I didn't dream last night.
I really only got a few hours sleep, but I didn't dream.
Thank God.
If only I could never dream again.
I pull my knees to my chest on the black leather desk chair in Tony's office, watching Bucky walk over and place a coffee in front of me as I bite down a yawn.
"Thanks, babe."
I need to talk with Fury about the files, and while I didn't want to do it alone, I also didn't want to do it with the entire team, so Steve and Tony lean against a shelving unit beside the desk while Bucky sits next to me.
We're quiet as five tiles with faces appear on a large screen, but only Fury's in the center is familiar.
"Good morning, L/N. I'm sorry to surprise you like this. After review of all notes and surveillance, I needed to involve the World Security Council. Your role at the facility involved the harm of non-American citizens, and therefore is of international concern," Fury explains.
As I look between the two men and women and nod, fingers knotting against my chest.
They introduce themselves, but their names barely register—I think one's called Williams, another Ojeda, but I'm not certain.
"We will be going through the points of interest of the notes found on you as well as the..." the woman on the right drones on, but I no longer hear her words.
Points of interest.
I just nod absently, wanting to get through this without a breakdown.
Fury begins speaking and I snap myself back into focus, listening as he walks us through the different drugs tested on me.
Strength, durability, stamina, healing.
All short-term enhancement.
All successful.
According to Fury, they found samples of the drugs as well as the notes on how they were created during the raid of the facility, and they're hoping they are the only samples, and no one else knows how to make more.
That's wishful thinking though.
"The compound for increased healing was used on you multiple times throughout your stay, and they documented the healing process extensively," the woman on the right speaks again. My stomach drops as a series of bloody images appear on the screen; a time-lapse after what appears to be a particularly bad session with a whip.
Steve lets out a puff of air and I see Bucky's hand flexing where it rests on his lap.
"Is it necessary to show these?" Bucky asks, voice irritated.
"We need to be sure that Ms. L/N is aware of what is being discussed. For legal purposes," the other woman replies. "I'm sorry, I know these images are upsetting."
"She's seen them. Get them off the screen," Tony says gruffly.
The images shrink and the five faces reappear, and with a clenches jaw, Fury continues with the report, explaining the physical enhancements of the drugs given to me, as well as the super soldier serum. Images and videos demonstrating my abilities flash across the screen, and although I try, I can't remember doing any of it.
"You attacked guards and even Doctor Stadelhofer on various occasions, and there are notes saying you needed near-constant conditioning to be kept under control. They also had you on sedative drugs until you reached a point of compliance."
I smirk a little at that.
Good.
I gave them a hard time.
"After about three months, you stopped being a threat to staff and your training began."
My nails dig into my palms at that.
"The notes explain that you slowly made your way from fighting one patient, to two, to three and four, until you were capable of fighting and holding off their enhanced agents. It was always the same four patients, and it seems they were being dosed with the enhancement drugs."
Video after video of me fighting with patients and agents play on screen.
In some, I'm only using my physical abilities, in others, I beat them with my mental abilities.
I drop my gaze from the screen as I watch myself step towards a woman with a handful of fire.
Watch what you did.
I look back up as the woman backs into a corner cradling her arm.
"That's enough," Bucky bites out from beside me.
"You were recommended for missions by Doctor Holden just over two months ago. You demonstrated complete compliance," Fury says gravely. "I'm sorry for the next video."
The video of me, Stadelhofer, Holden, and the man—Elbert—appears. I flinch as the whip cracks against my back, and although the video is muted, I can hear the sound of the man's screams.
This wasn't training.
This was torture.
This was them testing to see how far I would go.
"Stop the damn videos," Bucky snaps, turning my chair away from the screen. His hands cup the sides of my face, brushing away tears.
"We need to make sure she is aware of the contents of the files," one of the men say.
"She's aware. Now if you know what's good for you, you'll turn them off," Bucky grinds out.
"Mr. Barnes is that a threat?"
I turn my head to the screen and see the man in the air, limbs spread apart. His body flies against the far wall, right between Stadelhofer and Holden before crumpling to the floor.
"Stop watching, doll. Don't watch," Bucky whispers, turning my head away.
From the corner of my eye, I see the video disappear.
"She has injured non-Americans; it is very possible that down the road there will be legal action and we cannot guarantee immunity. You need to know what stands against you," one of the women states.
I grip Bucky's wrists with shaky hands.
"Just breathe, Y/N," he whispers, and I suck in a breath, keeping my eyes on him.
"She was as much of a victim of all of this as they were," Tony states.
"But I still hurt them. It was still me," I say quietly. "Are they okay?"
Bucky's hands hesitantly drop away from my face as I turn back to the screen, but I slide my hand down to thread my fingers through his, holding onto him like a lifeline.
"Those four have not been located. It appears they were transferred from another base when you started your training and as a result of their physical... deterioration, they were scheduled to be replaced by a group of trained individuals better suited to the task sometime in the coming months. We have no idea where they were sent or their status, but the last notes on their files were that they were alive and well enough to be moved," Fury explains, and while it's not good, I'm glad to hear that they're alive.
"That was organized by Holden, who wanted you to become a specialized agent, however, Stadelhofer didn't agree and wanted to focus instead on using you to create more enhanced individuals. Their Director—whose identity is unknown by any of the personnel from Arizona—approved her proposal to move forward with her experiment, so conditioning was dialed back in preparation for A.I. That may be why you regained control of yourself. As for the eggs that were taken, we found notes from a... Doctor Beaumont stating that of the fourteen removed, only eight were viable for fertilization. Stadelhofer said they were sent to an undisclosed location the morning you escaped, along with your DNA and stem cell samples. That was the only egg removal procedure performed, and we believe they are in the possession of Holden and possibly the three agents and six lab techs that are still MIA."
I nod. "And what happens now?"
"Well, my team is still going through the remaining files and notes from the facility, but so far this is the only information that concerns you. These notes align with the information pulled from the staff, agents, and Stadelhofer, so we don't think there is much else to learn about your imprisonment—other than exact details around Holden's role. As Councilwoman Nguyễn stated, it is possible there will be legal recourse; if that were to happen, S.H.I.E.L.D. would protect you to the best of its ability," Fury says before clearing his throat. "There is, however, the matter of your conditioning. Considering your lack of memory of what happened, the Council and I are uncomfortable with the possibility of you slipping back into the state you were in at the facility. In anticipation of that, I have agreed with the Council to send in extra security to the Compound. Until they are satisfied that there is no threat against you from Hydra, and that you do not pose a threat to others, the area and you will be monitored."
"I think there's already enough security on-site, in addition to the house full of superheroes that could manage whatever imaginary threat you think she poses," Tony grunts, pushing off the shelving unit and bracing his fists on the desk.
"She was being trained to take down multiple super soldiers at once, has telekinetic abilities, and is now a super soldier herself. We don't wish to test her ability to take you all down and run the risk of hurting others," Nguyễn states firmly.
"Send in more security." I nod.
"Y/N," Tony starts.
"No. They're right. I don't want to hurt anyone. Extra security is a good idea."
"There is something else," one of the men say, and I feel like curling into myself.
Can't we be finished yet?
"We are aware that Ms. Maximoff is capable of looking through people's thoughts and memories; and considering there is a high probability that the conditioning you went through will continue to affect you, we want to know the extent of its hold over your mind. Whether something could trigger you back into a Hydra-complicit... individual, or whether you are safe to be around."
Oh.
"In other words, have her find anything within your memories that would create a threat."
"What would that do? Other than force her to relive those things?" Bucky bites.
"It would give us an idea of whether we should be isolating her," he asserts. "We have a general understanding of Stadelhofer's conditioning methods, but we don't know how it continues to affect Ms. L/N. There is a possibility she could revert to that state, either after a period of time or because of stimuli, and we don't need to risk that happening. If Maximoff goes through her mind, we would know how much remains, and how to proceed to keep people safe."
I can feel the blood draining at the thought of those memories.
Will I have to relive them like Bucky said?
I clench my jaw, trying to keep my breathing even; to not show how much the thought scares me. "Okay," I whisper, but Tony's speaks up.
"We'll think about it."
But I don't really have a choice, do I?
They're going to make me do it anyways.
"Good. Let us know when you will be doing it. We can wrap up this meeting then—Fury, we expect weekly updates," Nguyễn nods.
"Of course. Goodbye," Fury says curtly.
The four unfamiliar faces disappear, and Fury's fills the screen.
"What the hell was that Fury?!" Tony shouts.
"I didn't have a choice in involving them. This is international affairs."
"A warning would have been nice. And making her watch those videos? Then the Wanda thing? God!" Steve hisses.
"It's fine, guys."
Just breathe.
"It's not fine. He shouldn't have let them do that," Steve says to me before turning to the screen. "You completely blindsided her. You shouldn't have made her watch those videos now, and you shouldn't have sent them to her last night. You have no idea what she went through, only for you to pull this," he points at Fury.
I focus my attention on Bucky's thumb brushing against my knuckles.
"As the Councilmembers said, she needed to be made aware of what was in those files. It was a legal obligation. And I'm sorry, Y/N. I know what was in those videos and notes was bad, but I didn't have a choice. I don't hold power over the World Security Council, so I couldn't stop them from showing those videos," Fury sighs. "I had to send the files for the same reason. And as for Maximoff going through her memories, it's for the best. It's one of the only ways we'll know whether there is something there."
I nod.
"When should we expect the next round of guards?" Tony grumbles, ignoring Fury's last comment completely.
"Tomorrow afternoon. We're doubling bodies. They will be doing rounds to the Compound every few hours to check in, then sending me updates."
Tony scoffs and shakes his head before Fury continues with a tone of annoyance.
"It was either this, or she was taken to Europe to stay at a facility there. Trust me, I'm trying to make this as easy as it can be," Fury says.
Tony rubs a hand down his face and guilt pools in my stomach.
"I'm sorry guys. This is your home. And now it's being filled with security officers because of me," I mutter.
"This isn't your fault," Steve says quietly.
"And this is your home too," Bucky adds.
I smile weakly at that.
"Thanks for all the help, Fury. We're going now. Brunch with the team," Tony says sarcastically before reaching over and hanging up. He turns and leans against the desk, hand pressed against his mouth in thought.
I let out a shuddering breath and reach for my mug, finally taking a sip. It's grossly cold, so I begin warming the liquid, not stopping until it's steaming.
Thank God that's over.
My mind races over everything.
The tests. The fighting. Everything I thought was just nightmares.
It was real.
And now...
"If Wanda goes through my mind, am I going to remember it?" I ask quietly.
Steve lets out a quiet sigh. "We'll have to talk to Wanda. Maybe there's some way she can go through without making you relive it."
So that's a yes.
I try to ignore the alarms through my body and take another sip of coffee.
"We're finding that doctor. We're finding them all, and bringing them in, and they'll rot on the Raft for what they did," Tony grits, bringing my attention back to the room.
"We could always do it off the books. They don't need to go to the Raft," Bucky mumbles.
I raise an eye brow at him. "We're not killing them, Mr. Terminator. If we find them, they go to prison," I huff a half-hearted laugh.
"No one has to know," Steve shrugs.
"I know where we can hide a body," Tony adds.
I smile and shake my head. "Y'all are unbelievable."
Bucky shrugs and squeezes my hand. "Let's get something to eat," he says, standing up.
The four of us make our way from the office and through the halls to the common area, finding Peter at the island.
"Morning, how'd the call go?" Peter asks, phone propped in front of him with a hand in a bowl of dry Froot Loops.
"As good as it could go," I say tiredly. "We're getting more security."
"What? Why?"
"I'm a threat and the Council of the World think's I'm gonna go batshit and revert back to a Hydra attack dog... I can't really blame them though," I joke, trying to force the knot out of my stomach.
"It won't be for long," Bucky reassures, pressing a kiss to the side of my head before walking behind the island. "Eggs and hash browns sound okay?"
I nod before pushing onto one of the stools next to Peter.
He turns the volume down before leaning his head over to me. "I-I heard what happened last night. I'm sorry. You're not a bad person, you were hurt by them," he whispers.
"Thank you, Peter. Sorry I woke you up, it was a hard night," I smile apologetically at him.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
I shake my head. "It's been a hard morning too. Everything is technically okay, but I just want to have a normal day... not think about it."
"Okay, but if you ever do wanna talk, I'm here."
"Thanks Peter," I smile. "What are you watching?" I ask, nodding to his phone.
"Twitch stream. It's a play-through of this new horror video game. It's called Cold Death—there's been a zombie apocalypse, and the player has to fight through zombies and reach the top of a mountain where there's a refuge. This girl's been playing for 7 hours and is about to finish the game and hasn't respawned once," he points to his phone.
"Sounds intense," I mumble, looking at the screen to see the character walking through a dark ghost-town covered by a heavy blanket of snow.
"It is. She's killing it though," he says shoving a handful of Froot Loops into his mouth.
"Not this song again," Tony grumbles from behind us.
I smile as I mumble along to Location by Khalid.
"You know he made this playlist for you," Peter whispers, eyes darting from me to Bucky.
I nod and smile into my coffee.
"He said he made it for when you came back, but he always has it playing."
'I went through your music and found some songs that reminded me of you.'
'This song feels like you.'
"I love this playlist," I murmur, watching Bucky chop an onion and chat to Steve.
⁂
"So, what are you gonna do for your normal day?" Peter asks, chugging the last of his coffee.
"Hmm, I don't know... But I think I need something to relax," I chuckle a little.
"You like art stuff right? Why don't we do some art?" Peter suggests.
He wants to do something together.
Ugh, he's so sweet.
I nod and smile. "That sounds perfect."
"Oh! We should watch a Bob Ross video! We did that in one of my art classes before and it was hilarious because no one could keep up with him and everyone's paintings ended up being completely different from what it was supposed to look like," Peter laughs.
"Let's do it. Wanna help me grab my art supplies?" I nod to the stairs.
"Yah sure. You guys gonna join?" Peter asks as he jumps off his stool.
"I might just watch, haven't tested my art skills in a long time," Bucky grimaces.
"Come on, I remember you being Mrs. Green's favorite student in art class," Steve laughs.
"You know she only liked me because I brought her my mom's shortbread. You were her favorite," Bucky replies.
"You're right. I was," Steve says proudly. "I'll join you two. We'll see how rusty I've gotten."
"Tony?" I ask.
"I'm good. I left arts and crafts in Kindergarten," Tony says sarcastically.
I slide off the stool and raise an eyebrow. "You had the same attitude about Avatar," I say pointedly, "but fine. You're the one that's gonna miss out," I call over my shoulder as we make our way out of the kitchen.
We get up the stairs and into my room where I grab the tub full of acrylic paint from beside the desk, before grabbing my cup of brushes and placing them on top. "I have a few canvases somewhere..." I mutter, opening up the cupboard of the desk. I find them tucked under one of my sketchbooks and pull three out.
"That's everything, yah?" Peter asks excitedly, grabbing the box off the desk and turning to the door. I nod and pull the cup of brushes off the box as it wobbles from his quick movements, shaking my head as I follow behind the teenager.
When we get downstairs, we move the coffee table from in front of the tv and set all the supplies down.
"Which video do you want to do?" Peter asks, scrolling through a YouTube playlist of Bob's videos.
"Choose whichever you want, I should have enough colors for any of them," I call from the kitchen.
Finally, I find the stack of paper plates I spotted forever ago in a bottom cupboard and pull them out, sending them to where Peter sits, before picking up two of the plastic cups filled with water and mentally grabbing the third.
"So, who's Bob Ross? Some kind of modern Van Gogh?" Steve asks, as I take a seat beside him. It's a little strange to see him sitting crossed-legged on the ground in front of a bunch of paints, but also kind of comforting.
I laugh as Peter shakes his head. "Um, no—well... No. He's an artists who did these kind of tutorials for paintings, but he's super positive, and like, supportive," he explains stiltedly.
Steve opens his mouth before closing it and giving Peter a confused look. "Supportive?"
"You'll understand when we watch, don't worry," I smile.
Bucky makes his way over and sits on the loveseat behind us, while Tony calls out that he's going to work in his lab for a bit.
Peter presses play and we begin our work.
⁂
After some screaming, we agree to pause the video rather than trying to rush to keep up, meaning it's taken almost an hour to get through twenty minutes of instructions.
"Mine looks like a circus elephant," Peter mumbles, holding his canvas up and looking between it and the tv.
"I told you not to choose those colors," I chuckle. "You should have stuck to the one's he said."
"The colors he chose were boring!"
"And now you have a circus elephant."
It really does look like an elephant.
How?
"Yours is looking good, Steve," I say, looking down to his painting. His skills are definitely not rusty.
"Thanks, Y/N, so does yours. I didn't know you were so good, did you take lessons?"
"I'm not that good," I laugh, "but thanks. And no, just something I always loved doing," I explain.
"You should see her sketches. They're amazing," Bucky says from behind me.
I turn and see him smiling gently down to me, and I can't help but smile back with a shake of my head before turning and trying to focus to keep up.
After another 15 minutes, Bob takes a step back from his canvas and smiles at the camera.
"Alright, last step. Sign that rascal. I hope you enjoyed and join us next week for the Joy of Painting. Take a moment to appreciate your work. Be proud of it... Until next time."
I add a few more details before dropping my brush into my cup.
Footsteps sound behind us and Tony walks in. "Wow," he says, looking wide-eyed at Peter's canvas. "Did you guys follow the same video?"
"I took some artistic liberty to make mine unique," Peter defends.
"I think it's great," I smile at Peter.
"Thank you, Y/N," he says pointedly before looking back to his painting and grimacing a little. "Just a little... abstract."
"I think we all did a pretty good job," Steve nods proudly.
We clean up space in front of the tv before propping our canvases against the wall to dry.
"Let's put a movie on! How about another scary one?" Peter asks.
"Yes," I agree immediately.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and send a message to the group, watching expectantly as Tony checks his phone and sends me a glare. I smile smugly and head into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of popcorn and placing it into the microwave before pulling bowls down, turning when I hear Wanda speak up behind me.
"What are we watching today?"
"Hey, I'm not sure, another scary movie I think," I shrug.
The microwave beeps and she nods before making her way around the island.
"You doing okay? I know something happened last night, but the guys wouldn't say anything..."
I send her a small smile and nod. "I found out what happened at the facility," I sigh. "I hurt people... Those nightmares I was having were more like memories, and when I found out last night I kind of just shut down," I explain.
She nods. "How are you feeling today?"
"A little better now. I had a meeting this morning with Fury and the World Council of Safety or whatever, and they went over everything that happened, what they did to me, what I did to them..." I say.
The Councilman's words echo through my mind and I contemplate asking her about looking through my memories.
No.
I don't want to remember.
Not yet.
I'll do it, just not yet.
"The Council is sending in more security. They feel that I'm a threat, and I honestly don't disagree... Considering I couldn't even look at anyone the other day, and that I can barely remember anything, I rather be monitored, just in case... I don't want to risk hurting anyone."
"You know it's not your fault, right?"
"I mean I know that I didn't do it consciously, and would never want to hurt someone, but I still did it. My abilities were used to hurt people, and that was my biggest fear..."
She nods. "I understand. It's mine too. I think a lot about the fact that it was Hydra who gave me my abilities in order to push an oppressive regime. And that there was a time where I thought they were right to do what they did. And about the things I've done that led to innocent people's deaths. It's hard, but it's one of the risks of being the way we are. Our abilities won't go away. They are a part of us that we need to deal with. Don't be afraid of them, okay? I know we're different, but I know what you're going through. I'm always here if you need me," she nods, eyes showing nothing but support and care.
I immediately wrap my arms around her, squeeze my eyes shut as her words ring through my mind over and over.
No crying.
"Thank you, Wanda. That means a lot."
"Of course," she whispers back before letting me go when the microwave beeps. She throws another bag in while I empty the popped one into a bowl.
Natasha comes through and says hi before heading to the couches, followed by Sam and Rhodey, who snag a bowl of popcorn before I notice.
"There you are, darling," Wanda smiles as Vision walks in.
"Hello, love. What are we watching?"
"Another horror movie, I think Peter's putting on Insidious," I reply eyeing the tv while emptying a new bag into a bowl.
"Right, well, I guess we'll see if this one scares me..." Vis smiles a little before heading out of the kitchen.
"Does anything scare him?" I laugh.
"I don't think it's possible to scare him," she giggles.
Once all the popcorn is finished, we make our way to the living room and hand off the bowls.
"Come here, doll," Bucky mutters from the loveseat, grabbing onto my waist gently and tugging me back.
"Careful, the popcorn," I giggle, holding it away from us as he pulls me into his lap. I tuck myself in the space beside him before laying my legs across his lap and over the arm of the chair. His right arm wraps around my waist and I find his other on my lap, threading my fingers through his. He looks over to me and squeezes my hand as if asking if I'm okay. I smile a little and squeeze back, settling in further and turning to the tv.
⁂
Over dinner I explained to everyone what happened last night and about the meeting this morning. Thankfully, they weren't all pity-eyed, and while they were annoyed at having extra security coming, they weren't annoyed at me.
They seem to be on the same wave-length as Tony in thinking I'm not a threat, but I'm comforted knowing that there will be extra eyes watching me.
Just in case.
But that's the last thing on my mind right now.
Right now, Bucky is laid on his back across the middle of my bed, finishing the book from yesterday, and I sit against the headboard, sketching him. His playlist plays over my speakers, and I smile every time I hear him hum along. It's a mix of music from all decades and styles, so right now, Etta James' Sunday Kind of Love plays.
Songs that reminded me of you.
I watch his eyes scan the words of the book, and notice how his mouth twitches in reaction to whatever he reads. His left hand holds the book above him while his right traces shapes across my thigh absentmindedly, only stopping momentarily to flip the page.
I've noticed we do that.
That we are constantly touching each other. Whether it's playing with the others hair, or holding hands, there's almost always some type of contact.
I've never been a touchy person. Never one to cuddle or play footsies.
But with him...
It's like a reminder that I'm safe.
That he's here.
It's strange how much comfort I get from a brush of his hand.
How much comfort I get from him.
God, what has he done to me?
He drops the book onto his side and looks to me. "You're staring again."
"I'm sketching, I need to look at you," I reason.
"Doll, you haven't put pencil to paper in the last five minutes."
I glare at him and look at my paper. I have an outline and general shapes but nothing else.
It's actually been more like fifteen.
"I'm thinking," I say, looking back to him.
"Of what?"
I slide my sketchbook and pencil off my lap. "You."
"Oh? What about me?" he smirks.
I lean over and brush some of his hair back. "Just you," I whisper, leaning down and pressing my lips against his gently. "I appreciate everything you've done for me... You've done so much."
"I could have done more..."
I know the end of that sentence.
To bring you back.
I shake my head and throw my leg over his, straddling him. His eyes widen a little as I brace my arms on either side of his head. "You've done more than you'll know. You were a friend when I needed one. You let me open up in ways I never have before. You became my support. And you do these things, like bring me coffee, or making this playlist, and they seem small—but it means so much. You know what I need when I need it. When to make me laugh, or when to just sit with me. You know me... You're my person," I add quietly, fingers gripping the bedding.
When I first came here, I questioned why I had such a quick connection with him. Whether it was because he was the first person I was ever really friends with, or if there was a genuine connection.
I know now.
"Your person?" His mouth quirks, trailing his fingertips up my thighs.
"Mhmm, my person," I bite my lip. "I love you."
"What?" he smiles a little.
"I love you," I repeat. "For so many reasons, I love you."
His hand wraps around the back of my neck and pulls me down, pressing a kiss to my lips. "I love you too, Y/N," he kisses me again. "And I'm going to find a million more ways to show you. Just you wait."
I crash my lips into his again as one of his hands tangles into my hair while the other pulls me flush against him.
"I love you," he mumbles against my lips. He trails kisses to the corner of my mouth, then to my jaw, then to my neck before flipping us over. "I love you," kiss, "I love you," kiss, "I love you," he says, breath tickling my skin, and I can't help the giggle from escaping my lips. "And now I can say you're my girlfriend. Or partner. Or whatever we want to call ourselves. But I'm yours and you're mine, yah?" he asks, looking down at me.
I nod happily. "I'm yours, and you're mine," I whisper back before meeting his lips once again.
Bucky pulls away a few moments later and drops beside me, pulling me to cuddle into his side.
"Where are you now?" I whisper laying my head on his chest. He chuckles and grabs the book from beside him.
"Runa and Ghavin are about to attack the city," he mumbles into my hair.
"That's a good part," I hum and scan the words.
Bucky's voice begins reading, bringing me back to one of my favorite stories.
"Runa gripped the cold hilt at her hip, thumb running over the cracked pommel now polished from age.
'That's the signal. We need to move. Now,' Ghavin grumbled, pushing up from his crouched position on the roofs edge.
'This better work. I have a lot on this plan of yours.'
Ghavin glared at the girl as if she insulted Boren the Great himself. 'You think I would risk my life if I thought the plan wouldn't work?' Ghavin bit.
She watched him with indifference, although her stomach was a twist of guilt. 'You're quick. I think you would run if something went wrong.'
'I have more honor than to run. I would have thought you knew that,' he seethed, stalking past her and dropping off the roof.
'It's better that you think I don't,' she whispered, not wasting another second before following the man she wished she could have shared a destiny with," Bucky reads, voice quiet beside my ear. I trace shapes against the shoulder I rest on, all worries gone as we sit and ignore the problems of the world.
How did I get so lucky?