Secretive - Bucky Barnes

48 || Tomorrow

[Nova]
We find ourselves back in the living room. Sam and Steve already seated on the couch opposite to Natasha, Tony leaning in the door and Bruce and me behind Sam and Steve. James is the last one to join the group, keeping a safe distance to me. His mind is still roaming around my words, and with his arms crossed and glance fixed on his best friend, I know he sees reason in them.

Steve, for his part, seems above it all - surprisingly. Probably just building a wall around himself for protection, but why? I do not know what could be the reason. None of the team would ever call him about it, or make a big deal out of it. It probably are simply the still-remaining social standards roaring inside him.

Natasha herself looks like misery on two legs. Deep blue shadows below her eyes, them fuzzy and clouded. My inner hunter instinct tells me she would be easy prey, at least easier than ever, and I swallow it down with the unpleasant fist of inappropriacy clenching around my belly.

I hate it. I hate this part of the new abilities. My mind not wanting to, my body knowing it would be so damn easy to slit her throat, anyone's throat in here but James's. But this comes with the combination of Lilith and Nova, I guess. The problem is, it becomes more severe with every day passing, and I have no time finding out how to stop it.

Her red hair is a mess, and she leans on her hand, probably with one hell of a headache. »Someone up to tell me how we all ended up in here? And what Nova and James and Bruce are doing with us?«

»Nova's been taken by the German Government while we've been away for the murder of her parents – which she didn't commit. Since Bucky didn't hear anything from us, he decided meanwhile to go looking for us with Bruce on his side and came as fast as possible.« Tony explains matter-of-factly, his stern glance portraying not even a single doubt Natasha will be full in function at the latest, tomorrow. 

The Black Widow nods slowly, then, for the very first time, observes her whereabouts and the people within it. »How'd you find me? Last time I saw you, you've been dragged and punched yourself. They assured themselves no technique would find me in that wall.«

»In a wall?« Sam asks, tilting his head in disbelief before he turns around, facing me instead. His brown eyes speak of puzzlement, striking with their white frame.

I simply nod once, short, not in the mood to keep on elaborating. It is not my turn, and I am very far from a poser anyways. Murdering, my assassin-skills, my instincts, my power - it is nothing to be proud of. It is simply there, and it is used, that is it.

»Yes... They, well, wanted to make sure I definitely die. Knocked me out just so I would wake up shortly before they were ready. The concrete was so tight and thick, there was no going through. Plus, they put a bomb somewhere near; I could hear its beeping. So, if I had moved, I'd blow up everything. How'd you get me out? This has almost been impossible. Could you turn off the bomb from afar?«

Before anyone can speak further, I feel James snapping back to reality, his heavily worried side-glance resting on me. Without reciprocating and examining him, I know I am the next one of us being scolded by him for being as irresponsible as I have been. Guess this is somewhat a take and a give.

»Nova freed you, Natasha.« Steve states, voice as blank as I likely will never hear it again, leaning forward to support his head on his hands, elbows resting on his upper thighs.

»Nova?« Natasha asks, complete confusion written all over her face, and somehow, incredulity just as much.

One more time, I nod, the my hair tickling my collarbone.

»How? How'd you do it?« she proceeds, not the usual mock in her eyes but something rooted more deeply. Something less superficial, not looking at me from above.