Fresh


6th Month

You should be crying, or at least trying to suppress some kind of emotion, yet all you could do was was stare at the plastic stick in your hand as your thoughts ran wild. The cool feeling of the bathroom floor underneath your feet soothed you. The occasional whiff of the shampoo you've both used non stop the last six months, a mix of vanilla and chamomile, lingered around the room like an inviting hug. It helped. You were scared, but you were also excited. Aside from all your negative thoughts and doubts of having to raise a child in a post apocalyptic world, you were happy about this.

This was never how you imagined being pregnant with your first child, but you were okay with it. Content. It was you and Bucky. You cared about each other deeply. The thought of him holding a little baby, your baby, makes your belly flutter with butterflies and your hand goes to it. You rub it softly.

You reach over next to the toilet to rip off a generous piece of toilet paper, wrapping the stick inside. After disposing of the pregnancy stick in the trash, you wash your hands and stare at yourself in the mirror.

Your hair was surprisingly neat for having slept in a little later today and hardly have looked into a mirror prior to now.

Your skin was clear and your eyes sparkled. You were glowing and you've never looked healthier or happier. You looked down at your belly once more. Would he be as happy as you were right now?

You remember that time he showed up with that plan B in his hand.

But that was different you tell yourself.

You take a deep breath.

What you didn't expect when you walked out into the hallway was for Bucky to be standing right outside waiting for you.

Your heart skips a beat. You wondered for how long he'd have that affect on you and if it also happened to him.

"Hey." You say gently.

His eyes flickered over your face and then to over you shoulder and back to you again.

"Hey," He takes a few tentatives steps towards you, taking your right hand in his. It immediately warms you from head to toe, "We need to talk." His hands were always so soft.

He intertwines his fingers with yours. Diligently, he moves you back until you're up against the wall next to the bathroom door and he leans down and kisses you softly. His lips fit against yours just perfectly, you bottom one in between both of his as he leaves you gentle pecks.

When he pulls away you see a certain darkness in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" You ask hesitantly, not wanting any more moments with him tarnished.

He runs his thumb over your cheek and it sends tingles up your spine. The emotions you felt for this man was unreal. It was obvious his thoughts were not much different than yours judging by the look on his face as he stared at you.

"We need to cut the mission short."

You frowned.

"What do you mean? We only have four weeks." He flicks your bottom lip with his thumb, not looking away from you or saying anything else, "Talk to me." You whisper, grabbing his wrist. You leave a soft kiss on his thumb. His lips part as he watches you.

"Word is out in the capitol about two intruders," his voice is low and his eyes are glossed over, "It's everywhere." you feel your stomach drop, "I think they know it's us."

"W—What?"

"I'm not positive, but I have a bad feeling about what's going on and I think we've run out of time sooner than we think," his hand finally leaves your lip and he instead goes for the side of head, cupping you there gently, "My main concern is keeping you two safe."

The heat you feel inside of your is hard to describe, along with the longing look in his blue eyes.

Your eyes search his as your mouth goes dry.

"You two?"

His eyes furrow almost comically.

"You and Ashens." He says it as if it's obvious, which technically it should be at this point.

Ashens.

You gaze falters for a moment and you swallow hard.

"Right."

He tilts his head to the side, giving you a small smile but also looking concerned at the same time.

"You alright?"

You nod.

"I'm fine," you clear your throat and then give him a small complimentary smile that you hope reaches your eyes, despite your fast growing nerves. He bites his lip and then leans down and kisses you again. You run your hand up the side of his face, and you stare up at him. Your head swarms with all kinds of thoughts. If you had a boy, would he look just like Bucky? This moment between the both of you is sweet. He continues to let his nose touch the side of yours and you can't help but wonder if your baby would have his blue eyes. You had to tell him, "Bucky."

"—I'm thinking tomorrow night." He cuts you off. You feel his right hand back on your neck, his hold there gentle.

You pull away, to get a better look at his face and concern ebbs away at you.

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yes. We'll pack tonight and get everything ready. Tomorrow morning we'll go to the tower, take Ashens, and flee. We have enough detail and enough information for the others."

His plan, while cut short, seemed alright with you. But there was part of it that was nagging away at you, the one part everyone continued to ignore. It was the part that had you wanting to come here in the first place.

"What about Ashen?" You ask. Bucky's silent as his eyes search yours. He says your name, gaze falling down to his hand on your neck, "I didn't change my mind, Bucky."

"I know what you want to happen. But it's not the time, sweetheart."

"Not even an arrest, like you said there would be?"

"Y/N, this mission was just about intel and discovering the works behind it so next time we come back we are more ready. We'll deal with him when we're back. We'll come back for it."

It doesn't add up to you.

"He knows there were intruders in here, Bucky. When Steve finds that out, when he finds out we possibly jeopardized mission two point oh—"

"Hey, hey," Bucky shushes you, his hand leaves your neck for your head. He rubs his thumb over your hair and then leans in and kisses your forehead. Unsurprisingly, it calms you down, "Everything will work out just fine, okay? We just can't make any mistakes tomorrow." You bite your lips as you look up at him, "what?" He asks.

You think for a few moments, considering if this was the time to tell him. You don't think it is so you shake your head.

"Nothing."

It was probably the most inconvenient time for you to be doing this, but you were never one to leave things open ended; both a blessing and a curse.

Your talk with Bucky earlier only made you realize how much you wanted to continue your life with him as free of problems and guilt as much as you possibly could. It was a fresh start. You both needed to do it right. This meant it had to be right for your conscience, too.

Before dinner, you told Bucky the truth. You hadn't explained to Pietro why you had run out on him before you came back and kissed Bucky. At least not in the detail he deserved, and it bothered you. Maybe you were too nice.

Bucky was understanding and told you that he also thought it would be a good idea to explain yourself to him.

The trust and respect he held for you was undeniable. So here you were.

It's after the third knock that the door finally swings open. Pietro looks surprised to see you.

He was such a nice guy.

Full of shame, you look down.

"Hey," his tone is surprised, "I didn't think I'd see you again after you…fled."

Right to the chase, huh?

You look up to meet his eyes and you see that familiar playful smile on his face.

"Yeah, look," you take in a deep breath, "I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have just walked away."

He shrugs one of his shoulders that was clad in a black t-shirt.

"Ran," he says simply, correcting you, "ran"

You bite your lip and play with your hands in front of you.

"Yeah, sorry. I shouldn't have just ran. And I should've at least given you a better explanation."

He looks down and nods.

"It's fine," he clears his throat this time, "Did you want to come in?" You look over his shoulder into his apartment and then around the long hallway, "you can say no." his tone was playful and sweet.

You eyes dart to Pietro again and he's looking straight at you, "Pietro, I —" you suck in a deep breath, "it has nothing to do with you. You're a nice guy, we were nice together, such a great friend," you take in one more deep breath, "I know, its not a proper break up, but something happened right before I showed up that night and I realized that I needed to give something that had already been in my life…another chance," he perks a brow at you, "I know it's completely selfish of me and I shouldn't just have left you like that."

He nods again and you both stand there quietly for a few more seconds. He looks down the hallway and then back to you again.

"I mean, you did tell me there was someone else." This was hard. Pietro says your name softly and he's got an understanding look on his face, "Don't be so hard on yourself," he shakes his head slowly, "I've always known there was more to you that I didn't know and I always knew going into our relationship that you were going through something and it had to be at home or with that friend of yours," he pauses again before continuing, "It's fine. I understand. You want to give yourself another chance of whatever it is to see if you find happiness? By all means, go ahead. You deserve it. I'll still be your friend," he gives you a sweet smile, "Not all risks require sacrifices."

You contemplate his heartfelt words for a few moments before your eyes weld up with tears. You find yourself stepping up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"Thank you."

Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in long beach waves.

She looked around and took in her surroundings. What felt like a few years out of cryo already, and she still wasn't used to all of this. Her children and the man she once loved, Ashen, was the only constant factors in her life strange life. They left her with a kind of stability and control, despite the horrible things she never really chose to partake in.

Her love for her children and her husband kept things stable for her, but the moment those words slipped out of her husband's lips along with thatlook, she felt like she was back in that metal chair all over again.

She knew something was going on, and it was something that hit close to home for her.

As far as she was concerned, the avengers had been long gone since the fall. Much less, she'd never went searching for James ever again after her one attempt when she was fresh out of cryo. At the time, she was told he already had been dead for years after being killed at war. She begged and begged her captors to tell her the truth, because she wasn't completely oblivious. One day, her begging became so irritating to them that Hydra had almost murdered her for it but settled for threatening to erase all her memories.

She was put under cryo again.

Not too long after, she'd met Ashen and they fell in love. Of course, she always thought of James when memories would come back, and one day when she'd finally been (what she had thought at the time) set free, she found out he was still alive.

He was an Avenger now. And she was a prisoner in her own home.

She knew the moment her husband said not even the mightiest of the mightiest with complete disdain that he had been talking about something, orsomeone specific.

He only ever held that same look when Daisy would tell him about her memories about James.

The second the phrase left his lips, she felt a nagging pull in her stomach, telling her something was going on. Ashen was hiding something else from her. There was something he was not telling her.

She wasn't allowed to see her son, but she knew she needed to do something. She'd risk it all for her baby boy and for her daughter's well being.

After putting Sophia to sleep, she found herself in Ashens' office. She always hated being in here. It reminded her of what her father used to force upon her. It disgusted her. Everything about Hydra, she hated.

She could still see that look of satisfaction in her father's eyes when he'd been told she was successfully given the serum and it worked.

Daisy continued her way over to Ashens' desk where she found what she was looking for. She looked up towards the direction of the door just once more as a reassurance for herself that she didn't get caught. She logs into her husband's computer and finds what she was looking for. Taking a small and deep breath, she presses play and your face came up on the camera.

Pretty, beautiful girl Daisy thinks.

Daisy's stomach turns into knots at what she sees next. It's a face she hadn't seen in so long.

A face she remembers dearly. Dear to her heart.

James.

That's all she needs.

She's never felt as courageous as she did then. She never wanted to escape the hand she'd been dealt more than she did right now. She knew what she needed to do.

She finds the button just when Ashen steps into the room, but she doesn't stop. She ignores his exclaims and presses the button that shares with the city the faces of the intruders.

She knew she was doing the right thing. She knew James.

He would be okay.

Her husband's strong hand grabs her arm from behind and spins her around, making her face flush red with anger and betrayal, her hair flying over her lips.

She's face to face with the man she once used to love and he's never looked so furious. His eyes were black.

"It's him." She spats.

Ashens' face is stern and hard. He tightens his grip on her arm.

"What the hell did you do, Daisy?"

Daisy clenched her teeth and titled her face higher to look him dead in the eye.

"Something I should have done a long time ago."

He angrily shoves her to the side, making her crash against the wall.

She bangs her head there and passes out, hair fanning over the side of the face.