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12: capes

     "I can't fly, so what's the point of the cape? So I can trip? That's never an attractive battle tactic." I mutter, lacing up combat boots.

Bucky was buckling his vest as he gave a chuckle. "Fly, little birdy."

I continued my rant. "'Amygdala? Yeah, the girl that trips on her own cape. I killed her.' Know how they killed me? Because I was busy hiking up the cape I tripped on. A cape I wouldn't have were it not for the need I have yet to discover."

Bucky continued laughing, pulling me into a hug from behind. "It goes down to your ankles. You'll be fine."

"Says you! You don't have a cape."

"Yes, but I do have an arm that's eighty pounds heaver than my normal arm. We both have uniform flaws." He corrected. "And I have no doubt, my love, that you are more than capable of infiltrating a base with a cape. You're a super soldier, show them what you can do."

I wriggled out of his hug and sighed. "I pee purple. That's what I can do."

It was six in the morning, we hadn't gotten any sleep. That day was our first assignment on the mission against Tony and the Accords and things I had already forgotten. We laid in bed in silence for a few hours, then took a walk around the farm, then Bucky sat me down and picked flowers to arrange in my hair. No sleep, too nervous. We hiked it back inside at five, I put the flowers in a vase by our bed, we drank coffee with Clint, and went to put on our uniforms.

Mine was all black with purple threading. Compression shirt, tactical pants, combat boots, and a long leather cloak with a massive hood and what I knew to be a cape but Bucky denied. No capes. Capes get you killed.

Steve and Clint worked together to quietly get our uniforms done. No one could know that I was working with SHIELD again, or that my whereabouts were even known. To most of them, I'm still with Hydra. To most of the world I am. Bucky's was done with the knowledge that he was found but not up for grabs, mine was done with his under persuasion and bribery. Closed mouths cost big money.

So I guess I should've been thankful. I was, really, but I was nervous. I still wasn't sure I had completely harnessed Her. I was worried I'd go off when I shouldn't or I wouldn't go off when I needed to. I was worried about the damage I would cause or the missteps I would take. My sanity may have returned ever so slightly, but my confidence had not. I was an officer in the US Army. I rescued Bucky from Hydra and killed a large sum of their men doing so. I was a respected soldier, and I was nervous that I'd turn purple when I needed to stay pink. Sneaky little soldiers can't be nervous, but they can be frustrated that their uniform isn't to their liking.

I buckled on my holster belt, then slid the handguns and magazines in. Hopefully I didn't have to use them.

There was a knock on the door, Bucky opened it for Clint and went back to trying his best to make his man bun look manly.

"We have to go." Clint informed Bucky, leaning against the door. He was in his uniform, arrows slung over his shoulder instead of across his back. "The funeral is almost over and they're leaving any minute. We have to be there before they are. Spy duties." He tried to wink to make it more light-hearted than it was.

Bucky's eyebrows knit together. He had only just remembered Agent Carter and she was already gone. And he'd missed it. He sighed and turned to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "I'll miss you, purple rain."

"I'll miss you, mysterious little boy." I responded, smiling.

"And I'll see you in a few days."

"And I'll see you in a few days."

"And you'll do great, and you'll kick some Cleveland butt."

"And you'll do great, and you'll beat Stark down because I have never ever liked him." I replied, causing him to smile.