm pretty sure I'm like two minutes from hypothermia."

"What—?"

"But here's the plan!" I ignored his brief panic. "I'm gonna send my new employee home, and then lock myself in my bathroom and we're gonna spend the entire day talking. I won't have to worry about Steve or Nat sneaking up on me today."

Bucky began to argue, "You don't gotta do that, doll. I'm fine."

"Well, according to you, you're in debt to me, right?" I smirked and stood to walk back towards the Tower, "I'm cashing that so-called debt in right now. You're stuck with me for the rest of the day."

Bucky relented with a chuckle, "That's not so bad of a punishment."

"Jokes on you, because you're about to get very sick and tired of my voice."

"You said that before. After you first woke up in the bunker." Bucky replied. I tried to think back. He was probably right. I was well aware of how much I tended to talk. I couldn't actually remember it though. There were a handful of moments that were blurry in my brain. I blame the concussion and sepsis. "It's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard you say."

I laughed, "Buck, I think you're severely underestimating my ability to spout off dumb shit."

"You thinking I'd ever get tired of hearing your voice, is the definition of dumb." Bucky argued. He let out a soft hum, mumbling something in another language, then spoke again, "If my life were a record, your voice would be my favorite track."

There was a fluttering feeling in my chest and I felt my cheeks heat up. I smiled to myself, "I love when you say that cheesy stuff."

"I know." Bucky chuckled. "Call me when you get settled, doll."

We hung up on one another and for a second I just stared at the burner phone in my hand. The whole reason I started talking on the phone to Bucky was to convince him to come home, but I had been slacking on that front. These days I was talking to him just because I loved talking to him. I still wanted him to come home obviously, but I was hardly making moves to get that done. Claiming my conversations with him were a ploy to tempt him home was the only thing that staved off the guilt of lying to Steve and the others. Maybe this meant I needed to rethink my priorities here, but I knew nothing would change. Regardless of the guilt I felt, I'd never betray Bucky's trust. Not even for Steve. Why did I have to be a bad friend to Steve in order to be a good friend to Bucky?


The metal weighed heavy on his skin, it itched and quite frankly hurt like a mother, but it was better than a damn cast. All a cast would do is get in his fucking way. The metal he let that nazi bastard weld around his arm had a damn flamethrower attached to the end. This was much, much better. Vincent twisted his arm around to glance at the steel that encased his arm. That stupid bitch had snapped his arm in two and his elbow was fucked to hell. He could've let it heal on its own, but he chose the weaponization option instead. Now he might never have a normal arm, but, again, it had a fucking flamethrower.

"Hey, Kraut!" He barked. The bald-headed asshole's shoulders stiffened, and Vincent let his lips curl up into a smirk. It was almost too easy to get a rise out of this guy. "You need a minute of privacy to stalk those superhero pussies, or are you gonna tell me the fucking plan?"

Von Strucker had approached him. More accurately, the guy had sent some lackey to approach him. Admittedly, he had the first lackey killed. The guy rubbed him the wrong way, but the second one Von Strucker sent had talked a bit quicker than the other. Did Vincent Morgan, the Reaper, want to work with this nazi shithead? No, he didn't, he didn't like sharing the end goal with anyone, but the amount of money put on the table left him with no other options. His baby brother Eugene would be pissed to find out that his plans for dealing with Small Fry had changed, but that honestly just made this new plan so much more appealing.

"I told you to not call me that." Von Strucker growled in annoyance. Behind him, the security feed was showing the Avengers taking down some other base of theirs.

"Aw, you in a pissy mood because the Avengers are out breaking your toys?"

"The loss of that base, like the loss of List and the other bases, is inconsequential." Von Strucker replied coldly. His accent grated on Vincent's nerves. "A sacrifice that needs to be made."

Vincent scoffed, "You're ice cold, you nazi piece of shit."

The man narrowed his eyes at him, but it didn't faze Vincent. He's dealt with worse and all he could think about was how stupid Von Strucker's single glass eye piece was. Von Strucker turned back to watch the screen, and Vincent let his own gaze drift toward it as well. Vincent was a ballsy kind of guy, but he wasn't suicidal. Taking on the Avengers seemed like a half assed kind of plan, and if the nazi thought he was gonna even attempt that shit he had another thing coming.

"You rang?" A new, gravelly voice questioned.

Vincent turned and his eyes widened at the sight of the tall, badly burned man. He wore tactical gear, had multiple weapons on him, but all he could focus on was the warped and scarred skin that covered every inch of his body that was shown. Vincent shook his head, "Holy shit, you are one ugly motherfucker."

The man reached for the handgun at his thigh, Vincent raised an eyebrow at the motion, but Von Strucker threw out a hand halting the threat, "Rumlow, down."

Rumlow clenched his jaw angrily, but Vincent just winked at him, "Yeah, boy, down." The badly burned man's lip curled into a sneer, but it only amused Vincent more. This guy was easy to fuck with too. He'd keep that in mind. "So, what's got us all hanging out around here? You invite us for the 'Avengers fucking up your shit' watch party, Krout?"

Von Strucker's jaw clenched briefly, "I thought it was time the two of you met. Since apparently you can't pick up a little girl—"

"The bitch can fight! Eugene undersold her talent and then that freak spider kid swung in and fucked everything up!" Vincent roared. He hated that Small Fry had slipped out of his grasp, but he hated Von Strucker insinuating he couldn't do this on his own more. "I don't need Freddy Kreuger—" He motioned to Rumlow, "—getting in my damn way!"

"Sir, if you would tell me the mission, I'm sure I can handle it. Alone." Rumlow growled.

Von Strucker mumbled something under his breath in German then began to walk away. Rumlow was quick to follow his steps, but Vincent lagged behind. The lab he led them to was buzzing with activity that he didn't quite understand. All the workers in the room were speaking various languages, but even if they spoke English he knew, based on the equations and formulas on the board, that this would go over his head. Vincent's eyes landed on a staff sitting on a glass table hooked up with wires to various machines. The end of it glowed an eerie yellow that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

"My work here is monumental. I cannot waste any more time putting effort in this manhunt." Von Strucker snapped. Vincent looked away from the staff to see that the scientist was standing in front of two cells. The thick, glass wall allowed them to look in. One room had a man lying on the bed vibrating like he was having a seizure while the other had a pretty girl lying absolutely still, staring up at the ceiling, with glowing red in her eyes.

"What the fuck?" Vincent questioned.

"Inhumans are the future of warfare." Von Strucker said. "The super solider serum is coming along slowly, and we are missing vital pieces. So, while I wait, I create my own weapons."

He droned on about his mission and view, but Vincent mentally checked out of the conversation. He hated this guy. Von Strucker was pretentious, arrogant, and absolutely insane. Personally, Vincent had no issue with those traits specifically. He knew some would describe him the same way, but something about the way it mixed in this nazi bastard truly rubbed him the wrong way. Vincent was a terrible human being, he knew that, but he was an American piece of shit. If he didn't need the resources HYDRA had to offer him, Vincent was sure he'd really enjoy putting a bullet between this guy's eyes. Hell, he daydreamed about it.

"I need the Bradshaw children." Von Strucker suddenly snapped. Vincent focused back in. "One is in Greece the other in New York. The two of you will work together to bring them to me or I will no longer have use for either of you. Now, go."

Von Strucker waved them off and slipped away to speak to another scientist. Rumlow turned to face him and both men just stared at each other for a minute. The guy looked like a shriveled asshole but dealing with anyone other than Strucker had to be a step up.

Vincent nodded once, "You were military, weren't you?" Rumlow didn't reply, but Vincent knew it when he saw it. He had been a marine himself for years. He chuckled, "You buy into this HYDRA bullshit? You a nazi son of a bitch too?"

"I'm not a nazi. That isn't what this is about. HYDRA is about order. A new order." Rumlow said gruffly. He took what he thought was a threatening step forward, "We—"

Vincent let out a bark of laughter, "I'm not part of this scene. I like to keep to my little part of the world, my little kingdom, but I know enough to know that HYDRA was founded by a bunch of nazis. So, you can parade around thinking otherwise, but that just makes you a dumb son of a bitch on top of it all."

"Then what does that make you?" Rumlow scoffed, "You're here too."

Vincent smirked and gave him a nod, "I have the little one. You can pick up the older sister. I hear Greece is nice this time of year. Maybe it'll help your complexion."

He turned and began to leave the lab. Rumlow called out after him, something about needing to work together, but Vincent blew him off. He didn't give two shits what Strucker thought. Vincent didn't need Rumlow's help. He didn't want his help. And as for working with this nazi organization? Well, fuck 'em all. He just needed an opening to get to Small Fry, a means to an end, and they gave him that. Vincent was going to get her, he was going to beat the ever loving shit out of the bitch, maybe break every joint she has as payback, and then she was coming with him to Vegas. Maybe he'd even get a chance to kill Strucker at the end of this too. That'd be a nice little bonus.


"Ms. Bradshaw, a package was left on the deck for you." JARVIS called out as I was making dinner. The plan had been to eat something small, but I had skipped lunch to keep talking to Bucky and now I was starving. I called out a quick thanks then jogged to the elevator for it to take me to the penthouse.

"Who left the package?" I questioned. If JARVIS was telling me about it, and sending me to go pick it up, then it must not have been dangerous.

The elevator doors opened and I moved to cross the room. JARVIS spoke again, "Ms. Simmons left it. She parked the quinjet and left it on the bench for you. Ms. Simmons also wanted me to tell you hello and that she was sorry she couldn't stay to talk."

Just like JARVIS said, the quinjet pad was empty of any ship and a small box sat on the bench for me. I scooped it up and hurried back to the elevator to go back to my floor. Staying in the penthouse, without anyone in the Tower with me, felt too weird. The space was too large, too empty, and too quiet.

When the elevator doors opened back to my floor, the radio I left on was still playing and I was halfway into tearing the box open. Inside was a bottle of those Omega-3 Fish Oil pills you could buy at any drug store and a piece of scratch paper with scribbling on it. I tucked the box under my arm and unfolded the paper.

'Aj, I should've sent this to you when I first got my hands on it. I don't know how much you know, but more inhumans have been going through terrigenesis lately and it's because of this. The crystals we dumped into the ocean leaked and ended up being processed into a huge batch of these pills. If you want to become inhuman all you have to do is take one. The choice is yours and yours alone, don't let anyone sway you either way. Text me if you have questions. –Daisy'

The note fell from my fingers as I scrambled to grab the box again. I grabbed the bottle of pills and glanced it over. There was nothing special about them. The only thing that stood out was that the seal was broken. Even with the seal broken though, the bottle was entirely filled. It had to be missing only a couple of pills from it. I stared at the bottle in my hand. It felt a lot heavier now for some reason.

This was it.

All I had to do was take one of these and my life would forever be different. Just one pill. I assumed the deadly risks were null in void in this form since Daisy was sending it to me. I popped the cap off and shook a few out onto my palm. Funny how something so innocuous could be so life altering.

"Ms. Bradshaw, your heartrate is elevated. Are you in distress? Shall I call sir?"

JARVIS' voice snapped me out of my daze.

"No. No need, J. I'm okay." I said quickly and put the pills back into the bottle. I jogged into my room, straight to my bathroom, and buried the bottle in the closet between two towels. My middle name was 'reckless', 'spur of the moment', and 'impulsive', but I'd hold back on this decision.

For now at least.