1 | Saturday, May 23rd

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"So, this is where the super hero's hideout?" I mumble as we pull through a large gate, eyes scanning the long driveway that leads to a series of huge buildings.

"Yes," Director Fury says as he looks at me from the corner of his eye. "One of the only places actually equipped to handle you—and the safest place for you to learn more about your abilities," he repeats for what feels like the hundredth time.

"So you can keep an eye on me, you mean?"

"Hey. This setup keeps us both happy."

I roll my eyes as the car pulls to a stop in front of a pair of glass doors. "Hmm, yah, just what I've always wanted; to be locked up."

"Better than being in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility."

"I could have been left alone," I counter, stepping out of the S.U.V. and pulling my bag onto my shoulder. It takes everything in me not to snap the keys into my hand and hightail it back to Chicago. Damn him and his super hero gang to my dirt.

But that can't happen. Not when they've already got their sights on me.

"You know that wasn't an option," Fury bites as he makes his way around the car to stand in front of me.

"But why not? I've never hurt anyone. I don't use my powers. I can—"

"Oh really? Then how did we find you?"

I grit my teeth and march around him. "Fine; I rarely use my powers. But I was helping people," I say pointedly, pulling the door open to step into the cool building.

His footsteps approach until he's walking beside me. "I know that, but the rest of the world doesn't. This is the best place for you to be monitored and learn."

He nods to the right and I let out a breath as I follow his direction to turn down the hall. "I know," I mumble after a few moments, "I just don't like being controlled. And this feels a lot like being controlled."

"Think of it as a work-study... with the perks of living like a billionaire."

"Yes, because designer sheets make up for being taken from my home."

He sends me an unamused look as we round another corner, but my attention is quickly pulled to Iron Man himself.

"You're looking good Nicholas—"

"Don't call me that—"

"And you must be Y/N. Nice to meet you, I'm the brawns of this operation; Tony Stark," he greets with a sarcastic-looking smile as he thrusts a hand my way.

"I am. And I noticed," I nod, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Of course you did. Now I'm sure you want to meet the super-secret boy band, don't you? Well... I guess we're not just boys, but that's not the point. Everyone's curious to see who could be so important for Fury to make a personal trip."

"I really don't think I'm that important, I think he's just a control freak," I mutter, too frustrated to be polite any longer.

From the corner of my eye, I see Fury squeeze the bridge of his nose and sigh, almost making me feel guilty for my comment.

Almost.

"I don't think so. Not about the control freak thing, you're on the nose with that one," Tony smirks, then points at me, "but, from what I've heard, you're definitely someone special." With that, he turns and walks back the way he came before waving a hand over his shoulder. "Come on; teams waiting."

The Compound, as it's called, is gorgeous, but impersonal. Glass, cement, and sleek floors make it seem more like an office building than a home, but I guess it is multi-purpose. I follow the two men and we eventually walk into what appears to be a rec space. It's a long open room, and closest to the entryway is a large table filled with nine familiar faces. Before we steer towards them, I spot a kitchen on the right and a tv tucked at the far end of the room situated in front of a wall of windows. I return my focus to the table and immediately, my skin crawls at the eyes focused on me.

Reaching Out | Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now