"I will not wear handcuffs."
Iron Man throws his arms into the air in exasperation and begins to mutter under his breath. Captain America's smile, though still present, is becoming increasingly strained. Every passing minute is further convincing me that I've made the wrong choice.
"You're a powered individual who created a human icicle not ten minutes ago and you expect us to trust you?"
"Of course not."
"Then put them on."
"No."
"Argh! Steve, you deal with her." This time, Iron Man walks away to collapse on a nearby crate.
The Captain contemplates me for a moment before looking down at my hands. My skin prickles for a moment before he's scrambling to pull off his gloves. He offers them to me earnestly. I just look back at him.
He presents them again, "How about a compromise? You can't freeze us and you're free to move."
The eagerness in his eyes to forge peace and help the wounded animal he sees before him almost mitigates my annoyance at his observation. So he's already figured out I need to touch an object to manipulate it…there goes my element of surprise.
Careful to avoid skin contact, I take the gloves and consider them, "What happens if I take them off?"
"Then you'll have picked a side," his tone is casual, but the steel behind his eyes reminds me that Captain America had earned his military title.
I pause before responding, not at his words but because of my own realisation. How do I know he was an actual soldier? The thought had felt too subliminal to just be a guess, and only works to further cement his familiarity.
I slip on the gloves and present my hand to him, "Compromise it is, Captain."
Captain America nods and shakes my hand while I resist the urge to throw him over my shoulder. Iron Man rolls his eyes from across the corridor but joins us nonetheless.
"Ok team, we're on our way back. Cap's picked up a stray, so watch out," Iron Man speaks into some receiver and gestures for me to walk next to him, obviously not trusting me to walk behind him.
The Captain draws pace on the man's other side and lets a few moments of quiet pass before speaking again, "Please, call me Steve. This is Tony."
The olive branch is kind but also given in hopes of eliciting my name. The Captain's hope will have to go unanswered as I don't even possess the information to answer him. The closest things I have to names are the Wraith and Asset 26743. However, even those titles are now meaningless.
I don't respond and the rest of the walk is endured in silence.
—
I stand before a semi-circle of individuals who ultimately look unextraordinary but somehow captured a HYDRA base.
"So, explain again what she does exactly?" An extremely disheveled man with a thick mop of dark curls leans towards me, curiosity swamping his face.
"As far as I, the resident genius, can tell, she can change the state of water molecules just by coming into contact with them. That means no touching, Bruce." The man, who had stepped within arm's length, quickly withdrew at Iron Man's words.
Ah, good to know I still have some tricks up my sleeve.
"A water magi? Elemental manipulation is old magic and rarely wielded on Asgard, but also much more than ice and steam, Stark. I would recommend caution, friends, as she is likely a very powerful witch."
Fuck.
Iron Man smiles, apparently amused that I have been caught in my deception, "That is good to know because we're taking Ms Magi with us."
The statement is received without complaint, and the sole woman before me picks up a pair of cuffs silently.
I tense and flex my hands. "I am not your prisoner."
Before anyone can move, Captain America quickly adds "It's okay guys, she's wearing gloves."
Surprisingly, despite the Captain's reassurance, chaos ensues.
"Sorry, what?!"
"You mentioned a frozen body not two minutes ago."
"Cap, seriously, you cannot take in every reject you find. Take it from me, it's how I got in this mess in the first place."
"Rogers, I think you underestimate a water magi if you think gloves are sufficient protection."
The Captain makes a 'stop' motion with his hand and the hubbub instantly quiets. Furtively, I am not only impressed with his control but also by his team's obvious respect for him.
"Look. She chose to go against HYDRA and has agreed to compromise with us. I'm not saying that we're all suddenly best friends but this is a start. Anyway, where would any of us be without second chances?" His words are received with unhappy silence.
However, the moment passes and the woman turns away to board the nearby quinjet. A man carrying a bow and the other on- Bruce shortly follow her. The burly (and notably handsome) man who revealed my secret continues to study me and I return the favour. There is a certain cheerfulness to him even now that could be easily mistaken for idiocy or battle-lust but intelligence glitters behind his eyes. Great, another one I've got to look out for. This is not going to be as easy as I thought.
Eventually, he turns towards the plane but not without pausing to whisper something Iron Man's ear. His grim nod in response fails to fill me with confidence as he too enters the quinjet. Finally, it's Captain America and myself left, both waiting for the other to move.
I could take him.
No.
I could just knock him out before anyone notice.
No.
I-
I will stay the course. For now.
"Don't worry about them. They'll warm up to you, I'm sure." The persistent, small, and genuine smile remains pinned to the corner of the Captain's mouth.
Christ, I'm thinking of knocking him out while he's trying to make me feel better. I'd call him naive but the way he's been subtly yet carefully watching my hands shows me otherwise. No, he's not gullible, he's just giving me a chance. The thought sticks in my chest as I nod and move to turn from him.
However, before I do, a few simple words find their way to the surface, "Thank you…Steve."
I clamber into the plane to avoid his reaction and take a seat far from the others. I just need everything to stop, just for a minute, so I can try to piece my thoughts together. A few seconds pass and then a solid form installs itself in the seat next to me. For fuck's sake, he's really not going to leave me alone. I continue to stare at a single spot on the metal floor.
He doesn't speak until the quinjet is at cruising altitude. "So, what can you tell us?"
I'm caught off guard. "About what?"
I feel, rather than see, him shrug in response. "Anything. Important things about HYDRA, yourself, your past…"
There's a tiny shift in the water in the air that is imperceptible to everyone else but is like a slap in the face to me. I've got this, I don't need HYDRA to be in control. A lapse in control, an emotional response to a stranger, would not and could not happen again.
"There's not much to tell," it's not so much the truth as a not-lie, "They see me as a trained dog, capable of following orders but ultimately an animal. I was only told what was pertinent to my mission. As for me, they wiped my mind if I showed signs of anything from disobedience to memories. Sorry if you were looking for information but I'm coming up dry."
The last sentence is sharp, dipped in resentment and buried frustration. However, Steve's composure remains unwavering, only punctured by a tired sigh.
"That's alright, I figured that you would have undergone similar manipulation and treatment. I just thought it wouldn't hurt to try."
"Then why am I here?" The question comes out in a humiliatingly desperate rush before I can swallow it.
No one responds, and so I finally look up to regard Steve. His face is indecipherable and it's infuriating.
"Tell me! What's my purpose if not for information or leverage?"
Understanding or grief or pity sneaks into his eyes and he ponders his own hands before responding. The chatter of the plane has long since gone quiet.
Steve's words are clear among the still of air, "People don't need to serve a purpose to be saved. You don't need to serve a purpose. You're allowed to just…be."
I can't find the words to respond so I simply return to burning a hole in the floor with my gaze. This, unsurprisingly, doesn't stop him from talking.
"Let's start simple, then…How about a name?"
"I don't have one. I had a title and I had a number but they're not even mine anymore."
"Then pick one."
I give him a look like a second head has popped out of his neck, "That's not how names work. You can't choose your own."
He fires right back, "Why not? They took your name, so give yourself another."
He's prepared for this…I wonder why?
"I…I guess I choose Eve. That name is important, I just don't know why."
While the name is familiar, I'm also certain that it's not my own. So, it only grows the list of things I've forgotten that are beginning to haunt me.
"Eve it is, then." There's a certainty in Steve's voice that I envy, the ease in which the name finds its home on his tongue.
Despite other questions and statements thrown my way, I remain silent for the rest of the journey. The only word that my mind can deal with at the moment is 'Eve' and what it could come to mean.