With two weeks now under my belt of staying at Stark/Avengers tower, I had found myself in a routine of sorts.
I'd wake up, shower, have breakfast with Steve and fend off Clint's sneaky attempts to snatch my food while taking pieces of his, maybe hang around the lab a minute, then retreat to my room. Lunch was usually with Nat and Clint, followed by some TV (I've grown fond of the show 'Supernatural.'). And dinner was usual with Pepper, and Tony whenever Pepper managed to drag him from his labs which I've grown pretty sure is his second home.
Since Bucky didn't seem inclined to share meals with everybody else, I would bring them up to his room, knocking on each door on our floor until I found the right one. Otherwise, the only few times I caught him outside was in the kitchen during a midnight snack run, or once when I woke up from a nightmare and could sense him feeling the same. Although I wouldn't say either of us were close, there was a sort of bond between us because of our similar past at HYDRA. Neither of us might know fully what the other one went through, but we had a better idea than everybody else. It was a weird system of sorts, which was the best way to describe it.
Within days, I realized I had lowered my guard down considerably around the group. No one pushed me to speak or asked questions they didn't think I was prepared for.
I couldn't find my list after Clint took it, and the one time I asked him in front of everyone else during a rare dinner when all of them were available, he immediately changed the subject. It was odd, but he hadn't lied to me yet, so I guess it's just taking longer than I thought. After all it was only fair since I did the same thing to him whenever he so much as mentioned the word therapy.
On my third week, I was called downstairs for lunch. Though suspicious, since no one had really pushed me to go anywhere near outside, I was surprised when Clint was just sitting on a couch in the lobby and all he said was that we were waiting for someone. Half an hour later, someone did come, a clean-cut man wearing a gray suit. Leaping off the couch, I crossed my arms over my chest, my tablet clutched there, the sleeves of the bright blue sweater I've grown fond of, rolled up once again, because even though for the first time in a year I was eating properly, my clothes still were a few sizes too large.
Without saying a word, I raised an eyebrow at Clint, and he quickly introduced the stranger. "Ezra, this is Agent Coulson. Phil, this is the kid I told you about."
When my eyes met his, Coulson gave me an easy smile and extended his hand toward me. Tentatively, I waved but didn't move forward for any type of physical contact. It still didn't agree with me. Even when I knew the hand on my shoulder was now friendly, I felt uncomfortable and uneasy at the slightest touch. "I'm guessing from S.H.I.E.L.D.," I said, squinting my eyes at him. There was a friendly air about him, but remembering what Clint said about a room not so different from my old cell kept me from trusting him.
"Yes, Strategic Homeland Intervention -"
"Stick to the acronynimum," I cut him off, waving my hand. My head spun around at the sound of Clint snickering.
"You mean acronym," he corrected.
"Nobody ever lets me finish," Coulson grumbled, then he gestured to the elevator. "Why don't we speak upstairs?"
"Fine," I mumbled, speeding over to the elevator and already pressing the button for the communal floor. As we settled in and I entered the code all on my own, I heard Clint jokes about growing up so fast, which earned him a swift kick to the shins that had Coulson chuckling.
For lunch, Pepper ended up joining us - Clint having ordered pizza, wings, and salad (he seemed actually offended when I told him I never had pizza before) - and we - and by we, I mean they since I wasn't at all shocked by the turn of events - found out this Coulson's visit wasn't at all just for pleasure, although he makes it known he was glad to see them again and to meet me as well. My only response to him as to was everything he'd said to me during the meal, was to stare him down, except this time I snorted, "I'm sure."
"Sorry, Phil, he isn't very open to new people," apologized Pepper for me.
"Well, I'm not stupid," I said, pushing my plate away. "If it has something to do with me, can we just get it over with before my heart bursts?"
Coulson raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I understand from what Agent Barton told me that you're not in any position to trust others," he told me as I watched him warily. "And you're right. As long as you're under watch here, there's no need to move you, but there are some things we need to know about you, and the organization you were kept. But first, I wanted you to have something." Something about his words irked me, maybe that from the way he phrased it, as if I was a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. From the inner pocket of his suit jacket, Coulson pulled out a plain envelope and slid it towards me.
At my confusion as I picked it up, he explained it was my birth certificate.
Not only did my eyes widen at having this piece of my past, possibly the one one I had left, but Pepper and Clint slowed with their eating and watched as Phil continued to speak. He told me that it was about the only thing he could do for me since there wasn't much left back at my old home.
"It's fine," I assured him finally, although I clutched the paper close to my chest after I put it back into the envelope. "What else? Because I know this wasn't it."
Now, Phil cleared his throat. "I understand any reluctance, but we are going to need to take some samples-" I blanched, and he hurried on, "because we do need to know how these powers of yours formed, and study them."
"No, no, no," I repeated, shaking my head frantically. Blue tinged the edges of my visions "No more needles, please."
A hand gently clasped on my shoulder, and the blue gradually began to fade as my breathing slowed. "Relax, kid, I'll swing by Headquarters with you, and we'll be out of there in no time," assured Clint. "Besides, you have got to start getting back out there, and this might help. Maybe get some sun since you haven't gone out since you got here."
Sensing I didn't have much of a choice, I figured it would just be easier to agree. However, before we could continue eating, Coulson admitted, "We also need to ask you some questions. Since you might not be comfortable talking about it, I would suggest we wait, but my boss, on the other hand, would rather we get it done sooner than later."
Lunch was quite quiet after that. Not a yes, yet not a no either. If anyone noticed how I started closing myself off again, it was Clint, as he took me to the side later and made sure I know that while he didn't like ruining my good mood, it was best to know where I stood and that I wasn't getting off the hook about this.
It was just after five in the evening when Clint, Natasha, and Steve's phones all went off at the same time.
I was on the couch, sitting on the wide arm of it, my feet pulled up to my chest and my Hawkeye socks showing for all to see as I watched yet a rerun of the Supernatural pilot episode. Tony had introduced me to popcorn last night, and now it seemed I couldn't get enough of it as I held the large bowl in front of me. Clint was laughing so hard at his own jokes he was wheezing, while Steve chuckled softly with him and Natasha shook her head fondly. But the instant their phones went off, all the amusement drained from them.
I froze and gulped at the sudden change, dread filling my stomach when they both answered at the same time, turning their backs to each other to pay attention to whoever was on the other side of the line.
There were grunts and hums of agreement from Nat and Clint-Steve being the only one speaking full sentences back, but the anxiousness building up in my head suddenly made me unable to focus on what was being said, the words and thoughts around me from everybody blurring together like static on a radio until I couldn't tell which was which or even pick out one from the other. One by one they each hung up and faced each other once more.
Their mouths moved, but it buzzed in and out, the static still there, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to get the right frequency. I clasped my hands over my ears, trying to filter it all out. After an eternity, it finally began to settle down and clear, sound returning to the world.
"Did you hear me?"
"Huh?" I asked, looking up.
"We're being called in. Do you think you'll be okay?" Steve asked again, eyeing me. Once I slowly nodded, albeit reluctantly, he turned to face Natasha and Clint. "Suit up. The jet will be here in eight minutes."
Nat nodded, face stoic as she turned and strode towards the elevator, Steve hesitantly following while watching my face. Clint, however, sighed before crouching to my level on the couch.
"The Avengers are being assembled," he told me.
"But that's a bad thing isn't it?" I retorted, setting my bowl aside. "I mean, it must be if they're calling in a team of superheroes, right?
"Not too much," he assured me. "Just another bad guy who thinks he's far more superior than his fellow humans, but, well, he's causing a lot of trouble that they can't handle on their own. You won't be alone, though, Pepper's going to be around to keep company. Are you okay with that?"
This was the first time the Avengers were being assembled since my arrival, and I wasn't sure what exactly to feel. But before I could answer, the elevator dings and Pepper strode out just as Steve and Natasha step in. "Agent Barton," Steve called, every bit of his authority present in his voice.
As if on instinct, Clint straightened up, Pepper waving him off as she unbuttoned her work blazer. "Go. Hurry. I'll stay here with Ezra."
With a nod and one last look at me, Clint practically sprinted off to the elevator that he barely managed to squeeze into through the closing doors. I watched as they disappeared from view before glancing up at a tired yet shaken Pepper who's slipping out of her blazer and toeing off black high heels.
Leaving herself in a black pencil skirt, and a black and white striped long-sleeved shirt, Pepper gave me a shaky smile. "Sorry if this makes you a bit nervous," she sighed, "but I always get fidgety whenever Tony gets called out."
"Understandable." I shrugged, picking back up my bowl of popcorn.
She gestured to the TV and the show I was watching. "Do you mind if I-" And with me giving a quick shake of my head, wanting to see for myself, she turned back to the TV. "J.A.R.V.I.S., find me a news station that's broadcasting the chaos in Northeastern Philadelphia."
As J.A.R.V.I.S. searched for the right channel, Pepper took a seat on the opposite end of the couch and tucked her legs beneath her. Sympathetic to her anxiety, I did something I had yet to do for anyone, and extended my bowl to her. She flashed me a quick glance, but then dipped her hand in and took a fistful. Once J.A.R.V.I.S found a news station, the supposed mad genius cackling on screen like a lunatic atop the roof of a small corner store while dozens of humanoid robots rip apart vehicles, smash glass windows and doors to business shops lining the streets.
"I might have grown up somewhere where we may not be 'up to date' as you Americans say, but that is the most cliche villain I have ever seen," I snickered despite the seriousness of the situation. Normally, I could respect someone with brains, but there was no way anyone could respect this type of mad man. I thought I'd be scared because of all the 'mad scientists' as Tony described them once that I'd dealt with in the past year, but faced with this man in real life, I probably would have died laughing. His billowing white lab coat looked like he'd fished it out of a bag of old halloween costumes, his salt-n-pepper streaked hair sticking up at odds and ends.
As the chaos went on and we watched the robots wreak havoc - at least they weren't targeting any actual people- the elevator dings and the Avengers step out all suited up. Well, everybody except Bruce, because the Hulk didn't exactly need a suit to smash. And though I've come to know the Steve was Captain America and Tony was Iron Man, and that Nat and Clint were spies and assassins, it was another to actually see it in person.
"Alright." Tony sauntered up to Pepper and his face plate slid up to plant a kiss on her cheek. "We should be back by dinner. Take care of the kid while we're gone."
I shot him a glare and threw a handful of popcorn in his face, but by then his smirk was already hidden by his face plate once more and Steve was calling for him to hurry it up. "Are you sure I can't help?" I couldn't help asking, turning around and resting my arms across the top of the couch. It wasn't as if I was helpless. Not to mention I was practicing more, and I was getting a better hold of these powers where they didn't react so quick to my emotions.
"Trust me, they can handle this on their own," Pepper told me, gently reaching across to touch my arm. With a huff, I plopped myself back down, blowing my hair out of my eyes.
Within minutes they were gone, off to be loaded into the jet, I think, and even though Pepper explained to me S.H.I.E.L.D. jets were faster than the average government ones, I was still shocked to see them show up on TV only minutes later, in almost the same amount of time I might have run there. But just as everyone dropped in on the streets, my stomach clenched as the supposedly harmless-to-human robots turned from their senseless chaos and targeted each of the Avengers. And that wasn't enough, more were showing up, outnumbering the team greatly and no bullets seemed to be able to damage the robots one bit.
"It's okay...It's okay...they've taken on worse," Pepper murmured, but I suspected it was less for my reassurance as it was for herself so I didn't say anything. Still, watching the Avengers in action and listening to the reporter's commentary wasn't making me feel any better.
Natasha had already emptied out her guns, instead choosing to slip between overturned vehicles and pressing her fist into the crook of the robot's neck. And when the cameraman zoomed in on one of the robots falling with Natasha's thighs clamped around its neck, Pepper fistpumped the air.
"Widow's bite," she explained at the weird look I sent her. "They were her weapon of choice when taking down enemies, but when super powered beings began making an appearance, Tony upped the voltage."
I hummed in acknowledgement, part of me immediately intent on studying them once they came back, bringing my thumb up to my mouth to chew on the nail. Searching through the crowd and destruction, I saw Clint from the rooftops, shooting arrow after arrow that exploded or electrified robots on contact.
"Where are they even coming from?" I exclaimed.
Robots were jumping left and right onto the Hulk, which now that I was seeing for myself, was hard to believe was the Bruce Banner I saw practically stumbling about for coffee in the morning. However, I grinned when the camera zoomed in on him-and laughed out loud when the Hulk actually looked offended at the robots crawling all over him before flicking them off.
Iron Man flew around and fired his repulsors, and Steve was throwing his iconic red, white, and blue shield around like a frisbee, but it was no use. There were just too many.
Twenty more minutes into the fight and commentary, I decided to head up to my floor to grab something, or at least that's what I told Pepper. Instead it was more to check up on someone. So far I hadn't seen him for two days, and though that wasn't an unusual occurrence, I tried to remember that though we were both recovering, he was worse off than I was. I had only been there for a year; he had been there for around seventy. All those years of programming and torture, and he was now doing more than just fighting off memories of everything he'd done; he was trying to regain his identity and past personality as Bucky Barnes while fighting off HYDRA's conditioning that transformed him into the Winter Soldier.
And I can tell he still fears hearing the trigger words implanted in his brain. The words that could undo all his progress and turn him back into the assassin he was made. I've been trying to practice the extent of my abilities and help him out in the same time; after all, I'd unlocked most of his memories by going into his mind, so it was worth the shot to see if by doing it again, I could erase them. Bucky agreed almost right away when I offered, even after I warned him it would take some experimenting first since a person's mind was different than a machine, more delicate for one, but the same rules still applied: One wrong move could do more harm than good.
Despite knowing that and how careful I had to be, experimenting with them and seeing how strong they were gave me a rush. It was a rare moment where I found my powers could help rather than destroy or hurt, even if I couldn't figure out how to do it just yet.
Finding him was easy. He was still in his room, same as always, except this time the door was unlocked, so that meant today was his better days. Still, I knocked. When I heard the muffled words, "Come in," I stepped inside the room.
"Well, unless your schedule is packed with 'holding your own pity party' as you Americans say," I sighed with my arms crossed, watching him sitting on the bed, "I thought you should know that the Avengers are fighting off robots. Do you want to come down to watch with us?"
To my surprise, he gave a quiet, wry chuckle. "The punk's gotten into another fight," he said, and for a moment I thought he'd say yes if only to check if his old friend from the 1940s was holding up, but then he shook his head. "It's safer for everybody else when I'm up here."
"I guess so. But if we're gonna go on about what could be dangerous, so is a dog, or a cat, or a duck or a chipmunk —don't let those cute faces fool you, a volunteer back home got a finger chewed off—"
"Sounds like you."
I went on as if I hadn't heard him. "—and so is almost everything else, and I could probably handle it, so don't think you're special in that department," I shrugged, noting the faint ghost of a smile forming. "But either way, you'll get better. I know you will—please just accept it for now so I don't have to say anything else too sappy." When he didn't say anything, I climbed up onto the bed and rested my head on his metal shoulder covered with a long-sleeved shirt-I could tell with the soft clank it made. "Please? If something bad happens, I don't want to have to come all the way up here again and retell the whole thing. I'll give you half my bowl of popcorn!"
And ten more minutes of pleading and one "I swear you'd think your power was annoyance," and Bucky was out of his room and in the communal floor, although taking up as little space as possible. Once I caught the confused look on Pepper's face, I simply said, "He's out of bed; it's a miracle!"
Just as we settled in to watch the fight, the sky darkened with lightning flashing in the background, and Pepper sighed out, "Finally."
I had no idea why Pepper was relieved, not until I began to feel relieved myself when numerous lightning bolts were caught on camera striking down a herd of bots. A man with blonde hair and a red cape lands with a glare and hammer held tight in hand.
"Who's that?" I asked.
"I'm going out a limb here to say Thor just joined the fight," Bucky answered.
"But you only have three limbs left—"
"Ezra!"
"He does! I'm stating a fact!"
Pepper only gave an exasperated yet amused sigh in return that said all on its own, 'oh, what am I to do with you?' Ah, the infamous sigh she seems to reserve only for Tony.
Too engrossed with the fight, I didn't notice it at first. Once I saw a glint of metal, I thought it was a robot. But when I averted my gaze to almost anything else on screen when the sight of the violence was suddenly making it hard to breathe, I saw something or rather someone? And you know how it is, once you notice something once, it's suddenly all you can notice. Even anytime the camera changed angles, I couldn't help looking for it.
A teenage boy with a black hood over his head, trying to hide, probably trying to run first but couldn't find any other way amidst the swarm or robots. Still, even while he was avoiding the cameras to the best of his ability, I could see something was different about him, and familiar... Small shards of steel seemed fused to his skin in places on his face.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.." I tested the word on my tongue, not quite used to sometimes hearing a robot voice pop out of nowhere. "Could you pause the video? Please and thank you." The screen froze, though the commentary went on in the background, and I brought my thumb up to nibble on the nail. I squinted at the TV, seeing the boy in the left corner.
"What's wrong? We can watch something else if its too much," Pepper asked, concerned.
"Could you zoom in on the bottom left corner of the screen, J.A.R.V.I.S.? Please and thank you," I said instead of answering.
"Of course," the AI stated. "Will that be all?"
"One minute, please."
I stared at the face, and noted his features. Was it... My eyes widened and I jumped up into a standing position on the couch and began shaking and pulling Bucky's flesh arm excitedly. "It's Twitch! It's Twitch! He's alive! He got out! He got out! I can't believe it!" I shouted.