A/N: This was supposed to be out tomorrow, but I remembered I'm gonna be busy with some other stuff so TA-DA! Again, I was too lazy to do the art thing (cue the gif) but I swear to God I'm gonna get back to that again soon. Probably. Next chapter, I promise.

Leave me rambly comments and stuff, loves!

Chapter #13:

It's Nice to See You Again

"The worst part about anything that's self-destructive is that it's so intimate. You become so close with your addiction and illnesses that leaving them behind is like killing the part of yourself that taught you how to survive." –Unknown (The Mind Journal)

"Tony, I love you, but if you show me one more shitty resume, I am going to kill you."

"You know what? I love you, but please kill me. Actually, you probably can't because I definitely died without knowing, and now I'm in hell."

The two of us just stared at one another in a showdown that neither one of us would be able to explain logically. For the past three hours, we had been sitting in his lab going through the resume of apparently every single lawyer in New York City and beyond. Tony had told me this would be easy, but it was anything of the sort.

"You lied to me." I tossed aside another resume with a pout.

"No, no." Tony held one hand up at me, "I said this would be easy, and it should've been. You are making this very difficult."

"I am not—"

"I've never seen somebody nitpick so thoroughly on resumes of such highly educated people." Tony finished.

I shrugged and leaned back in my seat with crossed arms, "Well, we need someone perfect. We can't go through what we did before."

"Define perfect."

"I don't know." I mumbled. "Just…perfect."

Tony threw his hands up with a mocking smile, "Oh my God! Why didn't you say so earlier? I was hiding all the perfect resumes in my office because I thought you wanted the un-perfect lawyers. My bad."

"I don't appreciate your tone." I mumbled. Tony raised an eyebrow at me, and he still had a small smile, but I could tell he was actually beginning to get annoyed. Not that I blamed him. I was being nitpicky, and I definitely wasn't any fun to be around right now. Probably wouldn't be until we got an official legal team for Bucky.

It had been a little over a week since I fired Tony's actual legal team, and it had been the most normal week of my life. It was almost as if it hadn't started with saying good-bye to Granny, finding out I was a mutant of some kind and that some fun little crew of other mutants wanted me to join their band of merry misfits, and Bucky's sins hadn't been plastered to the media. Days went by with normal schedules and normal activities. The only unusual bit was that I wasn't allowed off campus at all.

"I missed lunch. Gonna go rustle something up." I stood up. "How about you work on the arm and we'll pick this up later."

Tony nodded, already moving to where his set up was, and gave me a wave over his shoulder, "You know where I am."

I turned and waltzed out of the lab casually, rolling my tense neck as I went. I had missed lunch, that wasn't a lie, but I wasn't hungry at all. An hour in the gym would definitely put me in a better mood. I hoped. Ever since HYDRA had attacked, I felt more…jittery. As if there was fire prickling under my skin. It was a recognizable feeling. One I knew all too well.

I wanted to fight.

Living with the Avengers had seemed to finally push out most of that hardcore craving, but after beating the shit out of a few up-to-no-good agents it was like that craving had come back full force. There was nothing quite like gathering a wave of anger and then rolling it out on someone like the wrath of God. I was still angry, but now I was just angry at myself. I hated that I craved this again. Every time I thought I had grown, gotten away from this, it was like the bloodlust strolled back in to pull me into a hug and whisper temptations in my ear.

After changing into some gym clothes, I jogged down to the main training gym. Natasha was the only one in here right now, other than me at the moment, and she looked up from what she was doing to greet me.

"You wanna spar?" I shot her a finger gun.

Natasha set down the weights in her hands, rubbed her hands on a gym towel, then wandered over to me. She smirked, "Are you sure you wanna spar me?"

"Absolutely." I shrugged and rolled my shoulders, "I'm a mutant now so obviously I'm scared of nothing and no one."

"Technically, you've been a mutant all your life." Natasha replied. I quickly taped my hands and then we both faced off against one another. Before I could start, Natasha raised an eyebrow at me, "You're leaving your shirt on again?"

I fake gasped, "Nat, are you trying to get me naked?"

"Um," Sam's voice called out. Both of us glanced over to the door where Sam and Bucky had just walked in. Both shot us looks of questioning amusement. Sam held one hand up, "Not that I'm complaining, but maybe you wanna take this somewhere a little more private?"

"Shut up." I chuckled.

Sam winked at me, Bucky gave us both a nod, and then both men walked off to the side. I looked back to Natasha, got my feet back into a comfortable position, and put my hands up to block my face. The redhead didn't move toward me. Instead, she crossed her arms. I groaned and let my own hands fall in exasperation. Only then did she speak up, "You didn't answer my question."

"I am very obviously wearing my shirt right now, trying to fight you, so…" I nodded, hands outstretched, "Yes, I guess I will be keeping my shirt on."

"Why?"

I had to physically resist the urge to roll my eyes, "I don't know. It's drafty in here."

"Aj."

"Nat."

We both just stared at one another, waiting for the other to give in first. This wasn't a contest I was looking to lose though. The last thing I wanted to talk about right now was the fact that I was embarrassed and ashamed of a scar on my abdomen. It was dumb, and I knew that. I wasn't looking for a lecture or rant on how I should love myself more. I hated seeing the damn thing so if all it took to fix that issue was wearing a GD shirt then I'd wear the GD shirt.

Natasha must have noticed my resolve because she finally sighed and moved into a sparring position. My lips curled up into a grin, and I lunged forward.

And, that's how I spent the next thirty minutes of my life.

Getting my ass handed to me by the Black Widow.

I hit the mat hard enough to roll over my shoulder and land on my stomach. With a groan, I shakily pushed myself back up, panting, and got to my feet. Natasha was breathing a little harder, was breaking a sweat, and that brought me some comfort. Yes, she was throwing me around the mat like a rag doll, but I was making her strain herself at the very least.

Natasha opened her mouth to speak, probably to call it, but I threw myself forward again with a cross punch. Natasha swiped it out of the air and followed it with an elbow thrown into my face. I threw my arm up, blocking it, then swiped my leg out to try and catch hers. She lifted her front foot, dodging it, but while she was momentarily unbalanced, I jumped and threw my other foot into her chest. She stumbled back with a grunt, but I kept pursuing.

I threw a hook cross combo that she blocked individually. A punch of her own slipped through and clipped me on the face when I didn't block in time. It gave me a small window though, and I planted an uppercut right into her diaphragm. I kicked out again, but even while struggling to catch her breath from the last blow, Natasha leaned back and dodged the kick.

Quickly, I closed the space and grabbed around her neck with my hands, locking my fingers, and tried to throw my knee into her chest.

Once. Blocked.

Twice. Blocked.

Then Natasha lifted my arms marginally and elbowed me hard in the ribcage just under my shoulder. It broke my grip and she followed it with a series of punches that put me on the defense this time.

Right hook. Block.

Left hook. Block.

Uppercut. Block.

Natasha tried to throw a front kick at me, but I kicked out just in time to hit her shin and block the kick itself.

Natasha would be looking for an opportunity to grab me. I blocked two more hits, stumbling back. That was her finisher. How she always put me on the ground. I blocked again, and this time she caught my arm tightly and used her forward momentum to swing her legs up and around me in a familiar move. One leg hooked under my arm, and the other rested on the back of my neck. She was going to throw me, just like I thought. Natasha rolled forward and rather than fighting it I let the momentum take me.

She hit the ground on her back first, and I felt myself get whipped above her before hitting the mat myself. When I hit this time though, I made sure to twist and get a tight grip on her arm. Using the same momentum that sent us to the ground, I grunted and rolled onto my feet, keeping my arms locked around hers, and yanked her toward me so I could press my shoulder into her gut and lift her up into the air. I pushed to stand, one hand on her arm and the other hooked around her thigh so she sat on my shoulders, and with the last bit of energy I had left I threw her off as hard as I could.

Natasha hit the mat on her side then rolled until she landed on her stomach. The redhead lifted her upper body, resting on her elbows, and gave me a grin, "Finally." I heard clapping from the side where the boys still were, and I tried to catch my breath. Natasha pushed herself up with a proud chuckle, "I was wondering how many times I was going to have to flip you before you figured out how to counter it."

I had done it. I had beaten Natasha. Not really. It didn't actually count since she technically kicked my ass 17 times today before I managed to do it right. Still, this was a big deal. This had been my goal since Natasha started training me, yet… I didn't feel that satisfaction I thought I would. Instead, I felt disappointment that I had to stop. The fight wasn't over. Not really. Fights didn't end until the other person couldn't get back up.

"Aj?" A hand fell onto my shoulder. Natasha had walked over. She was still smiling, but it wasn't quite as excited as before. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Tired." I forced a smile back. "You wiped me out, Nat."

"Well, you gave it back just as hard." Natasha grinned. Only the redheaded, ex-assassin would be so happy that I managed to pull one over on her. She slapped me once on the back before telling me to hit the showers. She gave Sam and Bucky a wave before walking out herself.

I turned on my heel and instead of leaving, I walked over to where the boys still were. Sam was running on a treadmill while Bucky sat on a work bench going through his physical therapy. He was far enough along that he didn't need an actual therapist to walk him through it anymore.

"Looking good there, Aj." Sam called out. He glanced over, mid-run, to shoot me a grin before focusing back on his task.

Bucky gave me a small smile, "Good fight, doll."

"Thanks." I replied then cleared my throat. There was still excess adrenaline shedding off me in waves, and I could feel my fingers trembling. I crossed my arms tightly and shot Bucky a grin, "How's the PT?"

"I'm exercising an arm I don't have, and my only company so far has been Wilson." Bucky answered. Sam chuckled and flipped him off, but Bucky didn't even blink at the action. He rotated his new shoulder, and I couldn't help but watch the motion. He was wearing a tank top so I was able to see the entire thing. The skin around it had healed really well, only his old scars remaining, but even those were pale rather than an angry red.

I nodded, "The nerves?"

"The tingling on my back is gone. So, good, I guess?" Bucky replied. He shifted on the bench and tilted his head to the spot beside him. Without hesitation, I dropped down into the seat. Bucky kept his eyes on my face the entire time, staring, but before I could question him he answered, "Are you okay?"

"Got thrown around by the Black Widow, but I think I'll live."

Bucky shook his head, "Not what I meant." His eyes traced my features again once before his eyebrows furrowed and he spoke in a softer tone, "What's going on with you today, doll?"

For the first time in my life, I wished I didn't feel so seen. It was like Bucky owned the only copy of, 'How to Read Aj's idiot emotions for Dummies'. Usually it felt great, but right now it was nothing more than a nuisance. Bucky held my gaze, unwavering, so I turned to look away. I kept my eyes straight ahead as I shrugged, "I don't know what you mean, Buck. I'm fine."

"Aj—"

"Seriously," I shook my head, "Can you drop it? You wouldn't…You wouldn't get it."

Bucky slowly pushed up to stand and he stood in front of me until I looked up at him. When I finally did, I was met with those same caring eyes. Damn it. I sighed in irritation and stood up myself. Both of us waved a quick good-bye to Sam on the treadmill while walking out of the gym. It wasn't until we got halfway down the hall when Bucky nudged me with his elbow.

"Obviously I'm not gonna make you talk, Aj." Bucky gave me a tight smile, "But you can. Even if…if I can't understand, I can still listen."

Did I even want to try and share this? This was, without a doubt, the most embarrassing part of who I was. Nothing was more shameful to me than the bloodthirsty habits I somehow couldn't shake. Sometimes it felt like I was a rabid animal the Avengers managed to tame just enough to be house trained. Not enough to keep from biting a hand or two off though.

"I'm just…jonesing for my next hit, I guess." I chuckled. Bucky raised an eyebrow at me, and I shook my head, "There's this…" Monster lurking in my skull? I shook my head again. "I've done terrible things. I've hurt people, in the ring, and yeah maybe some of them were asking for it, but I didn't have to…"

Enjoy it so much.

Bucky came to a slow stop and held his hand out to stop me as well, "Aj, you know… You know my past, what I've done. If anybody could understand—"

"It's different." I argued. "You're…innocent. You never had a choice, Bucky. HYDRA made you into what you were, wound you up, and then pointed in a direction. Everything I did, every part of me, was me choosing to become this—"

"I was a soldier, Aj." Bucky said firmly. "You, and Steve, and the others… I appreciate everything, but I feel like all of you forget that." He shook his head. "I made hard decisions then. Yeah, HYDRA gave me the serum, the arm, the— but I wasn't innocent when they took me."

"Bucky—"

Bucky didn't let me cut in, "Of the Howling Commandos, I was the sniper. Not because I knew Steve, but because I was the best. Before the first time HYDRA picked me up, I lead missions, raided Nazi strongholds—"

"Nazis, Bucky!" I snapped. "I don't know what point you're trying to make, but all I heard was you were a superb soldier who helped put an end to the nazis."

"Yes, and they were a godawful, evil organization." Bucky turned so we were head-to-head now. "And while I'm sure some of the people I killed deserved it, I'm also sure that some of them were just kids that got enlisted and had that vile propaganda shoved down their throats." Bucky narrowed his eyes. "I don't regret serving my country, but when you put a human being in your sights and choose to pull the trigger… that changes you." There was a pause where we both just tensely held one another's gaze. "What HYDRA did to me… What they turned me into…Maybe—Maybe I am victim in that sense." Bucky let out a sharp chuckle, but there was only pain in his eyes. "But don't tell me I don't understand the concept of choosing a fight. I'm not innocent."

I crossed my arms. How did this fight even start? How had the good intentions unraveled so quickly? I shook my head at him, "You were in a war. A war you were enlisted into, while I—Hah, I chose to start working in an illegal underground fighting ring and then debt or not I chose to stick around. Don't think those are really so comparable!"

"You're being ridiculous." Bucky scoffed.

"And here I thought you'd understand, Bucky." I threw my hands out and spat out his name with a smile.

Bucky shook his head, eyebrows furrowed and his mouth pulled into a tight line of frustration, "Don't do that."

"I have errands to run." I snapped and turned to march away. Bucky didn't try to stop me, and he also didn't call out after me. For that, I was thankful.

Bucky stormed into Tony's lab. He didn't mean to be walking in such a rushed anger, but it couldn't be helped. Irritation filled his brain like static. Annoying and impossible to ignore. The fight with Aj was fresh on his mind. He had a rough morning with Muneeba. It happened sometimes. She had only tried to help but digging through things he didn't want to remember or think of put him on edge. It was obvious to him that Aj was in an equally as irritated mood as him when they started talking and they had just managed to press the exact wrong buttons on one another. They argued over the phone before and they had arguments here in the Compound too, it wasn't out of the ordinary, but it was unusual for them to get that heated at each other. Usually, they calmed down before it got to far along.

The urge to fix it mingled with his annoyance, but he knew there was nothing to do about it now. Aj needed time to cool off a little and so did he. Later today, he'd go and see her to try and clear the air.

Tony was in the back and when Bucky finally got to him he froze at the sight of the arm the man was working on. This was the most done that he had seen it so far. There was still a shine to the metal, it couldn't be helped Bucky thought, but Tony had used a dark gray material so it wasn't quite so noticeable as the one HYDRA had built. The seams were a shade just slightly darker than the main portion.

"Hey, Barnes." Tony greeted and set down the tools in his hands. He motioned to the arm, "How's it look?" Bucky gaped like a fish out of water, and the genius smirked. "That's some good, speechless approval right there." He motioned to the outer portion of the shoulder. "I was thinking of painting an Iron Man mask where the star used to be. I feel like I deserve that much."

Bucky chuckled, "You could sign your damn name all over it and I'd be grateful, Stark."

"Good answer." Tony replied and went back to tinkering with it. "There's a couple more tests I wanna run, but I'm nearly done."

"I appreciate everything, Tony." Bucky nodded.

"Don't sweat it." He just brushed off the gratitude with a shrug. Bucky had noticed that as confident and bold as the man liked to act, anytime someone tried to express their thanks he tended to hurry past it. "Hopefully, you'll have a lawyer at some point this week too. The longer we wait the higher the risk of the media finding you here."

Bucky shook his head, "Don't let Aj work on that anymore today." Tony gave him a curious look. "She's stressed. Everything that happened still has her on edge and I don't want her adding to it by worrying about this."

"She's gonna worry regardless." Tony snorted. "It's one of her special skills. Especially when you're involved."

Bucky didn't know if he could argue because he definitely felt that way about her. It was like a portion of his brain was dedicated to either thinking of her or worrying about her all the damn time. He shook his head, "Still…"

Tony paused in his movements, narrowed his eyes, and stared for just a second. Then he lifted the tool in his hand to point at him, "Aw, you and sunshine get into a lover's quarrel?"

"It was just a small argument. We were both too irritated at other things to be having the conversation we were trying to have." Bucky leaned against the counter.

Tony nodded, "I like that you never deny that it's a lover's quarrel. Rogers gets all flushed and nervous and shit, but you just own up to it."

"Because it's not worth correcting." Bucky snorted. "You, and everyone else, know Aj and I aren't—"

Tony groaned, "Barnes, I just complimented you on this. Don't pull a Rogers." Bucky couldn't help but chuckle to himself. The genius rambled on, "Look, I'm gonna shoot you straight, I have made a rather large bet with the bird man on whether or not Aj realizes she has feelings for you or the other geriatric body builder."

"You made a bet with Clint on who she'd end up with?" Bucky asked skeptically. He knew 'bird man' was definitely the more disaster-prone hawk than falcon, but he was confused on why the two of them felt it was appropriate to make bets on their love lives. "Aren't you a billionaire? What do you have to lose?"

"My pride and dignity, Barnes." Tony scoffed. "Clint only has a shred of either of those things left and I'm looking to break him."

Bucky nodded, "Friendship at it's finest."

"Exactly." Tony snapped his fingers then went back to his work, "By the way, Strange wants to come by and check on you again. Final checkup and all that stuff."

He nodded once then glanced around the empty lab. Bucky really didn't feel like being social in any kind of way, and he knew retiring to his apartment ran the risk of Steve coming in to mother him. Before Bucky could even wrap his head around the idea of thinking about asking, the genius looked up from his work and spoke, "You should clean up and then come back down. Like I said I wanna run tests and it'll be easier with you in here." He motioned to the couch against the wall. "Should probably bring something to keep yourself occupied too because I'm not gonna keep you entertained."

"Right." Bucky chuckled. Tony Stark still managed to surprise him. He owed the guy everything, and he couldn't quite understand how Tony could even look at him with the past they had… still, here he was offering him exactly what he needed before he even voiced it. Tony Stark was dangerously observant. Tony nodded his head toward the door, "Bring coffee when you come back. Aj says you're a stellar barista."

"She's just not picky." Bucky shrugged.

"Neither am I." Tony replied and went back to work.

Bucky hesitated a second longer before moving to do exactly what the man had suggested he do. It's not how he thought he'd be spending his day, but miracles tended to come as surprises.

A shower and food had not improved my mood at all, and I had a feeling it had to do with the fight I had with Bucky. It had heaped guilt on top of all the frustration. I dropped down onto my couch with a handful of lawyer resumes, but I couldn't bring myself to read any of them. Instead, I just blankly stared at the letterhead that sat at the top of the first one in the stack.

"FRIDAY," The AI chimed overhead in response, and I sloppily tossed aside all the resumes, "Can you bring up the Frank Castle folder onto my TV."

Seconds later all the information FRIDAY had been able to dig up for me was blasted onto the television with his face front and center. Frank Castle looked rough for wear. In the picture he had a military flat top and the kind of frown that screamed, 'If you walk up to me I will stab you in the chest'. His dark eyes were piercing, and his nose looked like it had been broken a few too many times before and never quite healed right.

He was completely and utterly unrecognizable to me.

When I originally started looking him up, I thought for sure he'd look at least a little familiar to me. My dad had his dogtags in his jacket pocket for crying out loud. I figured maybe, just maybe, he had been to the house before and I would have met him. The more I thought about it though the more I realized I couldn't think of a single friend my father had. Or my mother for that matter. I didn't remember any guests or any extended family. It had just been us. We had neighbors that came to thanksgiving dinners and cook outs, I knew that, but even now when I tried to pull up the face of even one… nothing.

I melted into my couch cushions and just stared at Mr. Castle. All the information on the screen I had accidentally memorized from the amount of times I read over it all. Frank Castle was from Queens and I didn't see anything in his file about him living or even visiting Alabama. So that was a dud. He had been a Captain in the United States Marine Corps. That explained the dogtags I was so weirdly attached to at least. What FRIDAY had found for me showed the tours he did overseas, mostly in Afghanistan, but any more details on that would require me to involve someone like Tony so he could hack the information out for me. Apparently, FRIDAY couldn't just do that on command. At least, not my command. The only other fact I had on him was a news article talking about a massacre in Central Park. A Godawful shooting that had taken the life of his wife, son, and daughter. He himself had been shot in the head, and yet somehow he recovered. Nobody knew where he was, but he was alive.

I wondered about the kind of spite and willpower and rage it would take to refuse to die after taking a bullet to the head. Maybe it was weird, but I understood it. You could never speak for a situation you weren't in, but objectively I could imagine it. If I were to find someone, one day, to put up with my ass enough to marry me, have children with me, and then I had to watch them be taken away by a couple of mobsters with guns? There wouldn't be a force on this Goddamn planet that could stop me. I'd rise from the dead to claw their throats out with my bare hands.

This line of thought alone was making my skin crawl again.

My eyes drifted to the side of the entertainment system where my softball bat was leaning there. Any dried blood flecks had been wiped away a while ago. My hands clenched and unclenched against my thighs. I didn't understand why I couldn't shelf the urge to fight like I used to so often. I had always compared myself to a drug addict, but I never felt 100% like one until this moment. Even back when I first arrived here and was having cravings, they were never this bad. Never this intense. Every single molecule in my body was vibrating and begging me to go find a fight. It'd be content with me wandering the streets looking for the first person who looked at me the wrong way. That wasn't who I was anymore though. That wasn't who I wanted to be.

What did I have to do to be rid of this? What was it going to cost? Mentally I was ready to drop this desire like the bad habit it was. Kick the addiction to the curb and be done with it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to distract myself with literally any other thought. When that didn't work, I pushed myself up off the couch and snatched the bat up. Tightening my grip around the handle, I carried it to my office, opened the door, then threw it in without another glance. I slammed the door shut just as the front door opened.

Curiously, I backpedaled back to the living room until the front door was in my line of sight. Steve stuck his head in with a raised eyebrow. When we locked eyes, he pushed the door open further and leaned against the frame, "Hey, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah." I shook my head. "Why?"

"I was coming to find Clint," Steve pointed back behind him, "But then FRIDAY told me your heartrate was elevated." My eyes drifted to the ceiling with a glare as if the computer program could see and understand that I was pissed. "What's going on?"

I rubbed my hands along my jeans, "You wanna go into the city?"

"What?"

"The city." I repeated. "I'm sick of being cooped up, I need to find Bucky a lawyer, and I…" I bit my tongue and then just shot him a small smile. "I just figure if I go alone all y'all will have a collective stroke."

Steve's eyes studied my features for another quick second before he nodded, "Sure. Right now?" I nodded quickly, and he stepped back. "Alright. Let's go then."

I went to grab my keys but stopped with my hand hovering over them. A thought occurred to me. Maybe if I could find adrenaline in other avenues, my body wouldn't crave a fight so much. I glanced at Steve, "Hey, can we take your bike?"

Charles Xavier was a busy man. He always had been, but it seemed like in the last few months things had doubled. As crazy as everything was though, he wouldn't fall behind in the studies of his students. He owed them that much.

"—and remember your papers are due by the end of this week. I'll be in my office if you have questions." He said, hands resting on the book in his lap as the bell chimed overhead. The small group of students in front of him began to pack up their belongings. Charles noticed Roberto standing in the doorway with tired eyes. The man had traded his X-Men uniform for one of his usual, expensive suits.

Charles rolled his chair forward with a small smile, "Roberto. Here again?"

"You can't really be surprised, professor." He replied.

"Your company has to be missing you."

Roberto shrugged, "I trust my employees. Costa International isn't going to crash and burn if I take a month or two off." Charles rolled right by him, but the man kept up with him easily. One hand in his slack's pocket. "Professor, I really think—"

"I know what you think, Roberto." Charles replied with an understanding smile. Roberto mumbled a curse under his breath in his native language. "But harassing the Avengers does nothing to help us. Our focus—"

"Is on saving the mutants that HYDRA kidnapped. I get that and I'm all for it." Roberto argued. "But Aimee needs our help. We can't just sit back and watch America's favorite superhero club get her killed or worse."

Charles sighed. He understood his old student's plight. He truly did and he wanted nothing more than to help young Aimee Jane as well, but there was a time and a place for everything. He nodded once, "There is a man in my office waiting for me. I think it'd be best if you let me take this meeting alone."

Roberto narrowed his eyes, "A meeting? I didn't know you had anyone coming in. Do I know them?"

"No." Charles answered.

"Rob!" A young boy yelled in excitement down the hall.

Roberto glanced over at them before looking back to Charles, "This conversation isn't over, professor."

"I know it isn't." Charles chuckled.

The young boy reached them, dirty blond hair bouncing in excitement, as his sister raced after him. Both kids squealed in excitement as Roberto gave them both bright grins, "If it isn't my two favorite troublemakers!"

Roberto scooped Tyler up off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder, and then when Taylor reached him he picked her up as well, but just held her in his other arm. The twins and their older brother had taken the mansion by storm when they came a week ago. There wasn't a single student or mentor that they didn't have wrapped around their fingers.

"We missed you!" Taylor beamed. Her chubby cheeks making her wide smile that much cuter. The little girl was bubbly where her twin brother was a little ball of energy himself. "Will you tell us another story?"

"Anything for you, princesa. Which story?" Roberto replied.

From his shoulder, Tyler chimed in, "The one when you broke your arm when you were little!"

Taylor cheered in agreement and Roberto chuckled, "The two of you like that story a little too much."

"It's funny!"

Charles gave them a small smile before moving toward his office. He could hear the twins babbling to Roberto behind him. The meeting he had waiting for him wasn't a planned one by any means, and it was with a man he could hardly call a friend. Charles let his office doors slide open and sitting behind his desk was a man he hadn't seen in many, many years.

"Xavier." Nick Fury hummed, fingers laced on his desk, "You're a tough man to reach."

"Yet you never seem to have trouble reaching me, Director Fury." Charles let his office doors slide close behind him then rolled his chair forward until it sat in front of his own desk. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long."

Fury smirked, "When's the last time we spoke?"

"1987 if I remember correctly."

"That sounds right." The man nodded. "I remember now. I told you I'd help you keep your little family underground, out of sight, but you would keep me in the loop if anything drastic were to happen on the mutant front."

Charles nodded, "It was a good deal. A fair one. One I still appreciate greatly."

"Then why is it you're making my life so damn hard, Xavier?" Fury asked. "You come out of hiding, cannonball out of hiding I should say, and I find out second hand that the people Rumlow and Strucker have been kidnapping are mutants and not inhumans?"

Charles nodded once. He understood the alarm. It wasn't a good look for them. Charles sighed, "This was news to all of us. I did have plans to share, and I feel I should apologize for any…interactions that may have occurred."

"Your little X-Men did stir the pot." Fury hummed. "I need you to get them to back off."

"I'm sure you must have noticed no interference from our end the past week now." Charles argued. "There was just a miscommunication."

Fury nodded, "We seem to be having a lot of that." The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded packet of paper. He set it on the desk off to the side. "Let's clear things up a little."

"What do you want to know?" Charles laced his own fingers together in his lap.

"Aimee Jane Bradshaw." Fury said slowly.

Charles Xavier knew that this was the direction this was going to go in. All the other facts of this situation were simple. Baron von Strucker was an evil man who was looking for power. He had restarted Project Omega from the 70's, which was worrisome in itself, but it was manageable. They had dealt with it in the past, they had thrown up roadblocks for the past 12 years, and Charles was confident that this could be handled again. The only wild card, the only piece on the board that could change everything, was one Aimee Jane Bradshaw. A young innocent woman from Alabama who didn't deserve all the negative attention she seemed to be getting from dangerous men.

"I have to ask first," Charles began slowly, "Is there anything I can say or do that will convince you to hand her over to us? I know you understand that we mean her no harm. We only want to help."

Fury nodded, "I know that. I do. I also know that you and your little family can't handle her. Aj isn't the kind to roll over and allow people to make a choice for her. She has a habit of doing whatever the hell she wants."

"I could've guessed as much." Charles chuckled. She was her father's daughter.

"Now my question?"

Charles turned his chair and motioned back to the door, "If you have the time," Fury stood up and walked around the desk, "I think there is someone you should meet, Director Fury."

In hindsight, traveling all around New York City visiting various lawyers and having them kiss my ass to try and get the job while I was in so bad of a mood probably wasn't one of my more well thought out ideas. As I hurried out of the office building, my eyes landed on Steve who was leaning against his bike waiting for me by the curb. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest and there was only concern in those striking blue eyes. Steve knew me well enough to know I was in a mood, but I was grateful he hadn't pressed on the subject quite yet.

"No luck?"

I shook my head, "Nope. At this rate, Bucky has a better chance of just letting Clint be his attorney."

"Clint?" Steve cracked a smile.

"He's surprisingly good at arguing when he wants to be or actually tries." I replied. "You remember the last time we played monopoly. He won us all over."

Steve shook his head, "That's because we were just all tired of hearing his voice."

"I think a jury of our peers would feel similarly." I shrugged.

Steve reached out to set a hand on my shoulder when I got close enough, "Where to next?"

"I'm out of ideas. I've managed to cross off every lawyer on my list." I sighed, "Someone else should be in charge of this. I'm not objective enough. Somehow every single one of them managed to put me off in some way and…"

Steve squeezed his hand, "Aj—"

"I think I'm fucking this up, Steve." I chuckled without humor. "He should've had someone representing him ages ago and I—"

"You're doing your best. You did the same thing for his arm and look how perfectly that worked out." Steve tried to reassure me. "There's nothing wrong with taking your time with it."

"There is if it leaves him high and dry with nobody, Steve!" I argued.

Steve held my gaze for a moment, "This isn't just about…" His eyes drifted around the people walking by us briefly before meeting mine again. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

I shook my head once and pulled out from his grasp. Steve's eyebrows furrowed at the motion, and I had to bite back the minor guilt that washed over me. I opened my mouth, paused, then tried again, "I've just been on edge since leaving Alabama."

"Because of Rosie?"

"Partly, I guess." I wished it was just because I missed her. "Steve, I'm… I'm craving the fight again." His eyes widened a bit, and I looked away. "It's like the bloodthirsty monster I've smothered down managed to wake back up."

Steve shook his head slowly, "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing wrong with—" I snapped my head to the side to look at him, "That entire meeting I just had? I literally had to resist the urge to pick up his damn stapler and break his teeth in with it."

"Did you do it?" Steve stuck his hands into his jacket pockets.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Yeah, that's actually why I haven't hopped back on the bike yet. The receptionist said she was calling the cops while Mr. Lawyer guy picked his teeth up off the floor and I figured it'd be rude to leave before I got to say hello to whatever officers they send down."

Steve held my gaze, and his comfort did not falter. I was being a bitch. I knew it. I had kind of been one all day today, but it didn't seem to even faze Steve. He kept a tight smile on his lips, "You wanted to do it, but you didn't. That's what matters at the end of the day. The choice you choose to make, and as hard as it might be for you right now…" He pulled one hand out and set it on the side of my arm, I didn't pull away. "…you still choose to do the right thing."

"Why do I have to make that choice?" I asked and I hated that my voice cracked. "Normal people don't have to walk around resisting the urge to throw a punch at even the minor of inconveniences." I glanced down at my shaking hands. "I don't need this anymore. Why can't I let it go?!"

Steve reached out to take my hands. The weight of his kept me from shaking and I took comfort in that. He hummed, "Aj, the urge to fight, the desire and dependency of it, wasn't just some bad habit you picked up on the side. You needed it to survive." My eyes drifted up to meet his. He shook his head. "It became a part of who you are—"

"But—"

"Even if you don't want to be that anymore." Steve stopped me from cutting him off. "It's still hard to let that go. You can't just set it aside and leave it there. Like I said, what matters right now is that you're choosing to do the right thing. To not physically lash out, and that's what matters. The rest will come gradually."

Maybe he was right. Fighting had always been my crutch. Physical pain was easier to digest than emotional pain and I relied on that for literally twenty six years. Without it, I would've drowned under the sadness and trauma years ago. The bloodlust and rage just came hand in hand with it. For a good bit there, it had been my only companion. A scary thought occurred to me then, with that side of me gone completely who would be left?

"I just…" I sighed, "I don't understand why it's so much harder now. I thought it would only get easier as time passed." The desperation in my voice too loud to hide. "I just wish it was at least like it was before. When I first came to live with you guys, I… Controlling it was so much easier then. What's changed?"

He shrugged, "Maybe it has something to do with being a mutant."

"I've always been that though, right?"

"Yes, but files talked about a moment of awakening. Some mutants randomly fall into their powers and maybe that's what's happening to you now. You're coming into them completely."

I cracked a smirk at him, "Are you saying my superpower is being a giant bitch?"

"No." Steve chuckled. "I don't know entirely what I'm trying to say, but definitely not that." He paused. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about this."

I tilted my head at him, "Steve, I am probably the least knowledgeable person when it comes to anything mutant related. Ironically."

Steve shook his head, and he didn't laugh at my joke, "Maybe, but the X-Men know a lot, I'd bet." I gave him a confused look. "We haven't heard from them since that day, but… Aj, I think they could really help you."

"Steve." I replied in warning.

"I know, I know." He cut in quickly, "Nobody wants to talk about it, but I feel like we should. They want to help you. I really think they mean well."

I couldn't say I hadn't thought about it. There was a community of mutants out there who could answer a decent number of questions for me. Still, there was nothing that could drag me away from my family. I was sick and tired of being separated from the people I love. If Steve was ever going to have a chance of convincing me of this though, he was definitely picking the wrong day for it.

A police cruiser pulled up to the curb and parked behind the bike. We both looked over at them curiously. Steve glanced back at me with a raised eyebrow, and I rolled my eyes, "I didn't actually break anyone's teeth in with a stapler."

Steve smirked in amusement, but the cops in the car didn't even have anything to do with us. They climbed out of the vehicle and walked down the street in the opposite direction of us. It did give me a small idea though. I grabbed Steve's hand and pulled him to the bike. He squeezed my hand once, "You have a plan?"

"Sort of." I grabbed the helmet that he always made me wear and pulled it on. "We need a lawyer and I… sort of know one."

"You do?"

I tilted my hand to the left and the right hesitantly, "Well, know is a strong word. They represented me once back in the day when I couldn't afford anyone else. The city assigned them to me."

"Who are they?" Steve asked.

"I don't actually remember, but I think the station that arrested me might know."

Steve climbed onto the bike and I wrapped my arms around him. He glanced back at me, "Are you sure they'd even remember?"

"I think so, yeah." I replied with a small shrug. "How many blind lawyers could there be in this city?"

Three years ago, I had been arrested for drugs. Boss' main dealings was in the fighting, but the ring had a lucrative drug trade running right beside it. Obviously, I never partook in that side of the ugly world I lived in, but I ran into it quite a lot. When I found out Boss' dealers were trying to sell to local kids and rope them into the trade? Well, that hit a sore spot for me. Poor kids who thought the only thing they were good for was working on the streets and hurting people? I resonated with that. So, I made it my mission in life, call it more of a hobby, to make the dealers' lives as painful as possible. I'd mess up sales, beat the shit out of any dealers I knew that were talking to the neighborhood kids, and I nearly beat a guy to death over it all.

The main trash dealer I dealt with, I didn't even remember his name, had a penchant for trying to get young girls to buy his shit. As far as I knew he hadn't gone any further than ogling his customer base, but one night when coming home from the ring I caught him in a back alley groping a poor girl who tried to get away. I recognized her as one of the girls that lived in a local foster home, but seeing him press her against the wall filled my vision with red.

I ripped him off her and nearly killed him.

When the cops showed up, all they saw was the bookbag filled with his product and me covered in blood wailing on him. Needless to say, with my record being what it was, there was no talking my way out of this. There were a few officers in the area who knew me well enough to know what I was about, but the guys who picked me up had some sort of vendetta hard on for me. They wanted me put away and were hell bent on it. Since I couldn't afford a lawyer of my own, the state provided me with one.

It had been two guys, new to practice, and though I could still picture their faces their names were lost to me. They had been good guys though. Trustworthy. Smart. I hadn't thought about them in ages. Like I had assumed though, when we went into the station that had taken me into custody all Steve had to say was, 'blind lawyer' and they knew exactly who he was talking about.

"Why Hell's Kitchen?" Steve asked as we walked down the street.

The station said the guy I was looking for was named Matt Murdock. Him and his legal partner, Foggy Nelson, owned their own practice now not far down the road. I shifted closer to Steve as a stranger passed on my right, "I got arrested in Jersey City, but there was this cop who really hated me. He transferred to Hell's Kitchen and when he heard what I got picked up for he pulled some strings and had me transferred over so he could book me."

"Why'd he hate you so much?"

"I resisted arrest once and accidentally broke his two front teeth." I replied sheepishly. "It really was an accident though. I didn't even hit him. Just…got in his way and he tripped over me. Guy face planted onto the street and caught his teeth on the curb."

Steve nodded, "How many times have you actually been arrested?"

"A handful." I mumbled in response.

We walked down the street in silence for another couple minutes when Steve's hand wrapped around my arm to stop me. He pulled me back and motioned to a building we were about to pass entirely. There was a plaque on a red beam that read, 'Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law'. It was a blink and you miss it kind of thing. Steve jogged up the small steps and pulled the front door open for me. I stepped into the foyer of the building where another sign off the side labeled what each floor was.

"Second floor." Steve pointed out and we moved to the staircase since the elevator looked like it had seen better days. It led to another small foyer, but this one had a door off to the side with the names of the men we were looking for on frosted glass. Steve pulled this door open for me as well and when I stepped in my eyes landed on a woman sitting behind a desk.

The room was large, a wide-open archway in the middle combining two rooms. In the dead center of the second portion of it, right in front of a wall of windows, was the woman at the dark wood desk. She looked up with a kind smile that morphed into one of shock when her eyes landed on Steve. He was the more recognizable one of the two of us, thank God.

"Uh, hi." She spoke up. Her long blonde hair hung around her shoulders that were covered in a gray sweater with the sleeves rolled up. Her light blue eyes were still blown wide in surprise. "Can I…help you guys?"

"We're looking for Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson." I spoke up hesitantly. "They probably don't remember me, we met about three years ago… my name is—"

"Aj Bradshaw."

My eyes glanced to the left where a familiar face stepped out of his office. He looked the same as I last saw him, if you didn't count the bandage covering his cheekbone for some reason. His dark hair combed neatly to the side and dark red lens glasses covering his eyes. He had on a dark gray suit, blue tie, and held his white cane in his hands, holding it vertical in front of him as he lightly leaned on it.

"Yeah." I chuckled. "Long time no see—wait, shit."

Steve covered his face with his hand, a smile of amusement peeking through, but Matt just let out a soft laugh of his own, "If I wasn't convinced before by the sound of your voice then I for sure know it's you now. How are you doing?"

"A lot better than when you last saw me—motherfucker." I sucked in a sharp breath. "Life is just real peachy. How are you?"

Matt chuckled, "We're good." He motioned out with his arm. "This is our office manager, Karen Page."

"It's nice to meet you." I greeted her with a nod. Steve introduced himself to the both of them.

Karen chimed in, "Foggy is out right now."

"That's fine." Matt shrugged. "Why don't you guys come into my office?"

Matt turned to walk back into his office, and I turned to Steve, "Do you mind if I…?"

"Go ahead. I'll be out here." Steve nodded.

I gave him a quick smile before entering Matt's office. I closed the door behind me and took a seat in one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. Light filtered in from the three windows behind him and I glanced around looking at what filled his office. A bookshelf, diplomas on the wall…

"So, what brings you here?" Matt asked.

"Well, I, uh, I need a lawyer."

"Officer DeGregory giving you problems again?"

I let out a small laugh, "I wish that was my problem. Things have kind of…escalated since we last saw each other." I motioned to the room around us, then realized he couldn't see me motioning and stopped, "Uh, you and Foggy seem to be doing really well for yourselves. You didn't have your own place before. You worked for that big firm and did my case on the side like a hobby hah. I remember meeting you guys in one of y'all's apartments."

"Yeah, we've come a long way." Matt smiled. "Foggy will be excited to see you."

"I really didn't think you guys would even remember me."

Matt shrugged, "You're a…memorable person. Besides, technically speaking you were our first real case on our own."

"Aw, I'm honored." I joked. Matt remained quiet, waiting for me to continue, but I tried to string my words together. I was out of non-disclosure statements for people to sign which meant anything I said to Matt Murdock right now was free game for him to repeat all over the city. My fingers tugged on the bracelets resting above my watch. "Can I ask you something?"

Matt nodded, mild concern on his features, "Of course."

"You're a lawyer. Obviously." I said and he chuckled. "Why be in criminal defense of all things? Why be a public defender? Why take my case at all?"

"That's a lot of somethings." Matt hummed. I leaned back in my seat while Matt rolled the question around in his head. When I first met this man, and his friend Foggy, I had a good feeling about them. I had kind of been a dick to them, but I had been a dick to everyone back then. Still, both of them did everything in their power to help me. They didn't hold back and because of them I hadn't spent the next 10 years in prison for aggravated assault and drug possession. If it hadn't been for them then I wouldn't be where I was. When Clint and Natasha rolled into the ring, I would've been sitting in a jail cell getting a shitty tattoo from a woman named Jill who was using the snapped off, sharp end of a plastic spork or something. "You were innocent."

I blinked in surprise, "No, I really hadn't been. They got me for aggravated assault and boy had I been aggravated when I was assaulting that jackass."

Matt chuckled, "True, but you had good intentions. You were protecting that girl. If it hadn't been for you that night, she would've been sexually abused." I flinched at the phrasing and sunk in my seat. "The reason why I went into this line of work is the same reason as to why I took your case. The law is important, it protects us and builds our society, but it isn't foolproof. People like you, good people who mean well at the end of the day, fall through the cracks. The law tends to be black and white, but I take on the gray cases. The ones that the law fails."

"Wow." I breathed. "You're a good man, Matt Murdock."

He adjusted his glasses with a slight shake of his head, "Hardly."

I leaned forward in my seat, elbows on my knees, and made a gut call, "Have you heard the reports in the news about James Buchanan Barnes? The Winter Soldier?"

"I have." Matt stiffened a bit. "What about him?"

"He's a really, really good man. Maybe the best I've ever met." I admitted and guilt for the fight I had with him earlier slammed into me. My jaw clenched and for a moment I was glad Matt was blind and couldn't see the tears that seemed to collect in the corners of my eyes. I shook it off and took in a steadying breath. "Bucky isn't…innocent. He's like me. But he's also a victim. Everything you've heard on the news about him… He was brainwashed. He had no choice. HYDRA tortured him for years, twisted him into the Winter Soldier, and then forced him to do Godawful things." I wrung my hands together. "I shouldn't be saying all of this, not without a non-disclosure statement, but I… I'm realizing that I trust you and Foggy. The two of you did right by me back when I didn't think I had anyone in my corner, and I don't know how you feel on the topic, but we—I would owe you everything if y'all represented Bucky."

Matt leaned back in his own seat, jaw slightly popped open in surprise, but he finally nodded, "I can tell you're being sincere, Aj, and I do want to help in any way that I can. I give you my word that nothing you've said here today will leave this office." He pressed his lips together. "However, I need to talk to Foggy about this and we need to meet with Sergeant Barnes. Talk to him. Both of those things have to happen before I can promise you anything else."

I nodded desperately, "That's completely fine and I understand. Please, talk to Foggy and then just call me when you want to meet with Bucky. We're available whenever you're available."

If they met Bucky then they would see. It was the best kind of convincing that any of us could do. Bucky was a good man, a great one, and all it would take is a single conversation for them to see what I saw.

Matt leaned against the doorway of his office. The A/C overhead created a trail of embers at the top of the room. The cool breeze lighting up his senses. Karen moved around her desk. With every step, she pushed through air, and it left a glowing impression of where she had been and where she was going. The smell of her perfume filled the room, but Matt had grown used to it. So much so that it was all too easy to ignore. Matt had been blind since he was a kid, but that didn't mean he couldn't see. It just meant he had to find a new way. A new path to follow.

He could hear the shuffling of papers and Matt knew Karen was seconds away from speaking up. His friend cleared her throat, "Is there any reason why you never told me you knew Aj Bradshaw?"

"She wasn't famous back when Foggy and I met her. She was just a girl who was down on her luck." Matt replied with a shrug. "She was our first case."

"I thought I was your first case?" Karen asked. Nearly a year ago, when him and Foggy opened their practice, they had helped her get clear of a murder charge. A company framed her for it because of knowledge she knew about their less than legal financial side.

"You were the first client of this practice. Aj was our first case back when we worked for Landman and Zack as interns." Matt explained. He could still remember meeting Aj.

Foggy had described her as a beautiful woman with chaos in her eyes. Blood still splattered on her features and clothes. Knuckles still actively bleeding on the metal table they rested on. Foggy said she had been angry, furious, but Matt had never heard such a steady heartrate in the face of a situation like hers. Steady and strong. When she recounted to them what had happened, there had been no regret in her voice and still her heart didn't falter or skip a beat.

Karen spoke, "I know she got arrested a few times, based off what the news had said about her at least, but what did you represent her for?"

"She nearly beat a rapist to death with her bare hands." Matt answered.

Matt heard Karen's sharp intake of breath, surprise, but he also heard her mumble that it was a shame she didn't get to finish. He could hear someone coming up the stairs into the lobby. Matt recognized Foggy's rushed footsteps. The door swung open a minute later and the smell of Thai food filled the room.

"Okay, I just ran into Aj Bradshaw on the street with Captain America." Foggy cried out in shock. "What the hell? She said she came up to see you and that she maybe had a case for us? Is DeGregory messing with her again because I swear—"

Matt chuckled, "No. Not DeGregory. Something else."

"Alright, well let's set up the food and talk about it." Foggy began to set things out on Karen's desk. The center of the room was a blur of red as the two of them began to clear off the desk and set up the meal. Foggy continued, "She's still a total babe. I know the tabloids say her and Steve Rogers broke up, but they looked pretty chummy. Do you think they're dating again and, if so, what are my chances of convincing her to dump him for me?"

Karen laughed, "Dump Captain America?"

"Let me dream, Karen."

As they argued the topic further, he let his own mind wander. Matt truly didn't think he'd ever run into Aj again. He had kept up with her though. Mostly from curiosity. Aj had an energy about her that reminded him of his father strangely enough. A fighter who always got back up no matter what knocked them down. His grandma had a saying, 'Murdock boys got the devil in 'em'. It had taken him a while to understand that personally. Matt had seen it in his father back when he was a kid. His dad would take a hit and a chill would fill the room. An eerie calm. The devil would come out to play. Years later, he had felt his own devil slip out of him. Suddenly, that saying was less anecdote and more a warning.

A couple years had passed, and he found himself in Jersey City, back when he first began his new night hobby of vigilante justice, he stumbled upon her out in the streets squaring off against a couple of guys. His plan had been to step in, to help, but then he watched her take care of herself. The world around him wasn't like it was supposed to be. The only color that existed for him anymore seemed to be those same shades of red. Even at night. Matt saw a world on fire, flickering lights from movements and air pressure and sound and touch, and with that view he watched live as the devil stepped out of Aj to go to work.

Matt had felt guilty. She was living a life where her own devil reigned, and he should've done something about it. Matt should've stepped in and done more. Aj wasn't his responsibility, but she almost felt like an honorary Murdock. Lord knows his dad would've loved her. That 'get back up' mentality, that 'take a hit after hit after hit' lifestyle. Aj had to live her life under the thumb of a man who controlled her actions, controlled her fights, just like his dad and he had done nothing to help her get out of that.

"Matt." Foggy called out. He leaned his cane against the wall to his right and stepped forward to take a seat at the desk. "Alright, now hit me with it. What's the deal with Aj? She alright?"

Matt nodded once, "She's doing really good." He hadn't been the one to pull her out of that hell hole, but he was glad she was out. "But she does need our help. Her friend is in trouble."

"And we're gonna help?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. It's big. Biggest case we'll probably ever work."

Foggy whistled, "It's Aj, Matt. I know how bad you want to help her after everything…" After his friend had learned about him being a vigilante, being Daredevil as the news liked to call him, then Matt was able to talk to Foggy a little bit more about his sins. His guilt. Foggy spoke again, "You call it."

Matt smiled and picked up his chopsticks. He needed to talk to James Barnes, hear what the man had to say in his own words, listen to his heart, but he was going to do everything in his power to help. Matt didn't get to help before, not like he should've, but he wouldn't miss his chance this time.

"Thanks for taking me out into the city, Steve." I said as I climbed off his bike that he had parked back into his usual space at the Compound. I set the helmet against one of the handlebars. The irritable itch still lingered under my skin but knowing that I had Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson potentially in my corner had helped my terrible mood immensely.

Steve gave me a tight smile, but he reached out to stop me before I got very far, "You gotta let me talk to you, Aj."

"We've been talking all day." I countered.

He shook his head, "About the X-Men."

"Steve—"

"Twice now you've nearly died with us."

I held one hand up, "Okay, both of those times are on me. Y'all had nothing to do with it. It was Boss not HYDRA—"

"We want you safe. We want to protect you." Steve argued. "And the X-Men might just be your best bet. It has nothing to do with us not wanting you and everything to do us loving you." Steve moved so both his hands were on the sides of my arms. "If anything were to happen to you…"

I lifted my hands, bent at the elbow, and let them lightly touch his forearms, "I know. I get that. But Steve…" I tried to find the words to explain my reasoning here. "I've spent so much time separated from people I love. Separated from family and I—I know I'm partly at fault for some of it. I got lost. But, I… I neverwant to be separated from the people I love again." I shrugged and Steve sighed. "I know you don't like that, but I need you to understand it, Steve."

"You're right. I don't." Steve nodded once. "But I can try."

I smiled and Steve relaxed a bit. He shifted, wrapped his arm over my shoulder, and I responded by wrapping my own arm around his torso and leaning into him. Steve didn't understand, but that was okay. It didn't catch me off guard. We had always tended to have a different view on things like this, but we always took the time to at least try and view it from one another's viewpoint.

"Can I offer you take-out food and Netflix?" Steve asked.

I chuckled, "I'd like that a lot."

"My place or yours?" Steve asked as we stepped onto the elevator.

"Mine." I answered, "But, I gotta stop by and see Tony first. Let him know that we maybe have some lawyers to work with."

Steve nodded and we both made our way to the private side of the Compound. FRIDAY said Tony was in his lab, a part of me wondered if he had left at all today, and Steve took my hand to kiss the back of it reassuringly as we went our separate ways.

I strolled into the lab, "Tony?"

"We're in the back!" Tony yelled out to me. We? My eyebrows furrowed in moderate curiosity and I made the short trip to the very back of his lab. I hoped him being back here meant he was working on Bucky's arm and not drinking. When I turned the corner not only was I pleasantly surprised, but I was also thrown into a state of absolute shock. Tony was working on the arm, but the arm in question was connected to Bucky's shoulders. Both men looked to me, and Tony grinned, "Perfect timing. Take a look."

"You…It…" I shook my head, a slow, excited smile filling my features, "Oh my God!"

"How's it look, doll?" Bucky asked.

I couldn't find the words to say, but luckily Tony answered for me, "I made it so of course it looks incredible. Now stay. I need to get something."

Without another word, Tony hurried into his back office. I stumbled forward and I was positive my eyes had to still be blown wide. The gunmetal arm Tony had designed looked good on Bucky. It wasn't exactly the arm itself though. Having the arm put a spark of excitement in Bucky's stormy eyes and that was what looked so incredible.

"How's it feel?" I asked.

Bucky stood up from his chair before I could sit down in the spare one. He rolled his shoulders slowly once, then swung his new arm back and all the way around like he was slamming his forearm into something. There was a series of whirring and clicks but I kept my gaze on watching him clench and unclench his fist.

"It feels good." Bucky answered. "Doesn't hurt. Thank you."

My eyes snapped up to meet his, "Tony was the one who—"

"We both know I wouldn't be standing here right now with a new Stark designed arm without you." Bucky replied softly. He stepped forward and I couldn't stop myself from lightly dragging my fingers against the cool metal of his arm. I let my fingertips trace an edge of metal at bicep level before tracing all the way down to his wrist. Bucky let out a shaky breath, "I can feel that. I could feel before, with the other arm, but not like…not like this."

Bucky lifted his left hand and used his middle finger to trail a line down the side of my face. We both chuckled, and I shook my head, "Hey, I know I was a total bitch this morning—"

"No. You weren't. I shouldn't have snapped—"

"I didn't listen to you—"

"I pushed—"

The two of us let out another soft laugh at each other. I rubbed the back of my neck, "I was in a bad mood this morning, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You were just trying to help. I'm sorry, Bucky."

"I'm sorry too." He shook his head. A playful smirk graced his features and seeing him so happy made me feel better. "Now, not to sound too cheesy…"

I chuckled, "Oh come on, you know I'm a real sucker for that cheesy stuff."

"Can I hug you?" Bucky asked quietly. "It's pretty close to the top of my list of things to do once I got my left arm back."

As if he ever needed to even ask. I closed the space, throwing my arms around his neck, and Bucky wrapped both his arms around me tightly. Not only could I hear him release a soft sigh of relief, but I could feel his entire body melt with it. With my head resting on his shoulder, I asked, "What else is on that list of yours?"

"Doing my hair without asking for help and throwing Sam into the pool."

I pulled back with a grin, "You could do that second one with just one arm, I think."

Bucky shook his head with a smirk, "Messing with Wilson is on every single to-do list I have in some way or another."

Tony came back a moment later with nothing in his hands. I narrowed my eyes at him in confusion. Hadn't he left to grab something? Rather than question him, I shook my head and decided to share even more good news, "So, hey, I found us some lawyers."

"You did?" Tony asked in surprise. "At this rate I thought I was gonna have to print off a law degree from some shady website and represent him myself."

"We'd let Clint represent him before we let you." I argued.

Bucky shook his head, "I'd prefer neither of them if I have a say in this."

I chuckled, "No, these guys helped me out a few years back. They're good guys. Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson." I glanced at Bucky. "They wanna meet you first, but I trust them. I promise."

"Well, thank God." Tony breathed. "I love you, sunshine, but if I had to spend one more day with you trying to find a lawyer I was gonna lose it." He said it jokingly, but I knew there was a truth to it. I quickly crossed the space to give him a hug and mumble a quick thanks to him. Tony gave my back a few pats, "Yeah, yeah, I'm great, I know."

I pulled away and looked back to Bucky, "Steve and I were gonna do dinner and Netflix. You wanna join? You can show off the new arm."

"I think Stark has to run a few more tests, but thanks, doll." Bucky nodded.

I gave them both another glance before leaving. As I walked back to my apartment, my mind screamed to turn and go to the gym. To go and do something. As annoying as the itch was though, I knew I could overcome it again. I had too many people rooting for me, too many people in my corner, to let them down. Once upon a time, I managed to get the itch to disappear, and I was nothing if not determined.