I stand back and admire my work. I have successfully cleaned almost the entire compound- well, the living area, the kitchen, my room, Bucky's room (kind of), and took the basket of laundry in Sam's room to wash because I have no idea how he likes his things cleaned. The kitchen counters are spotless, the refrigerator is cleaned out, the dishes are done, and the trash has been taken out. Soft music plays from the A.I. system that I had no idea was there and had wholly shocked me when I called out 'Jarvis' to see what would happen. I've done all of my laundry, cleaned my suit, taken a shower, dried my hair, did a ridiculous twelve-step skincare routine, and not one of these many things has gotten my mind off of the two things that have been paralyzing me.
My father is still out there. I am a variant.
I shudder at both of the thoughts as I grab a mug from one of the cabinets. Being a variant means I'm predestined to live someone else's life with the same grief, the same losses, the same end goal. I squeeze my eyes shut and banish the thought from my brain to try and focus on something I can control; making this tea and finding my father. I tap my fingers on the counter as the kettle settles onto the stove. I had never been a particularly anxious person before. Still, now, there isn't a moment when my leg isn't bouncing, I'm not biting the inside of my cheek, I'm not hyperventilating at the thought of losing what I cherish the most in the world. I pull my phone from my pocket and send a quick text to Bucky in a moment of weakness.
'Hope you're being safe. Let me know if you find anything useful. x'
As if I was expecting a response right away, worry floods my chest when I see he hasn't even read the message yet. I scroll back to Sam's messages and decide to send him one as well.
'Please let me know that you guys are safe and text me if you need some backup.'
So, now I wait. My fingers tap against the marble of the island relentlessly, anxiously awaiting a response from either of them. The kettle whistles and I grimace at the sudden sound. I pour the water over a tea bag and sit in the silence of the empty compound. It's eerie how quiet it is. Usually, there are footsteps, and arguments are happening. There's at least some type of noise in the enormous building showing that some form of life lives here. The sun is setting over the trees, coloring the sky a gradient of yellow and pink that reflects through the kitchen window. I clear my throat. "Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" I call out, just now finding out I can ask an A.I. questions.
A small ping sounds above my head as I await a response. "Yes, Nadya?" She responds in an accent that I can't identify. It sounds a bit Scottish.
I grab my computer from the counter and take my tea into the living area. "Am I able to see footage of a member of the Avengers?" I ask, opening my laptop and taking a seat on the couch.
"Which one, may I ask?"
I chew on my lip, feeling the anxiety begin to brew inside of me. "Wanda Maximoff?"
It's quiet for a moment so I take a moment to sip my tea and warm my hands. My computer lights up, catching my eyes quickly as I set the mug down on the table. "Forwarding documents on Maximoff, Wanda to your computer," the voice echoes through the room as I search frantically through the files. My fingers freeze on the keyboard, seeing a file from Wanda's days in HYDRA. I, reluctantly, click on it and it expands. It's short, her description is brief with only a few key elements about her.
She was orphaned with a twin brother, she was marked as a success with the experiments HYDRA was conducting giving her the powers she has now. I close the file and scroll to the next one, my brows furrow at the contents. It's marked as an incident report; Lagos, Sokovia, and Wakanda.
Now, I guess Westview can be added to that list. I'm surprised at how similar we actually are to each other. Her family was killed, she wanted revenge, she joined the Avengers, her powers originate from some sort of witchcraft (according to Agnes), and HYDRA has a past with her. I sigh and close all of the files, thinking of anything else I could possibly do at this moment.
I pull my phone from my pocket and purse my lips when I see no new messages, no missed calls, nothing. Worry drops into my stomach like a brick, trying to go through every worst-case scenario there could be. "F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" I call out, biting my nails in anticipation.
"Yes, Nadya?"
"Do you have access to old HYDRA files?" I grip the handle of the mug, waiting for the answer.
"I have access to a few. What is the date of the file you're searching for?"
I grit my teeth and bring the mug closer to my chest, searching for warmth. "Mission report, December second, two-thousand and thirteen. And any news reports on the incident, if there are any." My eyes glue themselves to my computer as four files flood the screen. I decide to open the mission report file first, to end this chapter of my life and maybe find some sort of clue to where my father could be.
MISSION REPORT: DECEMBER 2, 2013.
TARGET ISSUED: Nadya Ivanov
TASKED: THE WINTER SOLDIER
ISSUED BY: Pavlov Ivanov (FATHER OF TARGET)
TARGET STATUS: MISSING
MISSION FAILED
CASUALTIES: Katrina Ivanov (35 y.o.), Andrei Ivanov (8 y.o.)
I close the file before any sort of grief can close in on my chest and cave it in. I shake my head and open the next file, a news report done the day after I left. I sip some of my tea as I read the headline.
"СЕМЬЯ НАЙДЕНА МЕРТВОЙ В ПРИГОРОДНОМ ДОМЕ. НИКАКИХ ПОДОЗРЕВАНИЙ НЕ НАЙДЕНО."
**"FAMILY FOUND DEAD IN SUBURBAN HOME. NO SUSPECTS WERE FOUND."**
I scroll through the brief article, it outlines the time of their deaths, their ages, and witness statements claiming they heard screaming. My breathing hitches when I come across the crime scene photos, seeing their faces locked in a silent scream, their lifeless eyes. Dead. Because of me. I hiss in pain as the mug shatters in my hand, spilling hot water all over my sweatpants and the handle of the glass cutting into my hand. "Damn it!" I whimper, pulling the small shard out of my palm.
My shaking hands come into my view, and blue waves mix with the blood seeping into my palm. I slam the laptop shut with my other hand and stomp into the kitchen. Muttering curse words under my breath, I grab a towel and a bandage. I inspect the cut on my hand, deeming that it doesn't need stitches. I run it under cold water, wincing at the sting it brings with it, and wrap the bandage around my palm tightly. I drag the towel into the living area and gather all the shards of glass carefully. I toss the shards into the trashcan and push out a slow breath.
No. I can't sit here and wait anymore. I jog back into the living area and grab my phone, seething at the empty messages. My worry begins to grow into anger. "F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Can you tell me where Sam and Bucky are?" I ask as I make my way back to the elevator.
"Sending locations to your phone, now."
Thank goodness I found out about F.R.I.D.A.Y.
✪✪✪✪
I see Sharon is just as flashy back in the states as she was back in Madripoor. I roll my eyes as I walk up the cobblestone walkway to the extravagant house. I stop before I reach the steps, listening for any other thoughts besides the ones I'm expecting. It's quiet. It's too quiet and that bothers me. I pull my phone from my pocket and call Bucky. I jog to the side of the house as the phone rings in my ear, anxiously awaiting for him to answer.
"Everything okay?" His smooth voice comes through, startling me. I come to a stop and let my breath out, relieved that he answered and he sounds more than fine.
"Yes," I answer, trying to gather my breathing. "What's going on? You guys have been gone for hours."
I hear Sharon's voice in the background and I grit my teeth. "She has access to satellites, we're trying to find the main base. I told you that earlier."
I roll my eyes to myself. "I have something I need to talk to you about-" I groan as I trip over a dip in the concrete lining the house, dropping my phone in the process. "Damn it!" I mumble, grabbing my phone and bringing it back up to my ear. "Sorry, I-"
"You're outside, aren't you?" He asks in a low voice and my eyes widen.
"What? No, I'm at the compound." I grit my teeth, knowing he won't believe me.
I hear him sigh and mumble something. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut when I hear the front door open. "Nadya, just come inside," his voice echoes through the phone.
"Okay," I mumble in a small voice and end the call. I walk back to the front of the house and see Bucky patiently waiting, leaning against the doorframe with a sly smirk on his face.
"Just couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He raises his eyebrows at me and I scowl.
"Shut up," I mumble, trying to keep myself from smiling when I see his eyes scan me. I put my suit on before I left the compound just in case. His hand flattens on my lower back as he guides me into the house, causing a blush to heat up my cheeks. He leads me into a grand living room, a table lit up with holographic files and buildings providing a blue hue to the room.
"Nadya," Sam chuckles and nods at me as we enter the room. I smile at him, a bit embarrassed at my lack of patience.
"Nice to see you, Sharon," I say with a smile, lying through my teeth.
She smiles passively at me, barely looking up from the table. "Nadya, right?" She asks as she taps the table a few times, bringing up something else.
Bucky laces his fingers through mine and I feel some of my irritation melt away. He leads me over to the table and glances at me, making sure I'm all right. "Yes," I respond to Sharon's passive-aggressive question. Sam's in his suit, Bucky is in his, and Sharon is dressed like she's running for office. I narrow my eyes at her before looking down to the table.
"So, this is where the main base should be," she says, pointing her finger at a picture of my family home. "But, we know that's a front, obviously. I've been monitoring activity over in this area," she mutters as she brings up a picture of an old factory I used to pass on my way to school every morning. "It's buzzing. This has to be the base." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks over to Bucky for approval.
I grit my teeth and study the picture. "I know this place, actually," I mumble, "it was abandoned years ago before I even left Russia."
"Can you send that to me?" Sam asks, pointing to the satellite photo.
"Yeah," Sharon responds, smiling up at him. "Nadya, I didn't know you were from Russia," she says and I look to her. She starts clearing the files off of the table and brushes the hair out of her face.
"It was a long time ago," I mention, trying to get the attention away from me.
"I see you're fitting right in with the team, here." She smiles, gesturing to Sam and Bucky.
I force a smile on my face. "They've been very welcoming," I remark.
"I'll be right back, I need to make a call," Sam says, staring at his cell phone. My eyes follow him as he paces out of the room.
"I'm gonna go grab a drink," Sharon says awkwardly as she backs away from the table.
As soon as she turns around, I feel my eyes burn. I shake my head upon hearing her thoughts. She's still the Power Broker, she does arms trades, deals, there are even thoughts of making another super-soldier serum. "You okay?" Bucky's soft voice breaks me out of my trance. I glance up at him and smile.
"I'm okay," I say with a nod. I point in the direction Sharon went to and break my hand away from his, reluctantly. "I'll be right back, there's something I need to discuss with Sharon." He raises a brow at me and I shrug. "Just wait here." I turn around and walk down a narrow hallway leading to an enormous kitchen. There stands Sharon, pouring amber liquid into a crystal glass. I clear my throat but she doesn't look up.
I step onto the marble flooring and look around at the stainless steel appliances, the clear fridge holding many bottles of expensive-looking wines, and a whole booze cart. "I see you've made your life just as comfortable as it was in Madripoor."
"I wouldn't say it was comfortable," she scoffs, turning to me and bringing the glass to her lips.
I nod as I continue looking around the kitchen. "I don't know, it's pretty extravagant." I glare at her and cross my arms over my chest when she laughs lightly. "Shouldn't the Power Broker be lying a bit lower than this?" I squint my eyes at the kitchen and gesture to my surroundings.
Her smile breaks for a second as she sets her glass down. An empty chuckle escapes her. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says, denying my accusation.
I nod, figuring she was going to say something like that. "I figured you'd say that," I chuckle.
I hear her thoughts coming into my head again and her eyes widen, probably startled by the sudden change in color. "You won't be involving Bucky or Sam in any, and I mean, any of your criminal endeavors. If I find out you do or have, then we're going to have a problem." I smile and feel the burn dissipate from my eyes.
"Are you threatening me?" She laughs.
I shrug. "Only if you're guilty," I quip, "but thank you, so much, for the information."
Her eyes widen at me and I sigh, knowing what she wants to hear. "Your secret is safe with me as long as you don't involve them."
She nods, looking defeated but also challenged. As if she doesn't think I would ever do anything.
I hold my hand out, feeling the energy drain through my fingers, and her glass flies from the counter into my hand. I take a sip of the liquid, trying to keep a stern face when it burns my throat. I set it back down onto the counter and ignore the bewildered look on her face. "Goodbye, Sharon," I say with a smile and walk back to the living room.
Bucky is waiting on the couch as I approach him, a smile forming on his lips as his eyes fall on me. "What was that all about?" He asks, a smirk forming on his face.
I chuckle and hold out my hand. "Ready to go home?"
He takes my hand and stands from the couch, the smile never leaving his face. "Absolutely," he remarks.
We step outside of the house, finding Sam standing on the walkway on the phone. "Ready to go?" I ask and he holds up a finger to me, gesturing for me to wait. I raise my eyebrows and Bucky laughs next to me, making me elbow him in his side.
Sam clears his throat as he ends the call. "I just cleared the mission with global operations, just to make sure we won't be arrested," he says, walking toward us.
"Everything's clear?" Bucky asks, his eyes narrowing.
Sam nods. "I'll see you guys back at the compound cause that-" he gestures to my hand and I laugh. "I'm never doing that again, I told you before, can't do it."
"Alright, we'll see you there," Bucky chuckles and I purse my lips to hide a smile. My chest is warm, my body is warm. I've noticed whenever Bucky's around, I don't feel cold anymore. I don't shiver or tremble, I'm just warm. "Let's go home," he whispers, brushing the hair out of my face. I shut my eyes and picture my bedroom at the compound, picturing home.
✪✪✪✪
"Can I ask you something?" I ask in a small voice, picking at the small threads in my comforter.
Bucky walks out of my bathroom holding a small towel in his hands. "Sure," he responds in a soft voice. I watch him toss the towel onto the counter and shut the light off before walking over to my bed. He sits in front of me and I chew on my lip.
My chest aches, a feeling of sadness I haven't felt in a very long time. I take a deep breath and smile at him. "Why don't we do something tomorrow?"
His brows furrow, almost like he's confused. "Like what?"
I get the sense that he's teasing me but I elaborate anyway. I grab his hand softly and trace the gold increments like I always have. I shrug. "I don't know. Just something before we leave. We could go see a movie or go out to eat," I trail off, leaning my head to the side as I list off ideas. Truthfully, the only date I've ever been on was my freshman year of high school and it was a group date, we all went ice skating. It went well up until someone found out about my past 'witchiness'.
"We could do that."
I glance up at him and find him smiling, the look on his face is enough to make my body glow with joy. "Really?" A cheesy smile cracks through my cheeks, feeling like my face is going to split open.
He rolls his eyes, still with the same smile on his face, and hauls my arm over his shoulder. He lies down on my mattress and I laugh as he pulls me down on top of him. He brushes the hair out of my face and caresses my cheek for a moment. "Anything you want," he breathes.
"Anything?" I quirk a brow at him.
He nods, entranced in his own activity. He pulls me down softly and gently presses his lips to mine. "Anything," he repeats as we part.
My cheeks heat up in a blush, my chest flooding with happiness. Out of all of the possibilities my life could have turned out to be, this is the one I would choose every time. Because no one has ever made me feel so loved by just looking at me, by just touching my cheek. I love him. And I'll keep saying it until the end.
✪✪✪✪