The Weight We Carry

by Loaffybrass

Summary:

Taken from their childhood, three sisters—Natasha, Emilia and Yelena, were put in the Red Room and were brutally trained to become elite assassins and spies.

Their entire identities were stripped away and rebuilt to make them perfect weapons, loyal only to the Red Room's orders.

Sent to infiltrate the avengers compound, Emilia has only one goal. Bring the Winter Soldier back. As awful as her experience in the Red Room was, she had to stay loyal to it. If she got out of line, Yelena would be the one to bear the consequences.

Haunted by the memories and guilt, she never expected to find understanding - let alone something more - in the eyes of a man built by war.

Started- 21.04.2025
Finished- ongoing :)

(Trying to update as frequently as possible for you guys :3 )

Chapter 1: ~Intro~

Here's what to expect from this story!!

(no spoilers)

 

- Civil War is not cannon. I can't have my cuties split up here..

- The main character is two years younger than Natasha and 4 years older than Yelena, but I didn't want to make it age accurate because Natasha is supposed to be in her 30s in the Civil War era, while mentally Bucky is still 28, so Natasha is therefore 27 in this book.

- This story won't be following the MCU movies, because I personally think theres no fun in re-writing the plot of every movie and putting a new character in the middle of it all.

- This story represents two broken souls shaped by violence and stripped of choice, making this not just one of those fan fictions where the characters are just all over each other from first sight. You can expect this to be lowkey a little frustrating :P That's what makes a good story imo :)

-Hydra did not fall.

- Feedback (good or bad), is always welcome. I write for fun, but I also want to make sure you are all vibing too. I will adjust or change things if need be.

~

This is going to be a fun summer project for me, so I hope you all enjoy it too <3

Chapter 2: Reunion

As Emilia stood frozen before the door, she could hear nothing but the hammering of one phrase repeating in her mind—relentless, suffocating, like a command stitched into the fabric of her thoughts.

Objective: Assassinate Tony Stark.

"Come on in!" A voice yelled from the other side of the door. Emilia let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and opened the door with practised calm.

"Good evening, Mr Stark. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." She flashed a smile. "I'm sure it is. Elena, was it?" He didn't wait for an answer and started rifling through a stack of papers.

"Tell me, Miss Davis, why do you want this job? You're a good-looking woman in her 20s; surely there are better options." He leaned back in his seat and smirked.

She tilted her head, feigning a laugh. "I'm just such a huge fan of yours; who wouldn't want to work for the Tony Stark?" She batted her eyelashes at him, as he seemed to fall for it. Stroking a man's ego is the most effective way to make him fold.

"Alright then, Miss Davis, let's see what you have to say about these papers right here-" Tony stood up and walked up to a tall bookshelf, back turned—unguarded, giving her a perfect opportunity.

The opportunity.

It's now or never. Just do it. You'll get punished if you don't. Yelena will get in trouble if you don't. Don't let them hurt Yelena. Just do it.

Her hand hovered over her hips, fingers brushing the pistol she was hiding under her blouse—

When the door burst open.

"Hey Tony, I was wondering whether-" The woman stopped mid-sentence. Eyes still, as if she'd just seen a ghost. "Em-Emiliya?" Her voice cracked.

Emilia's body stiffened. Her lips barely parted. "Natalia?" Emilia shuddered, her breath getting shaky.

Ten years. Emilia hasn't seen her sister in ten years. It felt almost surreal.

Natasha stepped closer, a flicker of disbelief in her voice. "You're alive- you- how are you here-" "Traitor." Emilia spat. Natasha halted, stunned.

"You- how could you?! How could you leave me in that wretched place? How could you leave us there to rot?!" Emilia cried out, her composure cracking.

"I'm so, so sorry, Emilia. I- I tried everything. I tried to find you and Yelena, but every lead—"

"Пиздиш. (Bullshit.)" Emilia cut in bitterly. "Please, Em," Natasha stepped forward. "Just talk to me. How—why are you here—"

But Emilia had already drawn the pistol, pointing it straight at Natasha's head.

Natasha froze—not in fear for herself, but for Emilia. Her little sister. The one she used to whisper secrets to under shared blankets. Even her real name. The same sister who's now holding a gun to her head.

The Red Room didn't fall. She failed. Everything she thought she accomplished, the lives of all the black widows she tried to save, was meaningless. She failed. What has the Red Room done to her? What lies have they fed her to make her turn against her own sister?

Emilia shuddered as the gun shook in her hands, not being able to keep her emotions in check anymore. She noticed Tony pull out a repulsor, aiming it at her, ready to do whatever it takes to protect Natasha.

Meanwhile, Natasha tried to bring Emilia's attention back to her. "Em... please put the gun down. I won't hurt you, I swear. I- I swear on Fanny."

Those words suddenly took Emilia way back to their childhood, a memory flashing by.

As Natasha was finishing up the fort, Emiliya and Yelena cuddled up inside, giggling and laughing. Natasha finally wrapped up, turned off the lights, and joined them inside.

"What are you guys talking about?" Natasha questioned. "Emiliya says she laughed so hard the other day, milk came out of her nose! You're soo lying, Mel!" Yelena giggled. "I am NOT lying! Честно! (i swear!) A chunk even got stuck, and I could smell the milk for three days after that!" Emilia scrunched her nose in remembrance of that day.

"Okay then. If you're REALLY being truthful, swear on Fanny then." Natasha grabbed the dog plushie from behind her and shoved it in Emilia's face. "Hey!! What did Fanny Longbottom do to deserve this?!" Yelena frowned as her plushie got used as bait.

"I swear on Fanny." Emilia smirked. "Now watch it; we can never break a promise made in Fanny's name. Got it?" "Yes, ma'am." Yelena and Emilia say in unison, causing all three of them to break out in laughter.

The memory faded and brought Emilia back to the present as she lowered her gun. Regretting it instantly.

Natasha let a sigh out, relieved her sister was still in there. Tony also lowered his repulsor as he saw the visible relaxation on Natasha's face but still stayed on edge, ready to attack if something were to happen.

"I'm sor- pardon my French, but what the fuck just happened?" Tony asked, eyebrows raised. "She's my sister. Emilia." "Sister?! There's two of you?" Tony gawked. "Wait- why did she call you Natalia? Have you been holding out on me, Romanoff?"

"Козёл. (Asshole.)" Emilia rolled her eyes. Natasha snorted and turned back to Tony, "Natalia is my real name. I don't use it." She turned back to Emilia, "Why are you here, Em? Is it a mission?"

"Woah, are we sure asking her that is smart?" He whispered. "Last time you did, she pulled a Clint Eastwood straight from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.."

Emilia kept staring at the floor, emotionless. How she was taught. "Yes. It was a mission." She responded, her voice flat. "Let me guess. 'Reunite with your estranged sister and have a gunfight in my office'?" Tony blinked.

"Да помолчи уже! (Just shut up already!)" Emilia snapped. "What- what did she say- was it mean? Was it about how incredibly handsome I am?" Tony smirked.

"Поверь мне, я сама не знаю, как я его ещё не убила. (Trust me, I don't know how I haven't killed him myself yet.)" Natasha scoffed.

"You're definitely talking about me." Tony frowned jokingly. "No, we are talking about the political and economical state of the world right now." Emilia replied dryly. "Oh yes, the economy has been going down drastically recently; it's really quite a shame. It's a good thing I'm rich."

"Твою мать. (Motherfucker.)" Emilia whispered under her nose.

"So what really is the mission?" Natasha nudged Emilia. "To assassinate Tony Stark." Emilia confessed reluctantly, immediately wanting to take it back.

"You flatter me, little terminator." Emilia's lip snarled at Tony's remark.

Why did she tell them? Why did she talk? What will happen to her now? "No, no, no, no- what have I done? I'm gonna get put in the hole." Emilia kept mumbling to herself when she realised she could still come back from this.

She raised her gun once more, this time—pointing it straight at Tony's head.

However, Tony didn't flinch. His repulsor glowed in response. "Please, Em. You don't have to do this. We can help you. You can start over. With me." Natasha pleaded.

"He's my mission."

Emilia's voice cracked, a single tear escaping her control. "Tony, put it down!" Natasha shouted. "Em... please."

Emilia looked Natasha's way and saw the tears rolling down her face. She saw it now. She wasn't lying. Her pleas were real. Maybe.. maybe she should trust her. Why wouldn't she? She's her sister. And most importantly, she swore on Fanny.

Emilia dropped the gun with a shaky breath, sitting back in her chair. "I-I'm sorry." Emilia ran her hands over her face, contemplating her decision with every passing second.

"Romanoff- can I- can I talk to you for a moment? In private?" Tony said a little too casually for someone who was just held at gunpoint. However, it also wasn't his first time.

"I'll be right back, okay? Stay right here. Don't move. Please." Natasha jolted to the adjacent room, following Tony.

As soon as the door shut, Emilia quietly rushed over to eavesdrop, pressing her ear against the door.

"Natasha, you can't be serious! She just tried to kill me! Mercilessly! Look at how much my heart rate increased- look! I could've had a heart attack and died either way!" "Yeah, and that would've done all of us a huge favour—now zip it. Please just give her a chance. I know she can change. Are you forgetting how Clint and I met? He saved me, Tony, and now I want to—need to—save Mel. Please."

"I don't know, Nat.. she seems pretty loyal to the Red Room." "So was Barnes with Hydra, but we got that cleared up, didn't we? He was enslaved. Just like Mel. Just like me." Natasha's voice cracked.

"You're right.. she deserves a fair shot. Go tell her. I'll tell Friday to set her up a nice guest room at the compound." Natasha smirked at Tony's words and ran to the door. Emilia jolted back into her seat, afraid of getting punished for eavesdropping.

"How would you like to meet the Avengers?" Natasha asked eagerly.

"Can't wait." Emilia mumbled. The real mission finally commencing.

Notes:

I think my favorite part about writing this, is going to be the fact that I get to yap and swear in Russian :D (it's my second language)

Also, I know Natasha’s relationship is more different with Yelena in the movie, but I felt like giving them a more sisterly-like dynamic is much better for the plot—so I had to change some details, but her main story line is still the same.

Chapter 3: First Impressions

As they made their way to the guest room, Natasha turned to look at Emilia with a genuine smile on her face.

She's going to hate me when she finds out why I'm here.

She opened the door and spoke up. "Make yourself at home."

Home. The word lingered in Emilia's mind.

"Thanks, Nat." Emilia said, followed by a half smile as she stepped into the room. The room was obnoxiously huge. Warm, golden light poured in through tall arched windows, draped with sheer ivory curtains, casting soft shadows across the polished wooden floor. A grand four- poster bed stood at the center dressed in white linen and layered with plush, velvet throws in forest green.

On one side, a vintage writing desk faced the window, scattered with blank stationery and a crystal vase of fresh flowers. On the other, an armchair and a matching lounge sat near a marble fireplace flickering with quiet heat. The walls were lined with old books and framed art, and every corner smelled faintly of cedar and lavender—like someone had actually taken care to make it feel like a home.

"It's- it's perfect." Emilia managed to say, jaw quite literally on the floor. Natasha grinned and sat on the soft bed, a moment later joined by Emilia.

"How.. how are you holding up so far?" Natasha asked with pity in her eyes. "I.. I don't really know how to feel." "You're safe now, Em. I won't let you get away again.." Try and stop me, Emilia thought. "How about- How's Yelena.. Is she safe?"

Emilia's heart sank as a memory sliced through her—the sound of Yelena's scream, the glint of metal, and the helpless way her eyes met Emilia's. If she stepped out of line, Yelena is the one who would get punished. "She's.. as fine as one could be in a place like that." probably in the hole right now. "Could we.. try and save her too?" Natasha asked with hope. "I- I don't know where they're keeping her." Her voice cracked. "She got put into a different base when we tried to run away together."

"How.. how long ago was that?" Natasha asked with fear in her eyes. "Three years ago," Emilia responded with a sigh. Natasha covered her mouth with her hand in disbelief. She found one sister, but has no idea where the other one was. "Do you know what they're doing to her there?" Yes. "No."

"Don't worry, okay? We'll find her..." We won't. Emilia hummed in agreement anyway. A tear fell down her face once more in remembrance of Yelena's face when they dragged her away. Natasha immediately pulled her into a hug after seeing the expression on her face.

Emilia stayed stiff at first, arms hovering awkwardly, breath caught in her throat, but then something gave. The scent, the warmth, the ache of missing her for too long—it all hit at once. Slowly her hands lifted and clung back, letting herself fall into the embrace, burying her face into the crook of Natasha's neck.

This isn't so bad.

No, no, no, you can not think that way. Remember the mission. Remember what you're here for. Natasha's happy here; she'll be fine with you gone. Yelena needs you. She's relying on you. Think about Yelena. She's the one who needs saving—not you, Emiliya.

Emilia pulled away, deep down not wanting the moment to end. Natasha wiped her tears away and cleared her throat. "Hey, um, do you want to meet the squad? Or we could also just sit here... whatever you'd like..." Natasha offered.

The mission comes first.

"I'd love to meet them," she lied. There was only one person she was interested in meeting at the compound. She didn't care for the rest.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧˚

 

As they walked over to the common room, both Natasha and Emilia were scared with anticipation. Both for different reasons. Natasha was afraid of how Emilia would react to everyone there. While Emilia's worry was what she should say to him.

Upon entrance to the room, several eyes landed on them, slowly drifting to Emilia, who was just slightly taller than Natasha. Emilia started feeling a little uneasy, feeling too open and unsafe. Natasha put her hand behind Emilia's back, reminding her that she's right there with her.

As they walked further into the room, a man ran up to Natasha, hugging her tightly. "Hey, Nat! Where were you all day? You haven't been picking up the phone." His eyes shifted to Emilia, quickly studying her, "And who's this?" He smiled. "Sorry, Clint um-" she turned to Emilia, "this is Clint, Clint Barton. Clint, meet Emilia-" Natasha got cut off by Clint as soon as the name fell from her lips. "Emiliya?! The Emiliya?? It's you! Oh my god, it's really you!" He exclaimed, causing Emilia to furrow her eyebrows at Natasha. "How do you.. know me?" "Are you kidding?! Natasha never stopped talking about you and Yelena since the day we met!"

Emilia couldn't conceal her smirk anymore. "She has?" she teased. "Of course! I just- ugh-" Clint suddenly pulled her into a hug. Unsure of what to do, Emilia just stayed that way, frozen, until she realised what she needed to do.

"Thank you for saving my sister," she whispered in his ear. He slowly pulled away, giving her a lipless smile in return, knowing no words could express what he's feeling right now. "You okay, Clint?" Natasha questioned him as his eyes got teary. "I'm not crying; you are!" He said as he stormed away.

Natasha and Emilia exchanged looks with grins, and for a moment, just for a moment, this felt like old times. The moment got quickly interrupted when two guys walked up to them, one of whom, unfortunately, Emilia recognised.

"Hey ladies! And hello there, Arya Stark.." Tony mocked. him again. "Play nice, Tony." The other man commented. "You must be, Emilia. Natasha let me know about your arrival. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Steve-" "Rogers. The one and only Captain America. It's an honour to meet you." Emilia stated. Steve turned his head to Tony with a grin, "Hear that Stark? It's an honour."

Tony rolled his eyes, "God, are we gonna have yet another Black Widow fawning over him?"

The whole conversation went dead silent, only exchanging looks. Natasha looked annoyed, Steve looked confused, while Tony wiggled his eyebrows at Emilia. "He doesn't know what he's talking about." Natasha let out an incredibly forced laugh and dragged Emilia out of there with her. "Don't you say a word." "Whatever you say, Mrs. Rogers," Emilia teased, earning a hit in the shoulder from her sister.

They kept making their way around the room when she noticed a gloomy figure sitting on the couch. Shoulders slumped forward in a dark blue hoodie, facing her with his back.

"What's his deal?" Emilia cocked her head in his direction. "Oh, um.." Natasha started when he suddenly stood up and started making his way towards the kitchen behind the pair. Before Natasha had the chance to answer, Emilia saw his face and felt as though her soul left her body. "That's—" "The Winter soldier." 

Bucky noticed the new figure standing in front of him, analysing her face carefully. He felt a sense of familiarity about her, albeit he's never met her before. Her eyes, her hair.. it almost felt.. comfortable. How does he remember her? Who is she?

Who are you?

As Bucky kept staring—analysing every bit of her, all that goes through Emilia's head is guilt. Immense guilt. Eyes still as glass, breath hitched in her throat.

She's been preparing for this moment for months, anticipating the moment they finally meet again, but nothing could've prepared her for those eyes.

Stop looking in those eyes. Remember the mission. The Winter Soldier is your mission.

Seeing Emilia's reaction, her sister asked worriedly, "Hey, Em.. are you alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost." I just might have.

After a little more staring back and forth, Bucky finally broke the tension and walked up to her— Thoughts running wild, unable to be contained. "Do I know you?" He asked a little too eagerly. "Not that I recall.. I've heard about you though." She lied through her teeth.

Natasha watched the exchange with suspense, unsure of what's going on between the two. "Are you sure? I think I've seen you before.." No.. he shouldn't remember. I made sure he won't remember. "I just have one of those faces." She forced a laugh.

She could visibly see the intrigue and the hint of excitement on his face drop, tying a knot in her stomach. His face went straight back to a neutral poker face, emotions unreadable. He's miserable because of her, again. Seems to be their destiny.

"Oh. Pardon me, then. I'm Bucky." He stated almost robotically, as if he had to practice saying those two words together. He pulled out his hand, ready to shake hers, but as she kept staring into those eyes, the memory she's been dreading thinking of came flooding to the top.

"Subject 45, follow me." The agent stated coldly to Emilia. She complied, face staying neutral as she followed the agent into what looked like the outside of an interrogation room, with one of the walls made of one-sided glass. She peaked through the glass, wondering which poor soldier is most probably getting tortured in the adjacent room. Then she saw him.

The Winter Soldier. She thought he was a myth. A lie spread by Hydra to scare their enemies. Yet there he was. Arms tied down, unconscious.

"What are you going to do to him?" She asked, not being able to hide the worry in her voice. " We , aren't going to do anything. You are."

Emilia froze, not understanding what they're asking of her. "We heard about the test serum you were given. The 'mind voodoo tricks.' Let's put it to the test, shall we?" The man grinned, "It seems as though our solider here ran into an old friend recently. Their bond even seems to break the effect of our memory-wiping device. Now's your time to shine, 45."

"What are you saying? That I- I wipe his memories? I don't even- I don't even know how to do that!" Emilia started hyperventilating. "Everyone starts somewhere. Now go." He commanded, and Emilia headed the soldier's way immediately, being the good soldier that she is.

As she stood there, staring at his unconscious body, she couldn't help but think about how innocent he looked. Not the murderous killing machine she's heard so many stories about. And that single thought alone—only made what she was about to do that much harder.

"Emilia?" Her sister snapped her back to the present. "Are you well?" "Yeah- sorry um, I'm Emilia. It's good-nice to meet you." Emilia blabbered out, trying to keep it together. For the mission.

She reached out her hand to shake his. For a second too long, their fingers lingered, the air between them shifting ever so slightly.

Emilia immediately pulled away and put a smile on her face. They suddenly heard Steve call for Bucky from across the room, catching everyone's attention. "Excuse me." Bucky said politely as he walked off to join his old friend.

"What the hell was that?" Nat burst out as if she's been waiting forever to talk. "What?" Emilia said nonchalantly, as though nothing had just happened. "Have you really never met before?" The redhead squinted her eyes at her sister, seeing through the lies.

"No, we haven't. Now can we please stop talking about this?" Emilia stated, almost annoyed, that she doesn't trust her. She can't lie as well as she used to. "Alright.." Natasha dropped the subject but still wondered. "Hey Nat.. Who is Arya Stark? Tony's secret daughter or something?" Emilia changed the subject.

Natasha chuckled and responded, "When we have free time later, I'm gonna need to put you on Game of Thrones." "Is that a video game?" Her face lit up. "We have a lot of catching up to do, Mel." The redhead snorted. "Stop making fun of me. You know the love I have for video games. I miss them." Emilia said with a pout.

"And I know exactly who can help with that one." Her sister grinned and dragged her back to Tony. Блять. (shit.) "Tony, is the kid in the building right now?" "Yes, dearie, he's in my lab right now. Why? You trying to introduce him to the killer queen?" He questioned. Natasha rolled her eyes in response, "Can you call him down here?" "Jarvis, tell the kid to get down here ASAP."

"Why the hell are you rushing him? Poor kid is in enough stress as it is." Natasha's glare burned into Tony's skull. "Because his entrance is funny." Tony said casually. Moments later, they heard running, followed by a teenager almost slipping sideways upon entrance. Tony snorts, "See? Funny." "Что с тобой не так? (What's wrong with you?)" Emilia stared with disbelief.

"Sorry, Mr. Stark.. You called for me?" "Nope." Tony brushed him off and walked away, leaving the kid speechless. "I'm really sorry about him.. I called for you. I wanted to introduce you to my sister, Emilia." "Oh- wow. Oh my god, so nice to meet you, ma'am, I'm Parker Pete- Peter Parker."

Natasha tries her best not to laugh as she looked at Emilia's expression of pure shock—eyes so wide, it's as though she's been insulted. "Ma'am?? How old do you think I am??" She scoffed. Peter's face went red, and he started apologising immediately. "Listen, Parker. You like games, right? Emilia over here adores them. Maybe you could give her some modern recommendations?"

Peter's face lit up with joy. "Oh my god! Absolutely- okay so my all-time favourite is The Last of Us; it's incredible- life changing, even." Peter kept going on about the game, but as much as Emilia wanted to focus on what he was saying, she couldn't help but notice Bucky glaring from the corner of her eye. She was starting to feel uneasy. Not just because she's being watched, but because being watched by him makes her feel exposed—like he knows something about her that he's not supposed to.

He doesn't know. I made sure.

Chapter 4: Betty

This feels so real, Emilia thought to herself. I didn't know a memory could feel so real.

As Emilia looked around in awe, admiring every detail. She was in an amusement park quite similar to the ones her parents used to take her to.

The scent of popcorn, roasted peanuts, and cotton candy lingered in the air as families strolled past hand-painted signs and colourful, slightly weathered booths. A wooden roller coaster creaked in the distance, its clattering cars echoing alongside the shrill whistle of a carousel spinning to a lively organ tune.

Barkers called out from game stalls, inviting people to toss rings or knock down milk bottles for cheap prizes. Soldiers on leave might be spotted with their sweethearts, sharing a soda or laughing at the funhouse mirrors. Everything buzzed with life, yet there was a simple magic to it—no flashing screens, no booming speakers, just lights strung overhead and the thrill of summer nights.

She quickly snapped out of it. Remember why you're here.

As she searched for him, she suddenly heard a man cheering nearby after just winning a teddy bear. She looked closer and noticed him. Noticed the Winter Soldier. That can't be him..

He looks so.. different. The lack of a metal arm aside, he looks genuinely happy. That smile couldn't hurt a fly. And I'm going to have to take that away from him.

"Here goes.." She mumbled as she got into character and made her way over to the game stall. Accompanying the assassin was Steve Rogers. Hydra's biggest regret was not killing him all those years ago. However, he was pre-super soldier serum in this memory, much shorter than Emilia. She tried her best to act as subtly as possible when approaching them.

Remember the plan. Study him. Don't act suspicious. wipe.

Most importantly— don't feel.

"Hey there." Emilia said with a smirk, trying not to freak out at the fact that she's standing a foot in front of the world's most deadly assassin. "Hey, doll." He grinned. "Are you lost?" The man teased Emilia as she tried to find the words to say. "What's your name?" "I'm- uh, I'm Elizabeth." She managed to say.

"Pleasure to meet you, Betty," he responded with a smirk. This was the life of an assassin? Flirting with the first girl he sees? Pathetic. "I'm Bucky."

Bucky. Somehow giving him a name, a real name, only made her feel that much more melancholy.

"The pleasure's all mine." She looked him up and down, remembering to follow the script. "So what are you two doing here on a Tuesday afternoon?" "Bucky's leaving for an academy soon; we're celebrating. I'm Steve by the way."

Emilia felt a sting of guilt when she realised she had forgotten to introduce herself to Steve. She was so preoccupied with meeting Bucky she completely forgot. "I'm so sorry, Steve—nice to meet you." "That's okay. Women don't really notice me, let alone next to this punk." Bucky hit Steve on the shoulder, and they both broke into laughter. His laugh. I'm going to have to take it from him. "Ignore him. He's just cranky because my mum yelled at him earlier."

Oh no, no, no- why, why, why did he have to mention his mother?? I can't control what I erase- why, why did he have to mention his mum?

She felt a gnawing ache in her gut, filled with guilt. It felt as though the air was closing in on her. She knew the first time she'd do this would be hard, but seeing him here—now. It felt real. As real as it could be in a memory. Her hands trembled, eyes wide but unfocused, and she seemed to shrink into herself, as if trying to disappear.

Without hesitation, Bucky moved to her side and crouched, keeping his voice low and gentle. "Hey, hey.. You're okay. You're safe." His tone was warm and caring. She didn't respond, her chest still rising too fast, eyes darting. Meanwhile, Steve ran to find help.

He didn't reach for her at first. Instead, he sat beside her on the floor, matching her level, making himself small so he wouldn't overwhelm her. "Can you hear my voice?" he asked softly, anchoring her with his presence. "I want you to try and take one deep breath with me. Just one. We'll go slow."

He inhaled deeply, exaggerating the rise of his chest so she could follow. Then he exhaled, slow and steady. After a few moments, she tried to copy him—ragged at first, but it was a start.

"That's good, Betty. That's really good," he encouraged. "You're doing great."

Only then did he gently offer his hand, palm up, not touching—just there.

Little by little, her breathing began to even out. The storm behind her eyes started to quiet. She couldn't accept his gesture. The words don't feel kept going through her head. "How did you know how to do that?" Emilia asked in disbelief, still trying to catch her breath. Bucky chuckled and lowered his hand "My dad gets panic attacks sometimes.. My sister is too young to help and mum comes home late, so It's usually me helping him."

Emilia closed her eyes in denial—a tear falling down her face. His dad. His sister. His mum.

She covered her face with her hands, mentally scolding herself for asking him that. "What's wrong?" Bucky asked innocently, still sitting beside her. "I- I can't do this anymore. I'm so sorry.." Emilia said as she lifted her face from her palms to lock eyes with Bucky. She watched everything around them disappear, rapidly closing up on them. The last thing she saw was the genuine concern on his face. The face of a killer.

Emilia jolted upright, heart pounding, the dream replaying in her head—almost haunting her. She quickly jumped out of bed, her throat incredibly parched, and made her way downstairs to the kitchen.

She grabbed a cup out of a cabinet and started filling it up with water out of the filter. As she chugged the water, she couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes staring at her. She immediately turned around and noticed a shadow in the corner of the room. Her heart nearly skipped a beat when she realised it was Bucky.

"Can't sleep?" He asked as he came closer, walking up to the kitchen island. She let out a slight chuckle, "Yeah. You?" "Same.. bad dream?" Emilia froze, the memory replaying in her head. "Yeah, something like that.. Have you been getting them too?" "Since I got out of.. they've only been getting worse." Get information. "How- how long have you been out of there?" Emilia questioned, hoping not to raise suspicion.

"A few months. Steve had tracked me down and brought me here around two weeks ago. The people here are very.. nice.Understanding." Bucky caught a quick flash of his fight with Steve and shook his head, trying to push it away. Not that it helped. "How about you? How was your first day here? Good first impressions?" He forced a smile.

She cringed in remembrance of every interaction she had with Tony. "That Stark is one pretentious douchebag." She laughed, "But I should probably give him the benefit of the doubt; he might be on his period." Bucky's gaze dropped, shadowed by guilt, at the mention of Tony.

Emilia knows it's been a while since she's told someone a joke, but she didn't think it was that bad that it upset him. "Did I say something wrong?"

Once Bucky realised he wasn't hiding his mood change, he quickly snapped out of it and reassured her, "No- sorry." Emilia quickly caught on that his mood shift might've been from the mention of Tony rather than the joke.

What happened between him and Tony? Investigate.

"Did something happen bet-" She started but got cut off. "Are you sure we've never met?" Bucky knew he had to stop her before she started asking more questions. The worst part was, for a fleeting second, he almost wanted to tell her. But his past wasn't something he shared; it was something he buried in the corners of his mind where even he rarely dared to look. Until it crept up on him in his dreams.

It scared him that he considered opening up to her—even if it was just for a split second. He was now more sure than ever that he had to have known her from somewhere. She doesn't feel like a stranger to him.

Heat crept up her neck as the words left his mouth, and she forced a laugh that came out too quick, too thin. Her hands fidgeted with anything she could find—a sleeve, the hem of her shirt— anything to avoid those eyes on her. Her stomach twisted with the sharp edge of guilt, but it tangled with something else too: the hope that maybe, just maybe, he couldn't tell how guilty she looked.

"Cut it out already. We don't know each other." She felt even worse having to lie to him, but Bucky wasn't convinced. She was a trained spy, but so was he.

"I think you're lying to me." His eyes darkened. He slowly made his way around the kitchen island, now standing only a foot away from Emilia.

Emilia's breath caught in her throat. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything but the sound of his approaching footsteps. She took a small step back, bumping into the counter, her fingers curling around the edge for something solid. Panic bloomed in her chest—cold, sharp, and breathless. "Why would I lie, James?"

"Hmh.. and how exactly do you know my first name?" His eyes searched hers, sharp with accusation.

"Natasha told me. How else?" She tried playing it off. How could I let that slip? "Oh yeah?" He narrowed his eyes at her, getting an inch closer. She wasn't going to talk her way out of this one.

There's only one way to make him stop, Emiliya. Do it.

A stillness fell over Emilia as her expression shifted—calm, almost unnervingly so—as she tilted her head a little to the right. Her irises bled into darkness, swallowing the whites of her eyes until nothing remained but an inky black void.

Bucky froze, his breath hitching as an invisible pull tugged at the edges of his mind. Her gaze locked onto his, and it wasn't just a look—it was a force, peeling back layers of thought and memory with quiet, merciless precision. His pulse pounded, but he couldn't look away. She was inside now.

Emilia made sure to keep him in that state for the moment. He was there physically, but not mentally. As he stood there, emotionless, eyes swirling with dark mist just as hers were, she noticed how vulnerable he was in this moment—it was almost eerie.

She grabbed his wrist and dragged him to follow her up to his room. He silently followed, completely unaware this was even going on. She was still in his head, mending what he was thinking.

As they entered his room, she somehow managed to get him on the bed.

With the faintest shift in her expression, her power softened, wrapping around him like a whisper. His eyes grew heavy, resistance fading. And then, with nothing more than her will, he slipped into sleep—peaceful, effortless, as though the world itself had hushed.

She couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself, having put him to sleep. Partly because she's never tried it before and partly because he has insomnia. A small part of her felt happy for him. He looked so peaceful for once. The torment he went through—not shown on his face anymore. It reminded her of the first time she saw him. That memory almost made it worse.

She quickly brushed off her feelings and left his room, quietly running to hers.

He should be expecting my call.

Once she was finally in her room, she pulled out the burner phone she's been hiding from her suit and dialled.

"Mission report?" The voice from the other line spoke. "I've successfully infiltrated the compound. I've made contact with Barnes. Waiting on your command, Sir." She replied obediently.

"Good. Is he suspicious of you?" "He was. He started interrogating me, so I made him a puppet. He'll wake up tomorrow thinking we cleared it up."

"Well done, agent, but don't get cocky. Remember what's at stake if you fuck up." He spat with a thick Russian accent. Emilia's heart started beating faster, thoughts forming in her head, but she'd never dare to say them out loud. "Yes, Sir."

"Now, find out all you can about him and use it against him, agent. Make him fall for you and lure him back to us." Emilia's mouth dropped. She didn't know that was what she had to do in order to get the Winter Soldier back. As cruel as all this was, this just felt pure evil.

"How is him falling for me going to help me lure him back?" She dared to question. "Don't you see it, 45? He can always get his memories back once we have him again, but he wouldn't want to leave if you were right there with him, dear. He'll be forever loyal." The man laughed through the phone.

Emilia had to sit down to process what she had just heard. She knew she needed to bring him back. She knew what it meant for him and his freedom, but trapping both his body and soul in Hydra felt unnecessary.

Who am I to talk back to him? I'm agent 45–nothing more. Know your place, Emiliya.

"Yes, Sir."

Notes:

This is where the fun begins >:3

Chapter 5: Pancakes

After that phone call, Emilia sat on the corner of her bed for what felt like hours, contemplating everything she stands for. She realised she couldn't go to sleep after tonight's events, so instead she decided to go explore the compound.

As she made her way around the top floor, she noticed the laboratory's lights were on. Curiosity got the best of her, and she peeked in the window. Inside, she saw Tony tinkering on his suit.

How long has he been at this? It must be morning soon.

She carefully tried to sneak past the laboratory when a voice abruptly stopped her. "You wanna come in, Emilia?" Tony said with a grin, eyes still locked in on the tools between his hands.

Emilia was stumped. She was so careful; how did he know? "Friday told me you were on your way here minutes ago." He clarified. She sighed in defeat and stepped foot into the lab.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean to distract you." She said, staring at the floor. "Why are you up so late?" He questioned. "I could ask you the same thing." Emilia said with crossed arms.

"Touché.." He smirked, finally turning back to look at her. "Could you pass me the welding clamps? They're the ones-" before Tony could finish elaborating, Emilia passed him the tools. He looked back and forth between the tools and Emilia, confused. "How did you-" "My dad and I used to build stuff in his garage. He taught me these things when I was little." She said proudly with a half smile, handing him the clamps.

"Sounds like a cool dad." Tony said with a nod. Emilia's smile dropped as she started fidgeting with her hands. "Not exactly the term I would use."

Tony's eyes met Emilia's with understanding. "Yeah.. my dad was definitely not in the running for World's Best Dad either." Tony joked, but the thought meant a lot to Emilia. It was clear to her he was trying to form a connection. 

"Really? The genius billionaire whose business was passed down to him from his dad.. has daddy issues?" She asked curiously, but it almost came out judgementally. "Throwing money at things and only having one son to pass your legacy onto doesn't really make you a good dad." He rolled his eyes.

Emilia felt bad for assuming after hearing that. "You're right... I'm sorry." "How about you make up for it by going to bed? You look swamped, Lady Macbeth." Tony said cleverly. Emilia is quite aware of her appearance and how sleep-deprived she looked, so she didn't argue. "I can't..." she said.

Tony gave her a knowing look and started talking to the ceiling, "Friday, be a dear and make Emilia a cup of that 'special' tea Pepper had shipped in for me." "What the hell is 'special' tea?" Emilia questioned, not being able to hide her smile.

"It's this tea my wife ordered for me, to help me sleep on... those nights." He said, almost ashamed. "And this isn't one of those nights?" Emilia tried not to push but couldn't help it. "Friday, would you please hurry up with that tea?" Tony pleaded, trying to escape the situation.

"Alright, alright, it's none of my business. I appreciate the gesture, though." She grinned as she grabbed the mug brought in by a robot on wheels. She chugged the entire drink and immediately regretted it after having to gasp for air to get rid of the burning sensation in her throat. Tony only laughed with amusement.

"Sit. Sleep." He pointed to the couch. Emilia gave him a salute and lay down on the couch. It didn't take long before she passed out. The interaction they just had certainly helped her thoughts calm down; maybe even more so than the tea.

When Tony finally noticed her fast asleep, he quietly walked up to her and covered her with a blanket. "Try not to kill me in your sleep," he whispered with a smile.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

"Excuse me, Miss Ivanova, Mr Stark is calling you up to the kitchen for breakfast." Friday's voice boomed through the speakers. Even half asleep, Emilia processed how the Ai addressed her. "Don't call me that." She told Friday while running her hands down her face, trying to wake up.

"Pardon me, how should I address you?" "Emilia is fine." She responded as she stood up from the couch, noticing the blanket lying beside her. She couldn't help but smile at the thought that Tony did that. Even though it's such a small gesture, it reminded her of home. "Noted." The AI responded. "Thanks, Friday." It felt weird to Emilia to talk to the ceiling, but she couldn't deny how fun it was.

"Mr Stark left you a new toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom on your right." Friday added. Emilia didn't peg Tony as one to care about these things, but she wasn't complaining.

After she finished cleaning up, she finally made her way down to the kitchen.

She was afraid of people greeting her weirdly, but all of those worries faded once she walked in the room. She got greeted with smiles and the smell of freshly baked pancakes.

"Hey Sarah Connor! Come sit." Tony said with too much energy.

This guy had less sleep than me; how is he even standing right now?

Emilia joined the table; sitting in front of her was Tony, with Bruce and Clint to her right. She noticed Bucky sitting in the very corner of the table, sitting completely isolated, until Steve joined him with two plates of pancakes, putting a small smile on his face. Even just seeing him made her feel weighed down by guilt.

Emilia started to wonder where Natasha was when, as if she was summoned, they could hear her footsteps running to the kitchen.

Before Natasha even entered the room, she started yelling for help, "Steve! Have you seen Emilia- I don't- she's not in her room-" She stopped once she finally walked into the kitchen, seeing Emilia stare at her with guilt.

"You found me!" Emilia quietly exclaimed, feeling bad that she gave her sister a mild heart attack.

Natasha let out a huge sigh of relief and hurried over to Emilia's side, taking the empty seat next to her. "Are you fed? Are you okay? How'd you sleep?" The redhead started bombarding her with questions.

"Nat. I'm okay." She reassured with a smile, not remembering the last time someone cared to ask these things. "Good.. good." She calmed down, leaning back in her chair.

"I'm gonna get us some food. Be right back." Natasha exclaimed and left the table. Emilia nodded and leaned back in her chair. "So, Emilia," Steve started, "how are you fitting in here so far? Anyone give you any trouble?" He smirked, nodding his head to Tony, which made Bucky slightly choke on his food.

Tony only rolled his eyes in response, which was odd because normally he'd think of something snappy to say in return. It's almost like he's trying to be the bigger person. "Piss off, Capsicle." He bit back.

Almost.

"He's not so bad." She smiled while fidgeting with her hands again. Tony tried his best to conceal the smile on his face.

Both Steve's and Bucky's eyes met hers, jaws dropping. "Not so bad?" Steve wondered what on earth could possess Emilia to say that. He, from experience, knows how long it takes to get used to Tony Stark.

"Yeah, why?" She said innocently. Bucky tilted his head in confusion. That's not what you said last night, he thought.

Emilia noticed the look from him, so she responded with another head tilt, hoping he gets the message that she'll explain later.

"Just unexpected, is all." Steve smiled, looking back down at his food. Bucky's eyes didn't leave hers, however.

Natasha finally made her way back to the table with two plates of pancakes and a side of syrup. "Here, try them." Natasha practically shoved the plate in her face.

As much as Emilia felt smothered in that moment, she enjoyed it.

She took a bite of the pancakes, and it was almost too much—the taste unlocked something buried deep. For a moment, the metal and blood of her past dissolve, replaced by the distant echo of a sunlit kitchen, laughter, and the faint scent of vanilla. Her throat tightens as the memory washes over her - not just of the pancakes, but of who she was before everything was taken.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed. Natasha knew immediately what she was thinking and feeling. It put the warmest smile on her face.

Emilia started practically inhaling the food, the taste reminding her too much of home. The people at the table couldn't help but laugh at her actions. She even caught a glimpse of Bucky smiling at her. Didn't feel forced this time, though.

I wonder if he remembers what the food his mum cooked for him tastes like.. or did I take that away too?

"Hey, Mel? You up for a gym session later?" Natasha questioned, snapping Emilia out of her thoughts. "Sure, sounds fun."

As tough as the training regime was in the Red Room, Emilia always liked working out and sparring. Made her feel alive. She and Natasha have that in common.

"Rogers, wanna join?" The redhead grinned at Steve. "I would love to, but I don't know if Bucky wants-" "I'm down." Bucky cut him off, eyes examining Emilia.

"Alright, great then. We meet in the gym in an hour. Don't be late." Natasha said, mainly directing it at Steve. He doesn't seem to have the best track record for coming to sessions on time.

"Whatever you say, Romanoff." He scoffed, eyes locked in with hers. "You could cut the tension in here with a knife- I'm out." Tony teased, standing up. "Wait for me!" Bruce added, followed by Clint, "Don't leave me-"

Emilia snorted as she decided to leave the table too. She looked back at Bucky and saw his eyes scream for help. Clearly even the best assassins and heroes can't be left alone with Steve and Natasha.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

Looking around the gym, Emilia was in awe. The place looked nicer than any gym Emilia has ever seen. Hell, even the bedrooms in the Red Room looked less put together than this.

"We get to use this?" Emilia exclaimed. "Twenty-four seven," Natasha reassured. "Sick."

Bucky quietly chuckled at her reaction, but she didn't seem to notice. "Mel, you up for a spar?" Natasha asked.

"Well, well. Settle the debate on who's the better widow, huh?" Steve grinned. "Oh- no, that's not a question I need answered." Emilia joked back. "Ugh, boring. Rogers, you down?" "Hard to say no to you, Romanoff." He laughed as they made their way to one of the rings, leaving Emilia and Bucky by the entrance.

"Come on, Ace. Let's see what you got." Bucky challenged Emilia, daring her to spar with him.

It might be good to know if I could take him if all hell broke loose.

"Don't get cocky, Barnes." She smiled back at him and walked up to the second ring, hopping on the platform. "Don't take it easy on me." He laughed. "Wasn't planning on it."

He raised his hands and nodded, stepping forward. The two circled, the tension in the air rising. She threw the first punch. He dodged easily—too easily. They exchanged punches back and forth, his delivered almost weaker.

"You're pulling your punches," Emilia huffed. He blocked her next kick with his metal arm. It clanged. She grimaced. "I don't want to hurt you," he responded. "I can take it. Hit me."

She lunged—a series of quick jabs, a feint, and a knee strike that nearly landed. He blocked and moved with a grace that belied his size. Still, his blows were controlled, always stopping just short of impact.

She got in close, close enough to see the shadow behind his eyes. Their breaths came shallow. His chest brushed hers for a heartbeat. She didn't back off.

"I'm not afraid of you," she stated. "You should be," Bucky replied softly. But he didn't sound threatening. He sounded... haunted. She saw it now—not just the strength in his body but the weight he carried behind it.

That's when she pivoted—sliding under his guard, twisting. In a flash, her arm hooked his, and with a swift sweep of her leg, he collapsed onto the mat.

He exhaled sharply, flat on his back, and looked up to see Emilia straddling him, her palm against his throat—not pressing, just resting there.

"You're not what I expected," he mumbled. She studied him. Close like this, he was too human. Eyes full of history and hurt. It rattled her more than she'd admit. "You don't know me," Emilia stated. "I'd like to."

That landed heavier than a punch. Her gaze dropped for half a second before she caught herself. She pulled her hand back, stood quickly—the moment slipping through her fingers before it could settle into something real. The next part of theplan was coming sooner than expected, and Emilia didn't know if she was ready for it.

"Sparring's over." Emilia announced, avoiding his eyes. "Yeah. I noticed." Bucky responded with a half smile, still lying on the mat.

Eventually, she turned to leave, but as she reached the ropes, she hesitated.

How can I take his freedom for hers?

Her fingers tightened on the ropes. Then she slipped through them and disappeared into the darkened gym hallway, leaving Bucky alone under the buzzing lights.

Chapter 6: Suri

Notes:

Please keep in mind this is based around 2016!!
- Also I noticed I had a lot of grammar mistakes in the previous chapters, please forgive me :’/ I fixed them though :P -

"She's ready," Natasha said firmly.

It had been a few days since Emilia's arrival, and tensions among the Avengers had steadily grown. Some still weren't sure whether they could trust her. She kept to herself, avoided group activities, and made little effort to connect with anyone—which naturally made people suspicious.

"She's proven we can trust her, Tony," Natasha continued. "She hasn't stepped out of line—not once—since she got here. This stakeout could be the perfect opportunity for her to prove herself."

Most of the team was gathered in the conference room that morning, deep in discussion about whether Emilia was ready to join them in the field.

"I don't know, Natasha... It's too soon to know where her loyalties really lie," Tony said, folding his arms.

"This mission's targeting a Hydra base. She was with the Red Room—not Hydra," Natasha reminded him.

"I mean- let's not forget that the Red Room and Hydra did form an alliance..." Clint added. "Whose side are you on, Barton?" Natasha narrowed her eyes.

"Stark, if you don't let her go on a mission, how will she ever prove herself to you all?" Steve chimed in, siding with Natasha.

"If we do this—I can't send you to go with her, Romanoff. We all know if she turned on us, you wouldn't have it in you to fight back. You're too close to this, I'm sorry." Tony compromised.

She scoffed, "Fine. Send Barnes then." She points at Bucky sitting at the far end of the table, who's suddenly paying attention to the discussion. "If there was something going on, he'd be able to spot it. He knows Hydra like the back of his hand." Steve nodded with agreement.

"That sounds fair, no?" Wanda added; followed by Vision nodding at Tony.

"Alright.. I hope you're right. Barnes, go rest. You have a long night ahead of you. Natasha, go tell Emilia." Tony finished up. Natasha grinned with victory and turned to head out the door, Steve following closely behind.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

It's time, were the only words going through Emilia's head. Natasha had just left her room after informing Emilia of the mission she was assigned to.

After pacing around her room for 15 minutes, thinking of what she should do, she realised she needed to meet with Ivan.

Ivan has worked for Hydra for a while now. He's one of Hydra's most loyal agents; he would give his life for Hydra in a heartbeat. He was also who Emilia was ordered to talk to if anything involving Hydra was to be put in motion.

She knew then she had to meet up with him and tell him everything that she knew about the mission, giving Hydra a heads-up.

She pulled out her burner phone and found his contact. "SOS" is all she typed in. Not even a minute later, she got a response. "Caffe Regio, 20 mins"

She cannot be late. She had to move. She grabbed her bag and ran to the entrance of the compound.

"Where do you think you're going?" Natasha's voice piped up from behind Emilia.

Fuck. "I was, um.. I have a date.." She fibbed. "A what??" Natasha exclaimed a little too loud and walked up to Emilia. "Listen, Nat- when I get back, I'll tell you everything- okay? I promise. I'm so late." Emilia said impatiently.

"Does Barnes know?" Natasha asked with confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?" Emilia questioned, not sure why she would ask that.

"Never mind- just take this. You'll need it." Natasha handed Emilia a new phone. Emilia's jaw practically dropped. "What- when- why?" Emilia couldn't put a sentence together. "I asked Tony for a favour. You can't survive in this century without one of these. Take it." The redhead smiled.

"Nat- thank you.. I don't know what else to say.." Emilia carefully took the phone out of her hand. "Don't say anything. It has all of our numbers already saved. Mine also in your emergency contacts. Now go! Have fun and tell me everything." Natasha laughed as she pushed Emilia out of the door. Emilia only smiled back and ran out.

As she reached the cafe, she noticed Ivan sitting at a table-for-two; his blonde hair was easily recognisable. She carefully approached him. "Afternoon, sir." Emilia greeted him. He looked her up and down. "Agent. Take a seat." He stated emotionlessly. She only nodded.

"What happened?" He asked. "I've been assigned to a stakeout on Hydra's twenty-third base for tonight. They got intel that something is going to go down by the back entrance. The Winter Soldier and I were assigned the mission. He's probably there to keep an eye on me."

The mention of Bucky seemed to interest Ivan. "The Winter Soldier, huh? Well- doesn't matter. It's too soon to get him back yet. You're working on the plan, correct?" His Russian accent slipped out. "Yes, sir." "Good girl," he grinned. "I'll inform the head of that district. We need to make the exchange another day then. Is that all?" "Yes, sir."

"Then you're excused." "Thank you, sir." She swiftly stood up and left the cafe. She felt a huge sense of guilt for going behind Natasha's back like that, but she knew if she went on a secret mission and got caught.. Yelena's screams would haunt her forever.

It's just a stakeout. That's all it is.

She finally made her way back to the compound, running straight up the stairs. She was about to reach the top floor when a voice called for her. "Emilia! Come join us!" Emilia recognised the voice as Steve's. She reluctantly made her way back down and walked up to the group. Standing with Steve were Natasha, Clint, and Bucky.

"Hey, Mel.." Natasha teased. Emilia shot daggers at the redhead with her eyes. Clint suddenly spoke up, "Hey, Emilia.. who'd you go to see just now?"

Emilia's heart dropped. "You keeping tabs on me, Barton?" She questioned, her smile completely gone now. "Can you blame me?" He added. "What the hell, Clint? How could you go behind my back like that?" Natasha nearly yelled. Steve put his hand on her back, hoping to calm her down.

"If you must know, I was on a date." She snapped at Clint. Bucky's gaze suddenly lifted from the ground, meeting hers—jaw clenching.

"How'd you get a date? You've only been out for a few days." Clint questioned. "I ran into a guy at the supermarket; he asked me out; that's all." She lied.

Natasha's anger subsided, and a new priority appeared in her head, "Tell me about him, Mel- how was it?" Suddenly everyone's eyes were on Emilia—waiting on an answer—some expressions different from others.

"He was- fine. He's um.. blonde, a little taller than me, year older. Very extroverted, you know?" She forced a laugh. Natasha raised an eyebrow, not aware that was her type.

Bucky's eyes darkened, and his fist tightened. He was fuming, and he couldn't understand why. "That's- that's nice.." Natasha bluffed. "Whatever makes you happy, Mel," Steve added.

Bucky suddenly stormed out of the room, leaving Emilia and the rest of the group puzzled. "Listen, this was great, but I have my first mission soon; I'm gonna go clear my head in the gym." Emilia said goodbye and excused herself.

She finally got to the gym, only to notice she's not the only one there.

Bucky's fists slammed into the punching bag. Each hit louder than the last. The chain rattled with every blow. The bag swung wildly as if trying to escape. Each punch was a word he couldn't say, a thought he couldn't stop. His knuckles burned, but he didn't care.

The bag swayed and came back, and he hit it again—harder. He was trying to outrun whatever was clawing at him from the inside. Something he couldn't understand. A new feeling—it scared him.

A grunt was let out with every punch. Emilia was getting more concerned with each passing second. What happened? She walked up to him carefully. "You okay?" She asked gently.

He stopped abruptly at the sound of her voice; however, he didn't turn to face her. "I'm fine."

"You don't look it, Bucky." She commented with concern. "Shouldn't you be more preoccupied with your date right now?" He spat with passive anger.

So that's what this is about.

"Nah.. he's not really my type. I like them older anyway." She teased.

Suddenly, Bucky's entire mood shifted. The frown turned to an almost smirk—instantly; an idea popping into his head; "It's funny you should say that—don't know if you've heard—I'm turning 99 soon." He teased back.

It was kind of reassuring to Emilia, knowing that some part of his character from the 40s hasn't changed. There's still a bit of flirtatiousness left in him. Maybe she didn't take it all away.

She laughed at his comment, making him smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Now please leave the punching bag alone and go get ready for the mission." She chuckled. "Yes, Ma'am."

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

Come nighttime, Emilia and Bucky swiftly made their way inside the quinjet; on their way to the Hydra base.

They sat in the two pilot seats, buckling up. Emilia had no idea how to pilot a vehicle, so that task was left up to Bucky.

Emilia's mind was reeling with anxiety, not sure what the outcome of this mission would be.

She worried about the fact that Bucky might spot something that could endanger Hydra's plans. She didn't really care for Hydra on its own, but she was willing to do anything for Yelena.

Bucky's mental state wasn't any better. He was afraid of having to face Hydra again, though he'd never admit it. The only part of this assignment that helped him keep it together was the fact that they won't actually come into contact with them; they'll just watch from above.

It was reassuring to him, having Emilia by his side. He couldn't exactly tell why, but he assumed it was because she understood what he went through—nothing more.

They sat in silence for half an hour, when Emilia thought of a way to kill time. She pulled out her new phone and started looking through the apps and functions, checking what it has to offer.

The phone caught Bucky's interest, making him shift in his seat to get a better look at what she was looking at. She noticed him peeking from her right, making her quietly giggle. She shifted a little, making his view of the phone more clear.

She opened the Facebook app and started scrolling. They came across a video of a cat dancing, and both tilted their heads to the right in confusion.

"How's it doing that?" Bucky asked genuinely. "No clue. It's probably fake. Right?" She asked rhetorically.

They kept staring at the video when Bucky broke the silence, "Lemme see that." He asked, taking his arm out. She handed him the phone, wondering what his great plan is.

He accidentally pressed on the home button, making the phone's assistant, Siri, take over the screen. "What the hell did I press?" He questioned with annoyance.

"Hi! I'm Siri." The phone responded. Both Bucky and Emilia froze, not sure of who or what just spoke. "Who the hell is that? Who's listening?" He asked worriedly."

"I'm your virtual assistant." The woman's voice exclaimed. Emilia grinned with excitement, while Bucky stayed cautious. "That's so sick! Let's ask her something!" Emilia said eagerly.

Bucky stopped her, leaning over to whisper in her ear, making sure the phone couldn't hear him.

"Are we sure we can trust it?" He asked with dead seriousness. She giggled at the comment, and partially because the whisper sent a shiver down her spine.

"Come on, Bucky. Everyone has one of these. Don't worry." She reassured. He leaned back into his seat, nodding his head slightly.

"Hey Suri-" "It's Siri, Bucky." Emilia corrected. Bucky rolled his eyes, "Pretty sure it was Suri— but whatever. Hey Siri, what is a man bun?"

Emilia looked him dead in the eyes. "Really, James?" "What? Sam told me I should try it on— I have no idea what it is." He responded innocently.

Siri showed dozens of images of hipster models posing with perfectly groomed buns. Bucky looked horrified, while Emilia was trying not to laugh.

"Wow—yeah, you should definitely try that out." She teased. Bucky glared at her, trying to look annoyed, but couldn't help but notice how brown her eyes were—making him smile back at her.

"Arriving at destination" The computer called out, shifting the mood immediately.

It's time.

Chapter 7: Cheese Puffs

Emilia and Bucky made themselves comfortable atop the roof of the apartment beside the Hydra base, setting up camping chairs and spy equipment.

Ten minutes fly by as they sit there, in silence once more; Bucky watched the guard by the door carefully, while Emilia got lost in the nighttime sky. She couldn't remember the last time she got to sit outside like this.

"Why do you have a problem with your surname?" Bucky finally broke the silence. It took Emilia a second to process his question. "How did you know?"

That damn AI told on me, didn't it?

"I noticed. You never introduce yourself with it, you never even mentioned it—and Natasha got really jumpy when I asked her about it." He responded calmly.

"You asked Natasha about my surname?" She smiled, but not out of humour—out of disbelief. He only shrugged in response, eyes boring into hers, as if he could read her mind if he stared long enough.

She turned back to face the building in front of her, eyes looking at the stars once more. "I don't know.. It was assigned to me by the Red Room, but I guess I just never felt like I could claim it as my own. Do you know what I mean?" She explained.

He knew all too well. "Yeah... I get that. Trust me, I do." He responded, silence filling the air once more.

More minutes passed by as they watched the base, waiting for something—anything— to happen. Although Emilia knew deep down, nothing would.

It seemed as though seeing this setting gave Bucky flashbacks—and not the kind you'd want to remember.

"You know what's the worst part about all this?" Bucky asked Emilia, eyes still on the guard below them. "What?" She wondered.

"I remember bits and pieces of my life before—you know, some old friends, colleagues—even...but I can't for the life of me remember my parents. And that hurts as much as whatever physical pain Hydra had put me through. Isn't it funny? The human body can be put through the worst kind of physical torture and pull through—but put it through mental warfare, and it eats at you from the inside."

Emilia's breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat, as if her lungs had forgotten how to function. The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy.

Her eyes widened, not in fear, but in a stunned, hollow realisation. It was as though her heart had tripped over itself. She didn't speak. She couldn't. Guilt surged through her, cold and electric, freezing her thoughts in place.

All she could do was stare—at the sky, at Bucky, at nothing—wishing she could rewind time.

"I think I'm mainly afraid of the fact that I'll never actually remember them. I'll never know if I even had parents. I'll never know if I loved them, if I ever learnt how to ride a bike or if I had siblings—I'll never know what colour my mother's eyes were."

Ocean blue. Like yours.

He made sure to keep his emotions in check, not visibly showing the tears that wanted to be let out.

"Why are you telling me this..?" Was all Emilia could say. "I don't know.. since the moment I met you—there was something familiar about you, something comforting. It's probably just a gut feeling, but it's telling me to trust you."

Trust. Trust—me?

The words slammed into Emilia like a freight train, ripping through her chest with cruel precision. No. No, no, no. Her thoughts scrambled, tripping over themselves in a blind panic. He can't say that. Not to me. Not when-

She could feel her throat tighten, heat rising behind her eyes. How can he trust me? How can he look at me with those eyes and not see what I did?

The guilt she had been barely holding at bay surged forward like a dam breaking. Bucky's voice still echoed in her ears—warm, open, sincere—and it made her stomach twist. He doesn't know. God, he doesn't know.

If he ever finds out... if he ever looks at me the way he looks at people who've betrayed him before- Her heart thudded painfully.

She wanted to scream. To confess. To run. To disappear. But all she could do was sit there, nodding like she was worthy of his trust, while inside, her world was caving in.

"Sorry for dumping this all on you—I don't even know where it came from. You don't need to say anything—it just felt nice getting it off my chest." Bucky added, trying hard not to scare her off with too many feelings.

Emilia took out her hand and rested it on Bucky's wrist. Not prepared for the contact, Bucky flinched slightly, making Emilia overthink her action.

"I'm really sorry, Bucky." She tried to comfort him. "Hey, it's fine. It's not your fault." He forced a smile.

How I wish you were right.

"Hey—let's not bring the mood down. How about that surname? You could always do what your sister did—you know; choose a new one. One you can call your own." He suggested with a forced smile.

Emilia tried to brush off what she was feeling—for Bucky. He wanted to change the subject; it was the least she could do for him.

She hasn't really given her surname much thought before—or ever. "A new surname could be nice." She smiled weakly. He nodded his head in response, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Any ideas?" She asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He grinned, his mind being lit up with a thought. "Why don't we..." He slowly pulled out Emilia's phone out of his pocket, "Ask Suri!" "Siri!" Emilia corrected with a chuckle. "And how did you get my phone?"

"I'm good with my hands, Mel—wait, can I call you Mel?" He asked worriedly, not wanting to cross a boundary. "Of course—as long as I can call you Buck.." She grinned. "Deal." He smiled back, not having to force it anymore.

"Now—let's see what the internet has to offer." Bucky started when he noticed Emilia was sitting too far away to see the phone. He leaned to his right, grabbing the leg of her chair, pulling it closer to him.

Emilia tried really hard to keep her composure after that, not sure why, but she felt something in her stomach—something comforting.

He turned on the phone and held it at an angle to make sure she could see. "Hey Siri, give me a list of surnames." Bucky asked the phone, not being able to hide his excitement.

"Hmm.. Smith is—nice?" He tried. "It's so basic, Bucky. No." He understood and moved on. "How about Williams?" He asked next.

"Oh-oh- that's the name of this video character Peter told me about! Ellie Williams. She sounds so sick." Emilia went on rambling, but Bucky listened to every word. Absorbing every detail.

"So that name then?" He questioned. "I don't know.. I feel like I'd associate it with the character. Let's see the other options." She turned her attention back to the list.

"Let's see.. we got: Jones, Brown, Miller, B-" Bucky froze in embarrassment. Barnes. Emilia covered her mouth, trying not to laugh, but a snort managed to escape her grasp.

"I mean—it's a great surname; you can't argue with that." He stated, trying to not make it obvious how flustered he got.

They both started laughing quietly, remembering that they're still on a mission. "I'll probably consult with Natasha on it later. I want to know what her thought process behind changing her name was." Emilia said surely.

Bucky nodded his head in agreement. "Sounds good, Mel." The sound of her name on his lips giving them both a weird sensation. Unexplainable.

Once the conversation went silent once more, Emilia was the one to break it this time. "I'm hungry." "Didn't you eat before the flight? It's been less than two hours." Bucky stated, a little amused.

"Yeah.. and I'm hungry." She stated back. "I would've expected you of all people to be a light eater." Bucky scoffed. "After tasting the amazing, new, diverse pick of food from the twenty-first century, you can't blame me for growing an appetite." She laughed.

"Can't argue with that one." Bucky gave in. She reached for her bag behind the chair—almost falling over when Bucky caught the chair's arm to keep it in place. She seemed completely unfazed.

She grabbed an orange plastic bag and sat back down comfortably. "Check it. This—is the best thing this generation has to offer. Cheese puffs." She grinned.

She burst open the bag, and the cheese aroma filled the air. "God, how artificial is that?" Bucky asked while cringing with his face. "Oh no, no, my friend—this is actually incredibly healthy." She stated.

"Oh yeah?" He let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Mhm. It is great in protein, almost no calories—and if you eat two packs a day, you'll live till you're 90." She teased. "I think I'm all set on that part, Emilia." Bucky smiled, eyes locked in on hers.

"So then you've got nothing to lose." She retorted with a smug face. Bucky raised his eyebrows, "Guess not."

She offered him the bag, wondering how he'd react to them. He reluctantly grabbed a cheese ball out of the bag, dunking it into his mouth. "Wow—it imploded in my mouth." "That's the magic of the puff—you don't have to chew." She grinned.

"These are full of chemicals." He laughed. "If you think about it, everything is made up of chemicals." She added. They locked eyes once more, the air between them shifting. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He admitted and she grinned in victory, making him smile.

Bucky reached over in the bag one more time, wanting to try another one. "Wait—I have an idea." Emilia exclaimed. Bucky raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Check this out—Sam taught me this yesterday." Emilia started, grabbing a puff from the bag.

Bucky watched carefully when she suddenly flung the puff up in the air and caught it in her mouth. Bucky's eyes widened, heavily impressed. "Let me try that." Bucky practically commanded.

Emilia grimaced, turning her chair to face him. He copied her movements and did the same. She grabbed another puff and held it in the air. "You ready?" She asked. "Shoot."

She flung the puff, but it landed on Bucky's forehead. They both let out a laugh. "Try again," he brushed it off. She nodded and took another one. One more fling, but this time—it landed in his mouth.

Both Bucky and Emilia raised their hands in surprise—Emilia yelling out, "Nice!"

Bucky's excitement dropped and fear took over. He quickly put a finger to his mouth, signalling to Emilia that she had to be quiet.

Emilia quickly took the hint, putting her hand over her mouth. Did they hear me?

Emilia's heart was pounding heavily, unsure of what her next move should be. Bucky quickly checked the situation below them. He noticed an additional guard. When did he get here?

Emilia checked on the situation too, after noticing the panic on his face.

The two men were deep in conversation when one of them glanced over to the rooftop.

Can they see us?

Emilia's mind was reeling with thoughts—when the man suddenly turned once more, revealing the gun he was hiding.

Bucky's heart sinks—especially after seeing the man look Emilia's way. He had to think fast. He quickly sprinted over to her side, making sure to keep his head low. He grabbed Emilia by the waist and tried dragging her down below the edges of the rooftop.

Unfortunately—he wasn't fast enough.

The man pulled out and aimed the gun straight at Emilia's shoulder—shooting immediately.

Emilia cried out in pain, propping her back against the parapet wall. Bucky's heart slammed into his ribs as the gunshot echoed in his ears, arms still wrapped around her.

He quickly pulled away, panic flashing before his eyes. "Emilia—no, no, no—" his voice cracked, raw with fear. She winced, clutching her shoulder, and managed a breathless, "I'm fine, it just—it just grazed me... I can't believe he shot me."

He froze, eyes scanning the wound. When he realised she was saying the truth, his shoulders sagged with relief. "God—you scared me, Mel." He let out.

"Sorry?" She tried laughing, but the pain in her shoulder didn't let her. "Can you walk?" "I wasn't shot in the leg—Barnes." She scoffed.

Bucky rolled his eyes, not wanting to deal with her attitude right now. "On the count of three, we run to the door to the staircase—and don't stop on the way down. Got it?" He instructed.

She only nodded in response. He counted up to three, and they both sprinted for the door. Once they reached the staircase, Bucky took out his phone and dialled Tony.

"Hey— we are kind of in a situation..." Bucky started while they quickly made their way down the stairs. "What kind of situation?" Tony's voice came from the other line.

"Emilia got shot—grazed." "What?!" Tony yelled so loud, Emilia could hear it. "We need to get out—now! They must be coming after us right now." Bucky demanded.

"I- the quinjet is an hour out; that won't—wait! There's a safe around three miles away from where you are right now. I'm sending you the location as we speak. Hide out there while we try to get the jet to you." Tony quickly found a solution.

"Got it." Bucky responded, pushing Emilia a little when he noticed she was slowing down. "Take care of her, Barnes." Tony stated. Emilia overheard and grinned, "Tony, you big ol' softie."

"No—Emilia. Your sister would kill me if I let something happen to you." He retorted through the phone. "Sure, Anthony—" Emilia teased when Bucky cut her off, "Thanks, Tony. I'll try. Bye."

He rolled his eyes at Emilia as she grinned mischievously, as though she had forgotten about the gunshot wound in her shoulder.

Notes:

I loved using Brooklyn nine-nine references so much :)

Chapter 8: Baby Blanket

The walk to the safe house wasn't pleasant. It was barely even a walk. A sprint, rather. It was hard for Emilia to keep up with a super soldier—even harder when you have a shoulder that's bleeding out. With every passing minute she felt weaker.

To make matters worse, it started to lightly rain a few minutes after they left the building. Emilia was freezing—having only worn a thin long-sleeve shirt. She didn't expect this weather—which was insane considering it's nearing the end of autumn.

She started shivering, making her condition worsen. Bucky noticed, of course. He immediately took off his leather jacket and helped her put it on. She only weakly smiled in return.

"Come on, Mel—keep up. We're almost there." He encouraged. "I'm tired, Buck." She whined. "Emilia, get it together. You're losing too much blood. I'm not letting you pass out in the middle of nowhere." He grabbed her left hand and started pulling her with him.

It's almost as though that contact gave Emilia motivation to keep moving. She started running with him, smiling when she finally saw the house from afar. It was practically hidden in the middle of the woods, making it practically unfindable without coordinates. The rain seemed to get worse with every passing second—a storm brewing.

As they approached the house, Emilia tripped on a rock she didn't see, but Bucky caught her just in time—pulling the hand he was holding up and using his other hand to help support her by the waist. Once she stood up, he immediately pulled the hand away from her waist, his right hand still holding her left.

They both quickly brushed it off and ran to the door. They typed in the password Tony sent them and opened the door. It didn't come as a shock to either of them when the password turned out to be 'America's ass'.

Inside, the air was cool and slightly damp. Shadows stretched across the small room, and the faint scent of old wood, earth, and dust lingered. The fireplace was cold, with a few pieces of dry wood stacked nearby, waiting. The couch had a blanket draped over it. It looked untouched for weeks.

Emilia let go of Bucky's hand as they stepped inside, both of their hands feeling like something was missing. "Ooh, look—a fireplace! Let's light it up." Emilia said excitedly and headed towards it, when bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her the other way. "Not now, Emilia. I need to check that wound first." Bucky commanded.

"Boring..." She scoffed as she sat down on the couch, watching Bucky grab a first aid kit out of a cabinet. Tony must've told him where it was.

He then joined her momentarily, sitting on her right, where her wound was. The side of her shirt was completely drenched in blood, which worried Bucky.

"Take off the jacket." He told her. She hesitated, "Bucky, the cut isn't that deep. I'm f-" "Take it off, Mel."

Her breath hitched at the nickname. She carefully took off the jacket, wincing as the fabric pulled away from the wound. After examining the wound, he started rummaging through the first aid kit.

Emilia watched the side of his face, jaw clenched tight. When he looked her way again, he met her gaze for a beat too long before reaching for the scissors.

"I'm going to have to cut a part of your shirt. Is that okay?" He asked worriedly. "Well I ain't undressing—go for it." She scoffed. In that moment, Bucky realised Emilia's coping mechanism was humour.

He carefully made his way with the scissors from the collar of her shirt, dragging it down till her bicep. That action made a little more blood pour out, making Emilia nauseous. "Oh, god..." She turned away. "Hey—hey. You're okay," He reassured under a whisper, "Like you said, it's just a graze." She looked back at him, nodding.

He put the scissors down and grabbed a cloth. "I'm gonna try to stop the bleeding—or at least slow it down." He informed her, then firmly pressed the cloth over the wound. "Breathe." He tried helping, their faces close now. Emilia's focus shifted from the pain to the look of worry on his face.

He then took a new piece of cloth and dabbed it in iodine. "This is going to sting." He muttered, already dabbing the iodine on the raw edge of her skin. She flinched, biting her lip. He noticed her reaction and grabbed her hand with his right arm, holding it tightly. She seemed to calm down a little at the gesture, tightening her grip.

He then grabbed the gauze pad and applied it to the wound, taping it down gently—not letting go of her hand the whole time. "That should hold. I'll have to change it later. You okay?" He asked with genuine concern.

She turned to look at him as she let out a sigh. "I'm fine. Thank you." She smiled, followed by a shiver moments later. That reminded Bucky what he had to do.

"Don't move." He quickly got up, hands parting—making a hollow ache bloom in his chest. Warmth slipping from his fingers into the cold, leaving behind a silence that screamed her absence.

He made his way to the fireplace in front of the couch, throwing the logs inside and pulling out a lighter out of his pocket. He lit it up and blew on it gently to spread the fire.

He took a step back, turning to face Emilia, who was heavily intrigued in what he was doing with a wide smile on her face. "Cool... How'd you know blowing helps?" She asked with curiosity.

"I don't know.. I just kind of felt like it did. Must be a part of another memory Hydra took from me." He half smiled. "Right.." Emilia looked disturbed by the reminder of what she'd done.

Bucky assumed her mood shifted because of the pain in her shoulder. He walked back up to the couch and grabbed the blanket from beside Emilia, throwing it over her—tucking her in.

"I'm not a baby, Bucky." She laughed. "You just got shot. You don't get to choose your fate right now." "Yes, Sarge." She teased. He rolled his eyes in response, pretending he didn't like the nickname.

He then walked up to his bag and took out a clean sweater. “You should change. Your shirt is drenched in rain and blood,” Bucky stated as he handed her the shirt.

She cautiously eyed the shirt, reluctantly taking it. She slowly started taking off her shirt, catching Bucky off guard. He quickly made a one-eighty turn to face the wall, eyes shut. “Could’ve given me a heads up.” He scoffed.

“You told me to change—I’m changing.” She stated the obvious. “I didn’t mean immediately!” He exclaimed. Emilia only laughed in response, making him laugh too.

“I’m done.” She let him know, and he turned back around. He noticed how big the crewneck looked on Emilia, making him snort. She pretend-frowned at his mocking, hiding her face in the neck of the sweater. Her nose got filled with the aroma of plums and nickels.

Bucky's phone suddenly rang. He picked up the phone to be greeted by Tony's voice, "Barnes—listen. The storm is making it really hard for the quinjet to reach you two. It won't be able to take off until the storm settles over. Do you think you guys can hang in there till then?"

Bucky's eyes met Emilia's as she studied his face, trying to figure out what Tony had told him. "Yeah—okay, sure." He hung up the phone.

"What happened? Is the jet here already?" Emilia couldn't hide her disappointment, slightly reassuring Bucky. "The jet can't come until the storm settles over." He shrugged. "Oh... alright." She said, deep down, hoping the storm never ends.

"You should get some rest." Bucky instructed. "Let's check out the rooms!" Emilia exclaimed. She was about to stand up when Bucky offered her his hand. She accepted the offer and let him pull her up. She smiled shyly and ran off down the hallway. However, she only spotted one bedroom. "Tony Stark has a one-bedroom safe house? What a joke." She scoffed, Bucky close behind.

She pushed open the door, admiring the cosy-looking bedroom and the well-made queen-sized bed. "Oh." Was all Emilia said.

One bed? I can't make him sleep on the couch—I should do it.

Bucky chuckled, "Take the bed." "What? No- you take it." Emilia retorted. "Trust me, Mel. Take it." "I don't want to make you sleep on the couch, Bucky." She stated. Bucky stared at her for a moment before responding, "Emilia... I won't really use the couch." "What?" She questioned.

"It's too soft. Bed or couch." He explained, staring at the floor. Emilia paused, trying to figure out what he meant but came up short. She tilted her head in confusion. "I haven't slept in a bed in seventy years, Mel. It's unfamiliar, I guess." He tried elaborating further.

Emilia mentally scolded herself for not knowing sooner. "Buck- I'm so sorry, I didn't think—" Bucky quickly cut her off with a slight chuckle, "Don't sweat it—you couldn't have known. Make yourself comfortable. I'm gonna go to the bathroom; I'll be right back." He left the room and disappeared into the hallway.

Emilia still felt guilty for not knowing, so she thought she could make herself useful and grab a pillow and two blankets from the couch, setting up a place for him to sleep by the right side of the bed. Bucky came back a minute later, noticing the setup on the floor. He smiled in amusement, "You didn't have to do this." "I know." She grinned.

"So I'm spending the night here?" He asked, assuming she would've had him sleep in the living room. "Well, yeah... We don't know who's lurking in the shadows outside—you know. I think it's smart for us to stick together. You know—for safety." She tried to justify.

Bucky tried covering up his smile, "Right—smart." He agreed. "Exactly." Emilia nodded.

Just for that moment, time stopped. The air around them stopped moving. His gaze got lost in her eyes, the tension between them growing.

Emilia felt the mood shift, dragging her eyes to the floor immediately. "So... we should probably sleep." She reminded. "Oh—right. Sleep."

She climbed into the bed, shifting over to the right side and drowning herself in the blanket. He made his way to his own little setup and lay down.

"Good night." Emilia muttered. "Night." He responded.

An hour flied by. Bucky seemed to be asleep, while Emilia was wide awake. She had tried everything but couldn't fall asleep—the things Bucky told her about his parents still haunting her.

She turned to the right, peeking over the bed to see Bucky below her. He looked so—peaceful. She lied there, just watching him sleep.

He suddenly started flinching—sweating. Twisting and turning. It only took Emilia a second to realise he was having a nightmare.

She panicked, thinking of how she should handle this. She could've used her powers to help him sleep—but then he'd know. She was specifically instructed to keep it a secret.

She quickly got out of the bed and sat next to him, contemplating what to do. She knew it was dangerous to wake up a super soldier when he's having a nightmare—let alone the Winter Soldier.

She was about to touch his shoulder when he suddenly jolted upright—gasping for air. He immediately saw someone on his right and flinched to the left, hitting the bed frame.

"Hey—it's just me." She smiled. He seemed to relax once he processed it was Emilia, finally catching his breath. "Sorry—I didn't mean to wake you." He apologised, eyes still holding the fear of what he had just seen.

"Don't worry; I wasn't sleeping." She reassured. "Why not?" He looked puzzled. She ran her hand through her hair, "Same as you." She half-lied. Bucky nodded in understanding, throwing his head on the mattress of the bed.

They both knew they weren't going to fall back asleep. "Do you want to do something?" Emilia asked. "What do you have in mind?"

She smiled mischievously and ran to the kitchen. Bucky looked incredibly confused, swiftly following her. He finally caught up and saw her standing behind the kitchen island, hands on the counter.

"If you wanted food, you could've just said so, Mel." He stated—still not fully recovered from the nightmare. "No, James. We are going to bake!" She exclaimed.

Bucky stared at her for a moment before speaking up, "It's the middle of the night, Emilia. And I don't know how to bake."

"It's the middle of the day in Europe. That counts." She shrugged. "And anyway—you don't need to know how. All we need is a recipe." She stated.

"And I don't know any recipes." He added.

Truth was, he did. In one of his memories, he told Emilia about these chocolate-chipped cookies his mum used to make for him. Naturally having told her that—he forgot about it.

Emilia felt guilty for taking even such a small detail away from him. She wondered if he'd remember them if she baked them for him. He told her how his mum made it for him in vivid detail. Emilia never forgot.

"That's fine. I know one." She smiled up at him. Bucky sighed in defeat as he watched her get ingredients out of the shelves. "Can you bring me the chocolate chips out of my bag? It's by the front door." She asked Bucky.

He scoffed, "Why on earth do you have chocolate chips in your bag?" "I like to snack on them. Don't judge me, Barnes." She pouted.

He shook his head and walked over to the entrance, grabbing her bag. He grabbed the chips when he got a phone call. He pulled out his phone, still in his pocket, and answered the call.

Tony started talking in a raspy voice, seeming to have just woken up. "James, the storm's over now; they can come and get you two."

Bucky paused, looking back at Emilia in the kitchen, humming a song excitedly. She looked up at him, noticing him staring, and smiled at him.

"You know, Tony—We are both pretty tired right now, and Emilia needs to rest because of her shoulder... I think it's best if you come in the morning." He explained in a whisper. "No problem. I'll let them know." Tony hung up.

Bucky put the phone away, his eyes not leaving Emilia. "Who was that?" She asked as he walked up to her.

"Just Sam messing around. Don't worry about it." He bluffed with a smile. "Alright." She grinned as he handed her the chips.

Notes:

Can you guys tell I rewatched Brooklyn nine-nine 16 times?

Chapter 9: Sound Hazard

"Can you pass the maple syrup?" Emilia asked Bucky while she whisked the butter and sugar in a bowl. "Since when is there maple syrup in cookies?" Bucky asked with interest while passing over the syrup.

Emilia remembered Bucky saying his mum added a drizzle of maple syrup in the bowl with butter, but she couldn't tell him that. "My mum's special recipe." She fibbed.

Bucky nodded with a half smile, putting up a front for Emilia, but she saw through it.

Bucky was in charge of mixing the dry ingredients, making a mess with every whisk—flour filling the air. "Be—careful, Bucky!" Emilia laughed. "More gentle."

He listened to her advice and tried to carefully whisk the ingredients, not getting it everywhere anymore. "There you go—good job, Buck." She smiled, poking her elbow in his arm.

Bucky's heart softened at the words, not used to being praised—let alone for something so small. A real smile appeared on his face now.

"You want to listen to something?" Emilia asked. "Please, nothing modern." Bucky chuckled. "Don't worry—I don't keep up with modern music anyway. Classics all the way. ABBA and Queen—" "What? You cannot be serious. Those are notclassics, Emilia."

"How can you even say that?!" She exclaimed, mouth agape. "Glenn Miller—Duke Ellington! Those are classics." "Do you even know what their music sounds like?" Emilia scoffed.

"Sam played me some of it. It doesn't compare." He shrugged, turning his eyes back to the bowl. Emilia felt heavilydisrespected. She grabbed a handful of flour out of the bag and flicked it at Bucky's face.

For the first few seconds, Bucky didn't move. Not an inch. He then slowly turned his head to Emilia.

"You're dead." He stated—seconds later grabbing a handful himself. Emilia immediately bolted around the kitchen island, trying to escape him as he started chasing her.

They went back and forth in circles until Bucky finally caught up with Emilia, grabbing her wrist. She tried to wiggle her way out of it, but it was pointless. She got pulled into his grasp, hitting against his chest. He wrapped his metal arm around her waist, making any chance of escape impossible.

He raised his hand filled with flour right in front of her face—mocking her with her inevitable fate. "Wait—wait! I forgot to mention... Frank Sinatra is my favourite artist." She tried saving herself in hopes of sparing her the cleanup of flour in her ears.

He paused for a moment—contemplating. Moments later loosened his grasp and let her go. "That—I can't argue with." He smiled, wiping the flour off his face. Frank Sinatra being a common ground for the two was unexpected, but they were happy with the outcome.

She stepped away from Bucky, turning around to face him. "Now—can I please put Queen on?" She pleaded with puppy dog eyes. The eyes Bucky couldn't say no to.

"Fine. It better be good." He rolled his eyes as she grinned, running to get her phone.

She finally found the song she was looking for after searching the internet for a few minutes and pressed play.

The song Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy started playing from the speakers of her phone on max volume.

She hopped on back to the kitchen, excited to sing the song that she'd been dying to hear ever since she got taken by the Red Room. Bucky only watched her with amusement.

"I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things—We can do the tango just for two. I can serenade and gently play on your heartstrings—Be your Valentino just for you." She sang dramatically, expressing the words with her hands while looking at Bucky.

Bucky stopped what he was doing and put his entire attention on her, a smile creeping up on him. "Are you judging me?" She raised an eyebrow. "No—Mel. Do your thing." He encouraged.

She shrugged him off and continued singing, this time getting closer to him. "I'd like for you and I to go romancing. Say the word, your wish is my command!" She sang with feeling.

Bucky felt all sorts of emotions in that moment. For the song—for the distance between them—for her. Yet, he couldn't understand what it was.

Emilia seemed unfazed by the lyrics of the song, not truly associating it with Bucky—but that made the signals very mixed for him. He chose to ignore the meaning and just kept listening to her sing—he quite enjoyed her singing.

"Ooh, love. Ooh, loverboy— What're you doin' tonight? Hey, boy!" She kept singing, now holding the whisk as a microphone.

Bucky couldn't help but laugh. He liked that she didn't care about how she acted around him. Made him wonder if she felt safe near him. He could only hope.

That went on for the entirety of the song. Emilia looked out of breath by the end of it. "Here." Bucky offered her a cup of water. He poured it before she finished singing—knowing she was going to need it.

She quickly took the cup and chugged down the water. "I missed that." She said quietly with a smile, looking at the now empty cup in her hands. "Looked like it." He said with a grin while looking at her. "Didn't know you could sing."

"What—no! I— maybe? I don't know.. I just kind of always sang from the heart. Didn't care whether it was good or not." She laughed.

"Yelena used to call me a sound hazard when we were little." She laughed. The laugh holding more grief rather than joy. "You never talk about her." He pointed out.

She paused, looking up at him. "We don't really talk." She smarted her way around it. "We're talking now."

She sighed, sitting down in a chair. She tried not to think about Yelena when she was around Bucky—knowing it would just make her feel even guiltier.

"She—she was like being bathed in sunlight. She was so kind—and sweet—and generous. We found a snail once, when she was 5–it had a cracked shell. She tried everything in her power to patch him up. Taping, gluing—you name it. She accidentally killed him in the process." Emilia scoffed.

"Yelena was so devastated—we had to throw him a funeral. She named him Bob. She was too innocent for this world. The Red Room killed that part of her." She said, emotionless.

"When we find her—you'll get back that snail-murdering-saviour. I'm sure I'd love to meet her." He smiled at her reassuringly, his hand grazing her shoulder.

That one action almost hurt as much as the bullet.

It hit her like a train that they'd never meet. Whatever she chose to do, she'd never forgive herself for it. It was the worst possible case of a lose-lose situation.

She faked a smile in return, going back to baking—combining the wet and dry ingredients in the bigger bowl. "I'm sure you would."

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

Thirty minutes later, the cookies were done. Emilia burnt her hand trying to get them out of the oven, making Bucky push her away from it and grabbing it himself; his metal arm undismayed by the heat.

They picked off the cookies from the tray and threw them into a bowl. Emilia picked one up and practically shoved it in Bucky's face. "Try it." She insisted. He chuckled and bit the pastry.

A wave of emotions struck him all at once. Familiarity, love—home. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He just sat there, completely zoned out. "Are they that bad...?" Emilia slowly asked with a concerned pout, now standing up.

After waiting a second with no response, she dragged the cookie back down in defeat—upset it didn't help the way she thought it would—when suddenly, Bucky grabbed the wrist that was holding the pastry. Not tight—but soft.

"They're amazing, Mel." His gaze looked up to find hers. "Really??" She exclaimed, her smile returning. "I can't explain it, but—it tastes like home. There's now this blurry image of my mother in my head—like it's slowly building a picture."

The smile on his face was the widest Emilia has ever seen. The pure joy and hope made her heart hurt. After looking at her for a few more moments, he quickly got up from his seat and pulled her into a warm embrace.

Emilia froze for a heartbeat, caught off guard, her muscles tense beneath his touch. But then she exhaled—a soft, shaky breath that cracked something open between them.

She doesn't hug like someone used to it; her arms are hesitant, slow to rise. But when they do, they clutch the back of his jacket like it's the only thing keeping her anchored—as if letting go might undo the fragile moment entirely.

Bucky's breath hitched. He pulled her just a little closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck—not to hide, not really, but because it felt like the only place in the world that didn't expect him to be unbreakable. His hands trembled against her back, the weight of everything he'd been through since the fall from the train resting in that quiet space between them.

Neither of them said a word. There were no quips, no comments—just the quiet press of two people who had been broken in different ways, finally letting the weight of it rest in someone else's arms.

That hug felt like an eternity. Neither of them had any idea how much they needed it.

Emilia was the first to pull away, her eyes meeting his immediately. She noticed something in them—almost a glimmer. Easy to miss, but it's there. His eyes glistened with tears he refused to let out.

"I'm really glad you liked them." She whispered, smile softening. "You have no idea how much that meant to me." He muttered.

Emilia was overjoyed, feeling proud of herself for the first time in a while.

Bucky couldn't help but feel so grateful for having met Emilia—knowing he'd be brooding at the compound right now if it wasn't for her. It was like she brought this spark into his life, burning away the bad thoughts.

"Let's go sit." She stated, pointing at the couch—grabbing the bowl of cookies with her. He nodded, and they made their way over.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking over everything. "You wanna watch something?" Emilia piped up. Bucky turned to look at her, "Anything in mind?" He bent over to grab another cookie.

"Apparently I need to check out Game of Thrones, so we could watch that?" She suggested. "I have no clue what that is, but I trust you. Play it." Emilia grinned and turned on the television.

They got through three episodes by the time the sun came up. Emilia's brain stopped processing the words coming from the screen, mind slowly shutting off, going into slumber.

Bucky noticed her falling asleep and turned off the television. He went to grab the blanket from the bed and gently covered her with it.

He himself couldn't go back to sleep. Now that Emilia was asleep, it reminded him of the nightmare he had earlier. He couldn't tell her about it because she was in it.

He was afraid of her getting hurt—even more afraid of getting hurt by him. If he ever let something happen to her—Winter Soldier or not—he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. Ever.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

"Mel. Wake up." Bucky nudged Emilia in her unharmed shoulder. She immediately jumped up, forgetting where she was. "They're here." He continued. "What? Who's here?" She asked, rubbing her eyes.

Bucky smiled, "The jet—Mel." He explained. "What? Already? What time is it?" "It's ten-thirteen." He answered. "Did you sleep?" She tilted her head in question.

"Yeah, a little bit." He lied. "Good." She smiled, knowing deep down he's bluffing. "Wait—what happened to Daenerys? Is she okay?" Emilia remembered about the episode they paused at. "She's fine, Emilia. Get your stuff." He laughed.

She rolled her eyes and got up. She noticed how there were no more cookies left on the plate and grinned. "Обжора. (Fat ass.)" she muttered under her nose with a laugh.

"What did you just call me?" Bucky piped up from the kitchen, narrowing his eyes at her. "Shit—I forgot you know Russian. Sorry?" "Yeah, yeah..." Bucky scoffed, turning away to hide his smirk.

After packing up and getting ready, Emilia headed for the door. She suddenly paused by the doorframe, thinking. "I think I forgot something." She turned around to look at Bucky, who was holding her phone in his hand—shaking it.

"Отстань. (Piss off.)" She scoffed, grabbing her phone. She turned back around when she heard a crinkle come from behind. She turned around yet again and saw Bucky shaking her bag of chocolate chips, mocking her forgetfulness yet again.

She bit the insides of her cheeks, trying her best not to make some snarky comment. "You'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on." He teased. She ripped the bag out of his hands and walked out of the door dramatically.

Already having two pilots at the wheel, Emilia and Bucky sat in the back of the jet this time, sitting side by side.

Emilia nudged him in the shoulder, offering an earphone to share. He reluctantly grabbed it and put it in his right ear. He was relieved when he heard a familiar voice singing.

"I thought since you like Sinatra too, it's only fair I show you the music he made after the 40s. You have no idea what you're missing out on." She grinned. Bucky smiled gently and immersed himself in the music.

"This one's my favourite.." she half smiled and played The World We Knew. She hummed along to the song the whole time, thinking it's too early in the day to sing.

She played a mobile game while she hummed, so she didn't notice Bucky slowly falling asleep beside her. His head dipped, eyelids heavy, until the weight of exhaustion finally pulled him into stillness—his head falling on Emilia's shoulder.

Emilia flinched—not prepared for that. She quickly analysed the situation and relaxed when she realised he had fallen asleep to Frank Sinatra. When, in fact, he had fallen asleep to her humming.

Notes:

If you guys haven't heard these songs before, go listen to them ASAP and I'm not even exaggerating. Missing out :/

(I’m writing an entire chapter every day—I’m going insane)

Chapter 10: Needles

"When is she getting here?" Natasha asked worriedly. "Any minute now." Steve reassured. They both stood by the entrance to the compound, waiting for Emilia and Bucky to come back.

Tony had only informed Natasha about Emilia's incident when she woke up, knowing that she wouldn't go to sleep otherwise.

Moments later, the pair walked through the entrance, bags in hand. Bucky looked more tired than usual—the nap he took in the jet showed. 

Natasha ran up to her and immediately started checking her face, hands and legs—trying to figure out where the gunshot wound was. "Are you okay? Where is the wound?" "Nat—I'm fine. It just grazed my shoulder." She shrugged.

Natasha slowly turned to the right, now looking Bucky dead in the eyes. "How could you let this happen, Barnes? You had one job." She spat. "It wasn't his fault, I swear. He couldn't have done anything. Matter of fact—it would've actually hit my shoulder if it wasn't for him." Emilia tried defending.

"You are never to leave the house with this guy again." Natasha firmly stated. "What? You can't say that—you're not Mum." Emilia laughed in disbelief, while Bucky watched the entire exchange with petrified eyes. He signalled to Steve to help, but he just shrugged, knowing he can't tell Natasha what to do.

"I'm taking you to Bruce—let him check out the wound." She added. "Not until I get some food in my system." Emilia scoffed. "Fine... but right after. Okay?" She pushed. Emilia nodded with a smile.

Natasha grabbed her hand and dragged her away. Emilia rolled her eyes as she let the redhead take her, looking back at Bucky and mouthing 'I'm sorry'.

Steve chuckled as he walked up to Bucky, patting him on the back. "You're screwed." He whispered in Bucky's ear as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Emilia, Steve—what do you guys want to eat?" Natasha asked, purposefully ignoring Bucky. "Real mature, Nat." Emilia stated with a frown.

"Fine... What do you all want?" She rolled her eyes. Emilia half-smiled and looked at the guys. They exchanged looks and shrugged. "Why do I bother? I'm making pancakes." Natasha stated. Emilia grinned and went to grab the ingredients.

Bucky and Steve sat at the kitchen island, facing the stove where Emilia and Natasha got to work. Emilia didn't know how to make pancakes, but she hoped Natasha would teach her.

"So how did the mission go? Aside from the—you know.." Steve asked Emilia and Bucky. "It was fine." Bucky stated, eyes on the back of Emilia's head. Emilia agreed with a hum.

Steve suddenly piped down, whispering to Bucky, "Hey... How awkward was it at the safe house?" He asked with a pitiful smile. Bucky choked on air—not sure how to answer that. "Uh—It wasn't really awkward... She's fun to be around." He quietly said back.

"Who are you and what did you do with Bucky?" Steve laughed. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at the blond, "What do you mean?" "Fun to be around? You've been avoiding fun like the plague since you got here."

Bucky froze, realising Steve was right. He didn't realise how much Emilia had changed him in one night. Maybe it wasn't change; maybe it was a piece of his old self resurfacing. It was an exciting thought—the chance of getting that part of himself back.

"Things change, Stevie." He smiled softly. Emilia turned back as she heard the nickname. "Stevie?" She laughed. "Oh god, not you too." Steve covered his face with his hands in embarrassment. Natasha and Bucky laughed as they got yet another person to call him that.

"How do you do that?" Emilia asked Natasha as she flipped a pancake. "Years of experience, Em." She joked. "Надоелa ты уже... (I'm tired of you already...)" Emilia scoffed.

"Да ладно? (Oh, really?)" The redhead raised an eyebrow. "Who would be making you food right now if it wasn't for me?" She smarted. Emilia went quiet, thinking of the drug-laced porridge she'd probably be eating right now if she wasn't assigned this mission.

Natasha noticed the change in her mood, understanding what she must have been thinking about. "Hey—wanna do my hair? For old times sake?" Natasha asked with a smile.

"French braid?" She grinned with a mouth full of pancakes. Natasha nodded eagerly. Emilia put the pancake down and wiped her hands, standing behind Natasha.

She was halfway done with the braid when Bucky spoke up, "How do you do that?" Emilia and Steve turned to look at him, confused. "You want one too, Barnes?" She mocked. "What? No—no. It's just impressive." He shrugged.

Steve raised an eyebrow, not saying anything—just thinking. Thinking about his drastic change in character. "I used to do Natasha's and Yelena's hair all the time when we were young. Neither of them could ever do it as well as me." She gloated.

"It's true. I've been trying to braid my hair on my own all these years—it looked like I did it in the dark." She laughed. Emilia felt a small sense of reassurance for that—knowing some part of their relationship wasn't replaced.

"You should totally do Bucky's next." Steve grinned. Bucky's eyes widened in fear. "Absolutely not." "Is that not why you kept that hair? For this exact opportunity?" Steve teased.

Everyone except Bucky started laughing, picturing him in a braid or a ponytail. "I am not getting a braid." He stated firmly, this time looking at Emilia. "How about a man bun?" She mocked in remembrance of the 'Siri' incident.

Steve's eyes widened as he turned from Emilia to Bucky. "I will pay.. to see you in a man bun." He said with dead seriousness. Emilia finally finished with the braid and now brought her entire attention to Bucky, standing parallel to him, hands firmly on the island.

"What do you say, Barnes?" She narrowed her eyes at him. He thought about it for a moment, really not wanting a bun, but there was one advantage that would come from it. Just one.

"How much you gonna pay me?" Bucky turned to look at Steve. "Ten bucks." Steve named his price. Bucky looked back at Emilia, noticing the smirk she's trying to hide. "Fine. Once." Both Natasha and Steve turned to look at Bucky, grins on their faces.

Natasha pulled out a plate full of pancakes, finishing just in time, and put them on the island. "Get to work, Mel." Natasha laughed. Emilia shot Bucky a wicked smile and walked up behind him.

He flinched as she touched his hair—shoulders tensing, not used to anyone touching it. She tried to be more gentle after she noticed his reaction. She carefully glided her hand down his hair—smoothing it out. He seemed to relax at the action, shoulders dropping.

She dragged her hands from his forehead into a fist, collecting his hair. She tied it into a bun and unfurled it. She took a step back to admire her work, nodding once she was happy with it. She walked back over to where she was originally standing, wanting to see what it looked like from the front.

Steve grinned as he checked him out from the side. "Lookin' good, Barnes." Steve teased. Natasha snorted at the comment. Bucky gave Steve a death glare, already contemplating whether he should've gone through with it or not, when Emilia spoke up.

"I agree." She grinned. Bucky's head snapped to her direction. They locked eyes as she winked at him. That wink did something to him—something obscure. He felt less self-conscious of himself in that moment, having her approval.

Steve and Natasha exchanged looks at their interaction, not sure what was going through their heads. Steve coughed, bringing back their attention. "So—uhm. Mission report?" He changed the subject.

Bucky cleared his throat before responding, "The exchange didn't end up taking place. The intel was wrong. They did notice us on the roof, though, hence—the gunshot." He looked at Emilia once more.

"They didn't follow you?" Steve questioned. "We ran straight to the safe house; maybe they couldn't catch up?" Emilia bluffed, knowing they didn't go after them. "Yeah... maybe." Steve answered, not entirely convinced by her answer.

"Bad first impression for a mission, huh?" Natasha added. "It wasn't all bad." Emilia smiled. "It's amusing to me how you managed to get hurt at the one mission where it's near impossible." Natasha grinned.

"Yeah, yeah—make fun all you want." She pouted, grabbing a pancake. "You guys up for a movie night later tonight?" Steve chimed in. "Always. Who's joining?" Emilia answered.

"We're getting the majority of the team to join. Should be fun." Natasha shrugged. "Is there enough space on the couch for that many people?" Bucky spoke up.

Natasha and Steve looked at each other, exchanging grins. "Who said anything about the couch?" The redhead queried. Emilia and Bucky both tilted their heads to the right in confusion.

"You really think the cinephile Tony Stark doesn't have a private cinema in this enormous compound?" Natasha grinned. Emilia was stunned, mouth agape.

"I've been here for days now, and you only tell me this now?!" Emilia exclaimed. Natasha had forgotten how much Emilia loved movies growing up. "Sorry?" She cringed.

Emilia playfully hit Natasha on the shoulder. "What movie are you guys planning to watch? Something new?" She asked. "I'm glad you asked. There's this movie that came out a few years ago... a musical. You'll love it." Natasha replied.

"A musical? Any music I know?" She questioned. The redhead grinned before answering, "The best of ABBA." "What?? You're lying." She said in disbelief. "I swear on Fanny." Natasha laughed.

That line gave Emilia a reality check. Reminding her of the situation she was in. Remembering the mission.

"What's a Fanny?" Steve questioned. "It's personal, Stevie." Natasha teased. "You know what, Romanoff?" He bantered.

"Hey—Mel. Finish your food, and let's get you checked up, yeah?" Bucky chimed in. "Yes, Sarge." She scoffed, earning a smile from Bucky.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

Emilia analysed her surroundings as they made their way into the medical room. She felt nauseous just having to sit on the examination table.

She never liked doctors. The same people who took away her only chance at having kids. Every time she'd remember about it, she'd get reminded of the monster that she was.

She tried to give Bruce the benefit of the doubt when meeting him, ignoring the fact that he's a doctor. However, that was very difficult at the moment.

"You took good care of the wound, Emilia. There's no infection." Bruce stated as he analysed the injury.

"You patched yourself up?" Natasha questioned. "Uh—no. Bucky helped." Emilia explained, eyes looking anywhere but at her sister. Natasha raised an eyebrow in intrigue but didn't ask.

"I'm going to need a sample of your blood to make sure everything's in check." He added. Emilia immediately backed away when she saw Bruce pull out a syringe, grabbing Natasha's arm.

"Hey—it's okay. It's just a precaution." Natasha reassured. Emilia knew she couldn't let them test her blood. She knew what they'd find. She'd be compromised.

"Please, don't. I—I'm terrified of needles." She shuddered. "It doesn't help that it brings back old memories..." she bluffed. Natasha consoled her, grabbing her hand. "It's okay, Mel. No one is going to make you do something you don't want. Not here."

Good. She fell for it.

"Thanks, Nat." She faked a smile. "I still can't believe you got shot, though. How did you let that happen?" Natasha asked with intrigue. "I don't know... wasn't focused, I guess." She shrugged.

Natasha paused to think, narrowing her eyes at Emilia. "Hey, Bruce? Would you mind giving us a moment?" She asked politely. He looked back and forth between them before nodding.

There was a beat of silence as he walked out of the room. "Cut the bullshit, Emilia. They'd throw you in the hole for messing up this badly in the Red Room. You don't slip up—not like this. What really happened?" The redhead demanded.

The truth was, Emilia was completely unaware that they were going to shoot at her. She had no reason to think they would. She had her guard down. She now knew to never let it down again.

"Bucky and I were messing around with cheese puffs when it happened—it took us by surprise." She said shyly, fidgeting with her hands. Natasha sat next to Emilia and nudged her in the arm.

"What's up with you two?" She wondered. Emilia's face went red. "Wh-what? What do you mean? Do you know something?" "You guys have this weird dynamic going. Is there something you're not telling me?" She narrowed her eyes once more.

Emilia tried thinking of a way to get out of this situation, relying on one thing that could turn the tables on her sister. "I could ask you the same thing about Rogers." She tilted her head.

They both glared at each other for a moment, as if trying to read one another's minds. "I raised you well." Natasha grinned. "Excuse me? You raised me?" Emilia asked in disbelief.

"I basically did all the work." The redhead shrugged. "If anyone raised me—it was Star Wars." Emilia scoffed. The two broke into laughter as the tension faded, leaving only nostalgia lingering in the air.

Notes:

Sorry to the man bun lovers, but it’s not staying :/ please forgive me!!

Chapter 11: Mamma Mia

Notes:

I highly advise you guys to watch Mamma Mia if you haven't seen it yet, but don't worry—there are no spoilers if you didn't. (It's a great movie, though—go watch it.)
Or at least watch the "Mamma Mia SOS scene" on YouTube.

(There will be spoilers on The Notebook though, but they’re kind of general.)

"When's everyone getting there?" Emilia asked curiously as she walked over to the private cinema with Natasha—Bucky and Steve following behind.

"Peter, Wanda and Vision are already seated. Clint is in there making the popcorn, Bruce is on his way and Tony's setting up the movie." Natasha walked her through, checking the messages on her phone.

"Will Thor be here?" Steve asked. "Nope. Asgard business." Natasha scoffed. "I always wanted to meet Thor. He seems so cool." Emilia exclaimed.

"Looks like he got himself another fan girl." Steve laughed looking at Bucky, only Bucky wasn't laughing. His jaw clenched at her words, gaze burning into the back of her head.

Emilia was awestruck when they finally entered the cinema, admiring the architecture and cosiness of the room. It had seats for fifteen people—put out in three rows.

Emilia ran to the middle row, immediately claiming the middle seat. "How selfless of you." Natasha teased as she sat on her right. "It's her first time, Nat. Let her enjoy it." Steve defended. Emilia grinned at Natasha and wiggled her eyebrows at his comment.

Steve went to sit next to Natasha, leaving only two free spots—both by Emilia. Bucky made his way to the seat right next to her—not saying a word.

"You can stop your waiting—I'm here!" Sam called out as he entered the room. Natasha shot her head at him in confusion, "I thought you couldn't make it." She stated. "Plans changed. You can all end your sorrows." He smirked.

"Hey, Sam," Emilia greeted him with a smile as he sat on Bucky's left. Bucky only rolled his eyes. "Hey, Em. Good to see you too, Bucket." Sam laughed. "Stop calling me that." Bucky firmly stated. "It's so fun, though. Am I right, Mel?" Sam turned to look at Emilia.

She cringed her face in embarrassment and nodded, "I'll have to agree with Sam... Sorry, Bucket." Bucky responded with a straight poker face, but a smile was fighting to be released.

Bruce momentarily joined them and sat in the back next to Wanda and Vision.

Emilia stood up to look at the front row, noticing Peter was sitting right in front of her. "Hey, Pete!" She smiled, offering a handshake when he turned around to look at her. "Oh—hey! Thank you, guys, so much for inviting me. I love this movie." Peter grinned as he shook her hand.

"Between me and you—It was all Tony." She whispered to Peter. He only smiled in response and turned back around. Emilia sat back in her seat and looked at Bucky, noticing him staring again.

"You have a staring problem." She stated. "You get used to it." Sam scoffed. Bucky only shook his head, trying to look anywhere but at her. That has been getting harder and harder recently.

Emilia smiled and turned away, now looking to Natasha. "Hey, Nat..." Emilia whispered in her ear. Natasha turned her head to Emilia, listening. "What can I ask Wanda to make her think I'm cool?" She asked awkwardly.

Natasha snorted at the question. "I'm sorry—what? Why do you want her to like you?" "She's so cool—her powers, her style, her. Please, just help me." She pleaded.

Natasha stared at her sister in disbelief. "I- ask her about cooking—maybe? She likes to cook." The redhead laughed. "Thank you." Emilia responded and quickly turned around to look at Wanda, sitting directly behind her. Bucky's and Natasha's gazes followed her.

"Hey, Wanda! I was wondering... could you maybe teach me how to cook some Sokovian dish later?" She asked with anticipation, not being able to hide her excitement.

Wanda grinned at the question. "Of course—I'd love to, Emilia." She replied, her accent strong. Emilia's face went red with a smile as she turned back around.

Emilia had always admired Wanda. She's followed her progress and life ever since she volunteered to work for Hydra. She still kept track of her and the development of her powers even after she escaped. She always wanted to be friends with her.

"Looks like Emilia has a little crush." Sam teased. Both Emilia and Bucky sent Sam death glares. "Piss off, Wilson." Bucky scoffed. Emilia's eyes softened as she looked from Sam to Bucky. She smiled at him in response.

"Is everyone here? Can I start the film?" Tony asked through the speakers. "Aren't you going to join us?" Clint yelled back. "You really think I'm going to sit with you peasants? I have a private skybox above."

"Of course you do." Wanda scoffed. "Just start the movie, Stark." Steve rolled his eyes. "They hate you 'cause they're jealous of you." Tony mocked. "Do you think the people who hate Hitler—hate him because they're jealous of him?" Emilia spoke up.

The room went silent for a moment before everyone burst out into laughter. "Can't talk back to that one, can you, Tony?" Steve laughed. Tony didn't respond, just pressing play. Natasha snickered as she offered Emilia a high five.

Emilia grinned in anticipation as the movie began, not remembering the last time she watched a movie that wasn't Soviet propaganda.

Clint came around the room, handing out popcorn buckets to everyone. "I don't want any, thanks." Bucky rejected the food. Clint backed away and moved on to Sam. "What do you mean you don't want any?" Emilia questioned.

"I'm not hungry." He shrugged. "You don't need to be hungry to enjoy popcorn! Eat some." She insisted. He narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she wasn't making sense, but decided to humour her.

He grabbed one from her bucket and threw it in his mouth. "Happy?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. She nodded with a smile and turned back to the screen. Suddenly, Bucky regretted not taking the popcorn.

Throughout the movie, Emilia sang along to every song. With her soul. She was the entertainment of that night—rather than the movie.

Bucky would try to secretly take pieces of popcorn from Emilia's bucket while she wasn't looking, but he wasn't slick with it. However, Emilia pretended not to notice.

“Hey, that guy—Bill… He looks familiar.” Clint pointed out. “I don’t see it.” Steve shrugged and went back to the movie. Clint brushed it off too and dropped it.

At some point throughout the movie, the song SOS started playing. Emilia's eyes lit up in excitement. It was one of her favourite songs by ABBA. Natasha knew how much she loved it—she even joined in to sing.

"So when you're near me, Darlin'! Can't you hear me? SOS!" They both yelled at the top of their lungs. Natasha then turned to look at Steve as Emilia looked at Bucky. "The love you gave me, nothing else could save me, SOS!" They both laughed.

Bucky's heart was beating a million miles an hour. He just watched her pour her heart out into each word with admiration.

Don't go there, James. You're not good for her.

"When you're gone, how can I even try to go on? When you're gone, though I try, how can I carry on?" She grabbed his hand and shook it aggressively.

Bucky knew she was only messing around, but he was falling for it. Hard. A smile grew on his face as he let her do it, knowing how much this moment meant to her—to her childhood that got taken away.

The song eventually ended, and Emilia and Natasha finally leaned back in their seats, out of breath. Emilia fist-bumped her with a grin.

Suddenly, Tony burst through the door and sat beside Peter. “Got bored, huh?” Natasha teased.

“No—I just need to take care of the kid and make sure he doesn’t.. choke on popcorn or something.” Tony fibbed. Emilia laughed at his antics and put her focus back on the screen.

In time, the movie came to an end, leaving Emilia upset that it was over. "I don't get it—why didn't she just tell them one of them is her dad?" Steve spoke up. "It's a classic daddy issues complex." Natasha shrugged.

"Yeah—but then they could've avoided this entire issue." Clint added. "But—then we wouldn't have gotten Dancing Queen." Peter chimed in. "That's true—that's more important than the plot." Sam agreed.

"I didn't know Meryl Streep could sing." Bruce remarked. "There is nothing that woman can't do." Peter scoffed, making a few people laugh. "Didn't take you for a Streep fan—Parker." Tony spoke up. "There's no such thing as a non-Streep fan." Clint scoffed. Natasha and Peter nodded in agreement.

The conversation died down, leaving an awkward silence. "Play another one!" Emilia demanded. "There's no more, Mel. Sorry." Natasha pouted.

"So what—we just go sleep?" Emilia blew raspberries. "I'm sorry, Miss Emilia, but some of us actually have things to do in the morning." Vision laughed as he and Wanda got up to leave, followed by Bruce.

"What? Surely we can watch something else, right?" Emilia asked with hope. "I'm down." Natasha shrugged. "Same." Steve agreed. Emilia looked at Bucky, unconsciously hoping he'd say yes too.

One look in her golden-brown eyes and he folded immediately. He gently nodded with a smile. She grinned victoriously and turned to Sam. "You too?" "Happily." Sam grinned.

"How about you, Barton?" Natasha asked Clint who was sitting in the very back corner. "You kids have fun without me." He threw the peace sign and walked out of the room. "That was unnecessarily dramatic." Sam scoffed.

"Tony?" Sam turned to look at him. "Hang on—I'm screening The Notebook." He responded while doing something on his phone. "What's that?" Bucky asked Emilia. She shrugged in response. "It's this sappy film about romance." Sam elaborated.

"Hope it's good." Emilia mumbled as she sat down in her seat, followed by the rest sitting down too.

"Hold on—Parker, Aunt May will kill me if you don't get your ass home—now." Tony demanded. Peter pouted and stood up. "You suck, Anthony" Emilia stated. "That may be—but I don't need to deal with a worrying aunt right now." He added, a hint of fear in his voice.

“I’ll take him home myself, you guys enjoy the movie.” Tony added on. Everybody said bye to them; moments later, the movie started.

Halfway into the film, Emilia started getting uncomfortable. "She's engaged! Why would she do that?" She scoffed. Bucky only watched her reactions in amusement.

"Hey, guys—Natasha fell asleep. I'm going to take her to bed. Good night." Steve smiled at Emilia and Bucky before carrying Natasha away. Emilia looked around and noticed Sam had fallen asleep too, meaning only she and Bucky were left.

"Guess they couldn't handle the disloyalty in this film." Emilia laughed. "You don't think it's romantic?" Bucky questioned, deep down agreeing with her, but wondering how deeply she had thought that through.

"For starters—how could you get with another man while still in love with someone else? That's just stupid. And oh—surprise, surprise, she went back to him again. What a joke." She frowned, drowning in her seat.

Bucky smiled as he listened to her complaints—and she complained a lot. She would whine back and forth throughout the film, but he'd listen to every word—up until she passed out.

She fell asleep right before the movie ended, clearly not caring enough to see how it ends.

Bucky stood up and gently picked her up, one arm below her legs and the other supporting her back—her head leaning on his chest. He carefully carried her over to her room, trying to be as soft as possible when laying her on the bed and tucking her in.

As he stood there, watching her from above, he noticed the way her hair had fallen across her cheek. The small, instinctive curl of her fingers against the blanket. The part of her mouth that always stayed tense, even in sleep. And the way his chest ached with something he didn't want to name.

God—what are you doing to me?

It was quiet and aching—not just longing but need. Not even for her touch, but her presence. Her laughter. Her stubbornness.

And just like that, the warmth in his chest was overtaken by something cold and familiar.

No.

He looked down at his hand—at the faint scar across his knuckles, at the edge of metal beneath his sleeve. That's what he was. A list of injuries. A collection of commands he never got to choose. Hydra had turned him into a shadow, and shadows didn't belong in the light.

She's safe right now. She's healing.

Don't ruin that.

He gave her one last glance before walking out the door, quiet as a ghost.

And he reminded himself—like he always did—that love was a thing he didn't get to keep.

Chapter 12: Spider-tingle

Notes:

I kind of found out the Smithsonian museum is in Washington after I wrote this chapter—so please for the sake of the plot and my lack of sleep, pretend it's in New York, yeah? Thank you.

Also, I know it can get tiring seeing a lot of Emilia and Bucky all the time without seeing the development of her relationships with other people, but please keep in mind she's on a mission. She literally HAS to.

Emilia was counting down from a thousand as she sat there in the cafe, waiting.

She's been given orders to meet with an agent from the Red Room every few days after comprehending that talking on the burner phone was too risky—people could be listening. Hence, she left her phone behind, in case it was being tracked.

She doesn't know the agent's name—or anything about him. Only the fact that he was six-foot-two and brunette. She was ordered to call him Sir and to never ask questions.

547

546

5–

"45." The man greeted her as he sat down in the chair in front of her. "Morning, Sir." She said with a straight face.

"Are you aware it's been eight days, Agent?" He asked calmly. She shifted in her chair, the place getting more tense. "Yes, Sir." "Okay, great. So if you know how long it's been, please pray tell, why—do we still not have him?" He spat.

The air started closing in on her. "I—it takes time, Sir. I can't just make—it happen—" "I don't want to hear any more excuses, 45." He snarled, digging his nails into Emilia's hand which was resting on the table.

She only flinched, trying to keep her composure. "Tell me, dear... how long do you think Yelena is going to last while she waits for you to come back?" He smiled innocently, but it was far from it.

Emilia's heart started beating faster, words hitching at her throat. "You have a week. Every day after that, Yelena loses a finger." He leaned back in his seat, letting go of her hand, leaving light scars behind—a little blood showing.

Emilia sat there—frozen. Heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything else. "A week—isn't enough time." She stated. "Why sure, babe—it is." He grinned. "Use your body—Agent. It's what you're good for. Use it to your advantage." He whispered, eyes looking her up and down.

Emilia wanted to throw up. She felt physically ill from the thought of using her body in that way.

"Now. Go back there—and make it happen." He commanded. She slowly nodded and started standing up to leave when he grabbed her arm—pulling her back down. "Say it," he demanded.

She looked in his eyes with fear, only seeing rage in his. She took a deep breath before answering.

"Yes, Sir." She said with a straight face. He grinned and let go of her arm.

She took her chance and quickly got up—walking out of the cafe.

 

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"Have you ever actually seen around New York yet?" Peter curiously asked Emilia. "Not officially, no." She shrugged.

Emilia and Peter were sitting on the couch in the common room—Bucky quietly sitting on the armchair, book in hand.

Steve walked up to them after overhearing their conversation. "Why don't you go out and look around today? Peter could give you two a proper tour." He suggested. "You two?" Emilia and Bucky asked in sync, locking eyes immediately.

"Well, yeah—You and Bucky haven't actually been around modern New York. Could be good for you." He shrugged. Peter's eyes lit up in excitement. "Oh—I know exactly where we could go!"

Peter started listing all the different places he could show them, but both Bucky and Emilia zoned out—in their own thoughts.

Both of them were scared to be around each other—both for different reasons. Bucky was afraid of his feelings, while Emilia was afraid of acting out the worst part of her training on the one person that didn't walk on eggshells around her—didn't act like she was broken; just—her.

"Emilia? Are you down?" Peter snapped his fingers, bringing her back to the present. "Oh—um, yeah. Sure." She put on a smile.

She looked at Bucky for an answer, but he only nodded with a smile, not being able to get a word out. "Great—I'll go tell Mr Stark!" Peter exclaimed as he ran off down the hall.

There was nothing but silence left to fill the air, the tension between Bucky and Emilia rising.

Emilia looked tired. She didn't let her mind rest for a second since leaving that cafe in the morning. "Where were you—earlier?" Bucky asked her.

Emilia froze, not expecting him to say something—let alone that. "I was out." She said casually. "Out?" He raised an eyebrow. "I just went for a walk. That's all." She shrugged, standing up.

"I'll see you at the door, okay?" She asked. It took him a moment to process her question, his mind still hung up on the one he'd asked. "Sure." He answered coldly.

Emilia walked out of the room, making her way towards the entrance where she saw Peter talking on the phone. "Thank you—Mr Stark. I won't be out long." He grinned as he ended the call.

"All good?" She asked. He nodded eagerly in response. "Listen—Pete... Do you think we could go to the Smithsonian first?" "The museum? Sure, but why?" He questioned.

"I heard they have a Captain America exhibit there.. I was wondering if it could maybe—help Bucky with getting his memories back, you know?" She explained awkwardly. Peter immediately understood and smiled, "Of course, anything to help."

Moments later, Bucky walked up to them. "Ready to go?" She asked chipperly, pretending to be okay with everything. He nodded, and they all headed out the door.

-

Once they finally got to the museum, while Peter ran to Captain America's statue, Emilia's eyes landed on Bucky's memorial. She nudged Bucky to follow her as he looked around like a lost puppy.

They walked up to his picture on a glass wall—a description of Bucky's past written on the side.

Bucky inhaled sharply as he read, his mind reeling with thoughts—the mixed emotions visible on his face. Emilia stood right by his side the whole time. His chest tightened as he kept reading, learning more about himself with every word.

She shifted her hand, letting it fall gently to her side, inches from his. For a moment, neither moved. She wanted him to know that she was there for him. It didn't have to be through words.

Then his fingers brushed hers. Once. Barely there.

Her breath caught—not loudly, not enough for anyone else to notice, but she felt it. Felt the heat rise through her chest like something fragile cracking open.

His fingers hovered, hesitant. Waiting. Asking. She didn't think—she just moved her pinky the smallest bit, the silent answer he needed.

And so, carefully—he let his hand slide against hers, rough skin meeting hers like he was afraid the moment might shatter if he breathed too hard.

Their fingers curled together slowly, delicately, as if the weight of everything they'd survived had brought them here—to this one, quiet touch.

They didn't speak. Didn't look at each other. But neither let go.

"Hey, guys—" Peter yelled out as he ran up to the pair. Emilia and Bucky both quickly retracted their hands—the moment slipping away.

"Check it out! I got a free Captain America helmet!" Peter exclaimed as he put on a very poorly made cardboard helmet. "Pete, you do know you met him... right?" Emilia laughed.

"Doesn't change the fact that he's Captain America..." Peter scoffed. Bucky smiled lightly at the interaction.

"Anyway—where do you guys want to go next? We could see the Statue of Liberty, Empire State, Central Park—" "How about Brooklyn?" Emilia interrupted Peter. Bucky's gaze found hers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Oh—sure. We could go to.. Coney Island?" Peter suggested. Emilia's eyes lit up at the mention, quickly turning to Bucky to see his reaction, but there was none. He didn't remember.

The very first time she wiped a memory was at that same amusement park. She hoped to see some spark of remembrance on his face, but nothing. She felt a knot tie in her stomach.

Don't give up. He can remember.

"Sounds great, Pete." She smiled. She turned to Bucky once more, his eyes blank with no emotion. She did this to him. And she's still doing it.

She turned toward Bucky again, her heart sinking as she met his gaze. His eyes were like two lifeless pools, stripped of any warmth or feeling. A profound emptiness lingered there, a stark reminder of the pain she had caused him.

It twisted in her gut—a heavy burden of guilt that gnawed at her insides. She had done this to him, and in her quest for Yelena's survival, she was still orchestrating his torment, even now.

-

"Hey, look—cotton candy!" Peter exclaimed the second they walked into the park. He ran up to the stand that sold the candy and quickly ordered himself one.

"You guys want one? Tony gave me money, so it's on him." Peter grinned. "Well then—if Tony's paying, count me in." Emilia laughed as she ran after him. Bucky rolled his eyes and caught up to both of them.

Emilia got handed the cotton candy, immediately sticking to her fingers. A feeling she never knew she'd miss. She took a big bite—the candy sticking to her face.

A smile grew on Bucky's face as he watched her. She pulled the cotton away from her mouth, leaving a small chunk attached to her nose.

"You know, this—" Bucky started as he pulled the piece of candy off of her nose, "is why you eat it with your hands," he chuckled. A smile appeared on Emilia's face, mirroring his.

He's not brooding anymore. That's progress.

"Pardon me, Sir. I had forgotten about the fact that you possess such extensive knowledge about the intricacies of food digestion." Emilia teased in a formal tone.

"Natasha's a bad influence on you." He scoffed. "Perhaps. Do you want some?" She offered. "No thanks. I don't really have a sweet tooth." Bucky shrugged.

"What? How can you not like sweet things? They're so—sweet?!" She laughed. Bucky's eyes met hers with a softness that made her heart skip. "There are exceptions."

Emilia's breath hitched—when Peter spoke up again, "Mel, do you want a teddy bear?" "What?" She asked, puzzled. "There's a stand there—if you throw three rings over the pole standing in the middle, you win a bear. I want to try it, so I'm using you as an excuse." He shrugged.

Bucky grinned at Emilia's expression fading from gratefulness to annoyance. "Gee, Pete—thanks?" She rolled her eyes, following him to the stand, Bucky walking closely behind.

Peter had attempted to throw the ring in the target thrice but missed every single one. "Shouldn't this be easy for you? With your spider-tingle and stuff?" Bucky asked curiously.

"It's harder than it looks, James—Mr Barnes, Sir." Peter lost his composure for a second. "I highly doubt it." Bucky scoffed. "You try it then." Peter pouted, handing him the rings.

"Which bear do you want, Mel?" Bucky asked as he turned to look at Emilia, his voice softening. Emilia got caught off guard, not expecting him to ask that. "Oh, um—" "The blue one?" He cut her off, reading her mind.

"How'd you know?" She furrowed her eyebrows. "You mentioned it was your favourite colour earlier with Natasha." He shrugged. Emilia paused to think. "Earlier? Bucky, that was five days ago... Wait, you were listening? I thought you were reading." She scoffed.

"The book wasn't that interesting." He smiled. "Right—and the colour I dyed my hair when I was seven was?" She laughed. He only grinned in return and turned back to face the stand, determined to win that bear for her.

It took him about four tries until he finally got all the rings on the pole. Bucky cheered, throwing his arms in the air, and Emilia squealed in excitement. "Not fair—you had an extra try. I could've totally made it on the fourth try too." Peter rolled his eyes.

Bucky told the owner of the stand which prize he wanted, their hands grazing as he gave her the bear.

Something tugged at Bucky in that moment—something almost familiar and yet new. It was almost as though he was here before—with her. But that's impossible, he thought.

He froze, eyes boring into hers. She could sense a shift in his demeanour as if a hidden door in his mind was creaking open. Anxiety gnawed at her.

He can't remember. Don't overthink, Emilia.

"You okay?" She asked worriedly. He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling. But it lingered, a nagging echo in the back of his mind. "Yeah—sorry." He forced a smile.

Emilia furrowed her eyebrows in concern, wanting to see what he was thinking in that moment, but knew she couldn't get in his head. Not again.

She tried to play it off. If he wasn't ready to say something, she wasn't going to force it out of him. "No worries." She smiled.

Peter looked worriedly at his phone, murmuring something indistinct. "Pete.. is everything okay? What happened?" Emilia turned to look at him, hand on his shoulder.

"I have some spidey-business to attend to—I gotta go." He muttered. "Anything serious? We can help." Bucky added. "No—no. It's personal. I'll be fine, I promise. Tell Mr Stark I'm sorry!" he blurted as he ran to the exit.

"Should we worry?" Bucky spoke up. "He can handle himself. I trust him." Emilia answered. Bucky nodded in understanding. "So... now what?" He asked.

Emilia thought for a second before thinking of something. Something she's been thinking about for a while. "I have an idea... but you can't ask questions." She stated.

He tilted his head, not understanding what she was implying. "I'm not about to be kidnapped, am I?" Really poor choice of words, James. "No—just trust me, okay?" She asked.

Trust. That word holds many meanings. Steve aside, he's never actually trusted anyone since Hydra. Not truly. But he was willing to risk it for her. "Alright, Mel. Lead the way." He smirked. She grinned and made her way to the exit, him walking slightly behind.

-

"Now can you tell me where we're going, Emilia?" Bucky asked worriedly. The sun had already set when they were walking down a run-down street. "We're almost there."

Bucky was on edge the entire time, checking his corners, watching every passerby—he had to make sure there was no danger around. The streets grew darker and more deserted, and Bucky drifted closer behind Emilia—as if guarding her.

Bucky knew Emilia could handle herself, but he couldn't fight off the instinct to protect her. It came naturally to him. Too naturally.

"So what have you been up to lately?" Emilia tried sparking a conversation. Bucky paused to think, not knowing what he should tell her.

"I tried woodworking." He shrugged. Emilia furrowed her eyebrows and turned to look at him, noticing how close he was. "Woodworking?" "Yeah, well—Steve said it's 'calming' or whatever, so I went to check it out."

Emilia smiled, "Did you like it?" "Yeah.. I think so." He smiled back. Emilia's smile widened at his response, feeling better knowing he's discovering new interests. "That's great, Buck." She said gently. He only smiled, gaze not leaving hers.

"Hey—we're here." She grinned. He looked around at the building they were standing in front of, not recognising it. "Where is here, exactly?" "Here, is your old apartment." She said quietly.

A strange tightness gripped his chest, like memory and emotion colliding before he even understood why.

He took a slow step forward, gaze tracing the fire escape, the faded numbers above the doorway, and the chipped stone ledge beneath the second-story window.

He didn't fully remember it, not clearly. But his body did. His eyes flickered, searching, catching the faintest ghost of a memory.

He turned to look at Emilia, wanting to ask how or why she did this, but the words couldn't leave his mouth.

Emilia watched him carefully, her fingers tightening slightly around the strap of her bag, like she didn't quite know what to do with her hands. She didn't expect him to remember something—hell, she wasn't even sure if he'd want to see it. But the look on his face now, quiet and wide-eyed and completely undone, told her she'd done the right thing.

She softened her voice. "It took a while to find it. The number was painted over, and the storefront downstairs isn't the same... but it's yours." A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Thought it could help."

Bucky didn't respond at first; he just nodded. And then, wordlessly, he reached for the door.

The hallway inside was narrow, dim, and smelled of old wood. "It's not much," Emilia said, leading the way up the stairs, glancing over her shoulder, "but they never renovated the top units. Figured you might like it better that way."

He followed her, fingers grazing the bannister. It was quiet, familiar in a way that made his throat tighten.

When they reached the landing, Emilia stopped in front of a door and fished a key from her jacket pocket. "The landlord's a friend of a friend," she added casually. The friend being Tony Stark. "I talked him into giving me access. He didn't ask too many questions."

She turned the key and pushed the door open gently.

Inside, the apartment was bare—no furniture, no lights on, just dust motes dancing in the sunlight and the hum of distant traffic outside the window. But it felt lived in. Not by anyone now, but once. The energy hadn't left.

Bucky stepped inside slowly, like his feet remembered the floorboards before his mind did. He took it in—the worn floor, the old radiator, the curve of the windowsill that caught the moonlight just right.

"This was my place," he whispered. "This is where I..." He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

Emilia stepped in behind him, quieter now, watching him without intruding. "You don't have to say anything," she said softly. "I just wanted you to see it. To know it's still here."

He turned toward her—not smiling, not crying, just looking at her like she had just handed him a memory he thought was gone forever. And then, almost without thinking, he reached out and gently took her hand.

His voice was rough but steady. "Thank you." Emilia's mind was reeling, not being able to respond.

He walked further inside, still loosely holding on to her hand, as if he'd lose his footing without it. He walked to the window and placed a palm on the sill. The paint was chipped, the wood cold. But it was real.

"I used to sit here," he said quietly, thumb brushing along the edge of the frame. "I don't remember the view, but I remember the way the light felt."

She only smiled, not wanting to interrupt whatever was stirring inside of him. "You really did all this?" He asked in a hushed tone. Emilia shrugged. "Had some help."

"Why are you so kind to me?" He murmured, eyes locked on hers. Emilia didn't know what to say.

Was it only out of guilt? Was there some other reason she wasn't aware of? She loved seeing him happy. Even if it was just a glimpse of it. But it didn't feel fair. She was the reason it was taken away from him in the first place.

"If anyone deserves kindness in this world, Bucky. It's you. As cliché as that sounds—I mean it." She said with a half smile.

"You make the weight I carry feel a little lighter." He huffed, a smile creeping up on him. Her breath hitched. "So do you." She said quietly.

This is for the mission, Emiliya.

There was a moment of silence, neither one of them saying a word. But it wasn't awkward or uneasy. It was comfortable. Safe.

He looked down at her hand in his, his thumb gently running over it when he noticed something on her hand. You could easily miss it if you didn't look closely, but there were scars. Incredibly light, but they were there.

They haven't faded yet. Fuck.

"Mel, what happened?" His eyes shot up to hers and back to her hand. He pulled her hand closer to get a better look. "These are fresh, Emilia." He stated, voice darkening, now looking her in the eyes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Don't worry about it, okay?" She tried, her voice giving away the fear she held inside. "Who did this to you? Is it that guyyou sneak off to see?" His eyes ran all over her body, checking to see if she was bruised or hurt.

Emilia was petrified—her eyes widening. How does he know? "Bucky, please let it go. No one did anything." She pleaded, dragging her hand away from him, hiding it behind her back.

"Emilia—don't lie to me." He stepped closer, almost towering over her. "I did it to myself, okay? I was stressed—it just happened." She whispered, looking up at him.

He didn't respond, eyes searching hers for the truth. His brain didn't know if it should believe her, but his heart did.

His eyes softened. "Are you okay, Mel?" He asked gently. "Mhm." She lied. He nodded gently, looking down at the floor. "It's getting late. We should head back," he stated.

No words were spoken the entire way back. Just thoughts that neither of them dared say out loud.

Why does he care so much?

Why does she still see him ?

Chapter 13: Pretty Boy

Summary:

Please keep in mind I was taught in a British school, so if some word spellings seem odd to you, it’s just the British spelling.

Emilia was sitting in Natasha's room thinking of what to wear to the 'karaoke' party Tony decided to throw. He throws one every two months—just to try and keep up the team morale.

The words the agent told her yesterday lingered in her mind once more. Use your body.

Emilia didn't know if she had it in her. Weaponising that part of herself was not something she thought she'd ever have to do. She was trained for it—yes—but no amount of training can prepare you for the real thing.

She asked Natasha if she could borrow something to wear for the party—she was more than happy to offer her entire wardrobe to Emilia.

Emilia zoned out—staring at the revealing low-cut dress displayed on the chair in front of her. She couldn't see herself wearing it. Let alone with such corrupt intentions.

"Found anything you like yet?" Natasha yelled from the bathroom adjacent to her room. "Do you have anything—less revealing?" Emilia yelled back.

Natasha poked her head out of the doorway, locking eyes with Emilia. "Are you slut-shaming me?" She asked dramatically. Emilia's eyes widened. "What? No—I didn't—" "I'm messing with you, Emilia," the redhead laughed as she left the bathroom.

"I have some more modest clothing here." Natasha commented as she dug through her closet. Emilia smiled and threw a blanket over the dress lying in front of her—not wanting to look at it any longer.

Emilia grabbed a navy-blue dress—not too much, not too casual. Just right for karaoke night. "How about this one?" She asked. "It would look great on you." Natasha grinned, walking over to the bed. Emilia carefully analysed the dress, growing to love it with each passing second.

"Mel... did you think I'd forget?" Natasha spoke up once more. Emilia froze, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Forget what?" She asked. "Your birthday's coming up in a few days. Are you still not celebrating?"

Emilia threw her head back with a sigh. "Nat, please—I don't want to." She stated sharply. Natasha raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, I won't push. But I hope you know that there isn't a single person here who wouldn't want to celebrate it with you."

Emilia knew that. That fact only made it worse. These people were starting to trust her—when they shouldn't.

"I'll take that into consideration." Emilia lied. Natasha smiled in return. "Now go and try on the dress! Let me see what you're workin' with."

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

"I never thought I'd hear Tony Stark sing." Emilia laughed, sitting comfortably on the couch at the karaoke bar, watching Tony and Rhodes sing along to Michael Jackson's Billie Jean.

"He hits the high notes and everything..." Clint pointed out in disbelief. "You're lucky you don't have to live with him. His singing can be heard through the entire house when he's showering." Pepper joked, making Emilia and Clint chuckle.

Steve and Bucky sat on the couch opposite Emilia and Natasha when the door swung open, revealing a broad-shouldered blond man with muscles that looked sculpted from stone. "My favourite Midgardians! I'm here!" He exclaimed, abnormally loud.

Emilia's jaw dropped. Thor had just walked through the door. Thor. He started making his way over to the couch. She couldn't move—or talk —until Natasha grabbed her arm and pulled her up. "Hey, Thor. Meet Emilia, my sister. She's a huge fan of yours." She teased.

Emilia glared at her sister, her face reddening. "I never turn away from a fan! Pleasure to meet you, Lady Emilia." He greeted her, kissing her hand.

"You okay there, Mel?" Scott asked with concern as Emilia stood frozen.

She quickly snapped out of it, dragging her hand back to her side. "Sorry—hi! Pleasure to meet you too." She smiled awkwardly, pinching Natasha's arm.

She quickly sat back down in her seat, embarrassed by the encounter. "Wow, Mel. You got game." Natasha mocked. "What game? I just think he's really cool." Emilia whispered back, Natasha only sarcastically nodding in response.

Bucky watched the whole exchange unfold, heat rising beneath his skin. His fists were balled at his sides, jaw locked so tight it ached.

Tony and Rhodes finally finished with their song, coming down from the stage feeling victorious. "Very well sung, friends. Incredible work." Thor complimented, his signature Asgardian ale in hand.

"I know." Tony shrugged. Rhodes only rolled his eyes. "Who's up next?" He asked. "I want to sing some Marvin Gaye, but this man isn't educated enough to know his music." Sam stated, annoyed, pointing at Steve.

"Wait—which song were you planning on singing?" Emilia asked excitedly. "Ain't no mountain high enough, of course." He shrugged. "God—I haven't heard that song in forever. I knew it word for word." Emilia reminisced, smile fading.

Sam grinned as an idea popped up in his head. "Wanna duo?" He exclaimed. "Always?!" Emilia laughed as she got up, both of them making their way to the stage.

"What song is that?" Bucky asked Steve in a whisper. "Just some song about a couple." Steve shrugged, Bucky's gaze dropping.

"Bucky... are you okay? You've been acting very weird the past day or two. Are you still having nightmares?" Steve asked, worry in his voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Bucky scoffed, grabbing Thor's drink and pouring himself some. His eyes found Emilia up on the stage. It was like second nature to them now—finding Emilia whenever she was in the room.

"Ain't no mountain high enough. Ain't no valley low enough. Ain't no river wide enough. To keep me from gettin' to you, baby."

Emilia sang in sync with Sam, everyone cheering all around them. Bucky watched them intensely, never blinking. Hand so tight on the cup—it was on the verge of breaking.

"Right... and it has nothing to do with that brunette up on the stage?" Steve continued, cocking his head in her direction. "What?" Bucky snapped out of it, eyes on Steve now.

"Oh, please—Buck. You look like you're about to bite Sam's head off." Steve scoffed. "It's not like that, Steve." He took a large sip of the ale.

Bucky and Steve had learnt recently that although normal alcohol has no effect on them due to the super-soldier serum running through their veins, Thor's Asgardian ale does.

Steve pat Bucky on his shoulder. "I'm always here for you, Buck." He said softly. Steve grabbed the glass from Bucky's grasp, setting it down on the table. "Take it easy on that." Bucky scoffed and leaned back in his seat, eyes drifting to Emilia again.

They finally finished with the song, ending it with the chorus. Sam and Emilia jumped off the stage, laughing till their stomachs hurt.

She's laughing. What was she laughing about?

Bucky watched her as she walked over to sit back down, only this time—she sat next to him. She turned to look at him with a smile. "Hey." She said gently.

"That was some singing." Bucky said with a forced smile. She chuckled, "I didn't realise how much I've missed it. I used to listen to it on repeat... Yelena duetting with me." Her smile started to fade.

A flicker of guilt crept in—he'd misread Emilia's intentions entirely. She just wanted to get a piece of her childhood back. A piece of Yelena. She needed that more than anyone.

She sat there—looking at her hands, while he looked at her—when Thor sat down on the couch in front of them. Bucky watched Emilia's gaze follow him.

"You like him?" He asked, not displaying any emotion on his face.

Emilia's head snapped back to Bucky, eyebrows furrowing. "What? No!" She cringed. "It's just unbelievable, is all. I mean... he's a myth. A legend. Seeing him here—now... it's like a fairytale come to life. My inner-child is reeling." She grinned.

Bucky's gaze softened, her words finally putting his mind at ease. They sat there in silence, the world around them fading.

"So, Mel. How are you liking living with us so far?" Wanda piped up, sitting where Natasha used to sit. "Oh, I—I like it. It's fine—good. It's good." She smiled shyly, earning a grin from Wanda.

"If you ever get tired of your sister or this brooding man that won't leave your side," she pointed at Bucky, "hit me up. I'm way more interesting anyway." She smirked.

Bucky pretended to be insulted, deep down fighting off a smile. "I'll definitely take you up on that." Emilia laughed, turning to look at Bucky.

Is he blushing? No—no way. It's more likely he's having an allergic reaction than blushing . Bucky Barnes does not blush.

Emilia turned back around, remembering she hasn't seen Natasha in a while—only she couldn't find her.

Where is she?

"Um.. Bucky? Where is Nat?" She spoke up, shifting to look behind him, noticing Steve was missing too. "And... Steve...?" She added. Bucky looked around, just now noticing their disappearance too.

Emilia grinned in realisation. "Natasha. And Steve. Are missing." She raised her eyebrows at Bucky. It took him a second to realise what she was hinting at, a smile slowly growing on his face.

"You don't think—" "I definitely think." Emilia cut him off, holding back laughter. "We should probably—" "Go and find them?" Emilia suggested. Bucky grinned, "Read my mind."

She quickly got up from her seat, hurrying over to the exit—Bucky swiftly following her.

They crept down the dimly lit hallway, every step cautious. The air was thick with silence—until the murmur of voices drifted from around the corner.

Emilia peeked carefully over her shoulder—and froze.

She saw them. Them. Natasha and Steve.

Kissing.

Her jaw dropped. A laugh clawed its way up her throat, barely held back. The sheer absurdity of it lit up her face like a spark, her shoulders twitching as she fought the giggles.

Bucky, standing beside her, caught the whole thing. His eyes darted to the couple, then to Emilia—who was definitelyabout to blow their cover. Without a second thought, he grabbed her arm and pulled her swiftly behind a pillar, shielding both of them from sight.

"Did you hear that?" Natasha's voice rang out, her instincts already kicking in.

Bucky and Emilia's eyes widened in unison. He leaned in closer, his body nearly flush against hers as they held their breath.

"You're being paranoid, Nat," Steve's chuckle followed.

"I'm a spy, Steve. I'm always paranoid," she shot back.

That line did it. Emilia's resolve crumbled. A sharp puff of air escaped her nose, and the laughter she'd been bottling up trembled on the edge of release.

Bucky's eyes widened. Desperate, he clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling the sound just in time. Emilia's eyes sparkled with mischief as her face flushed a deep crimson. The laughter was still there, threatening to explode.

His hand pressed more firmly. "Don't," he mouthed with a pleading look.

She nodded slightly against his palm, but her whole body was trembling with the effort to stay silent.

"Hey, look—there's an empty room right there," Steve whispered, nodding toward a door just a few feet down the hall. "Lead the way, Captain," Natasha smirked, her voice low and suggestive.

That line nearly broke Bucky too.

His lips twitched with the effort to stay quiet, regret blooming across his face like an unwanted bruise. Why did we leave the bar? He shook his head lightly.

But as Steve and Natasha disappeared around the corner, and the risk of being caught evaporated, Bucky suddenly became aware of the woman still pressed close to him—the hand still lightly resting over her mouth.

His breath hitched.

Her eyes, wide and bright, locked with his. He let his hand fall away quickly, almost as if it had burnt him—but his gaze didn't leave hers.

A beat of silence passed.

Then Emilia burst into laughter, the kind that bubbled out uncontrollably and made her whole body shake. She leaned slightly forward, grabbing her stomach as she let it out, her cheeks flushed pink and glowing from the effort.

Bucky couldn't help it. He laughed too, a soft, genuine sound pulled from somewhere deep.

She's got such a contagious laugh...

It warmed something in him he didn't know needed thawing.

"I knew it!" she whisper-shouted, practically bouncing with delight. "It was about time they got together." Bucky chuckled, glancing once more over Emilia's shoulder in case the happy couple made a surprise reappearance.

They lingered there—just a little longer than necessary. Inches apart, hearts thudding quietly in the stillness. There was something unspoken in the air, thick and humming between them. His eyes searched hers. Hers didn't look away.

No. Not yet.

"We should probably head back..." Emilia whispered, her voice softer now, like she almost didn't want to say it.

"Yeah... probably," Bucky murmured, though neither of them moved.

Not yet.

Eventually, she slid past him through the narrow space between him and the pillar. Their arms brushed, and he felt it like a spark along his skin. She started down the hall slowly, casting a glance back when she realised he wasn't following.

He stood still for a moment longer, caught in the residue of something tender. Then he finally turned, shoving his hands into his pockets, and followed her back to the bar—half of him still standing in that hallway.

They walked back into the bar, sitting back down in their previous seats.

"Emilia?" Tony called out, making both Bucky and Emilia snap their heads in his direction. "Why don't you want to celebrate your birthday?" He asked with intrigue, sitting down next to Thor.

Emilia's mouth flew agape. Bucky turned his head back to Emilia, a smile growing on his face. "Your birthday's coming up? Why didn't you tell me?" He asked gently.

Emilia felt like her brain had just short-circuited. She didn't know which emotion to lean into: the anger burning beneath her skin from Tony's prodding, or the ache blooming in her chest from Bucky's tenderness.

"I—how did you—did Natasha tell you?!" Emilia blurted. "No—she didn't tell me anything." He added.

"What? Then how—" Emilia paused. "You son of a bitch... you bugged my phone, didn't you?" She scoffed. "Is this true?" Bucky spoke up, looking at Tony now. The room went silent.

"Look—I know that sounds bad, but I had to have some precautions. You tried to kill me barely a week ago.. I had to make sure." He retorted. "You're unbelievable, Tony." Wanda scoffed.

Emilia glared at Tony, wanting to be mad, but he was also right. They shouldn't trust her.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'll never listen in again. You have my word. Now why don't you want to celebrate?" He retorted. She sighed, leaning back in her seat. "I haven't celebrated my birthday in fifteen years. Why start now?" she explained.

"Well, for starters, you get cake." Clint shrugged. "And gifts—most important." Tony grinned. "I don't know... feels unnecessary." She added.

Tony nodded in understanding, secretly planning exactly how he'll put together her birthday party. The silence died down, and everyone went back to whatever they were talking about.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you..." Emilia said quietly, facing Bucky. "Hey, it's okay. I understand." He said with a warm smile.

Sam ran up to Bucky moments later, nudging him on the shoulder. "Hey, Bucket. Wanna sing a duet with me?" He grinned. Emilia smirked and looked to Bucky for a response. "Not at all." Bucky said with a chuckle. "Whatever, pretty boy." He shrugged and went to search for Steve.

Bucky's smile dropped instantly. "Bucky—what's wrong?" Emilia's face mimicked his. Bucky didn't answer. He just stared at the wall. "Bucky?" She tried again, putting her hand on his shoulder, but he flinched—backing away a little.

Emilia immediately retracted her hand, unsure of what to do. Bucky watched her expression, full of concern and confusion. He didn't know how to explain. He didn't even know if he wanted to. But the alcohol might make him talk either way.

"Sorry... that nickname just brought back some memories. Not very good ones." He tried laughing it off, but his eyes gave him away. "What kind of memories?" She asked, trying not to push.

"Back at Hydra, I wasn't only used as a weapon.." His gaze found his hands—staring at them because he knows what they've done.

Emilia's heart sank. She already knew where this was headed, but didn't want to admit it. "They used to call me pretty boy right before they—" he drifted off.

Emilia felt like the air had been punched from her lungs. The look in Bucky's eyes when he spoke—calm, quiet, but hollow—hit her harder than any mission blow ever had. It wasn't the words themselves—it was what he didn't say.

And then the weight of her purpose—her original purpose—crashed down on her all over again. Bring him back. Deliver him to the very hands that had done that to him. She felt sick. As if her entire chest were caving in with the guilt.

Her throat tightened, eyes burning as she fought to keep her composure. He didn't know. He didn't know that in just under a week, she was supposed to drag him back to the same nightmare he was now barely clawing his way out of.

And he trusted her. He trusted her.

A part of her wanted to confess everything right there, just to tear the secret out of her like it was poison. Another part couldn't speak at all—too consumed by shame to meet his eyes. Instead, she sat in silence, drowning in the weight of what should have been. What she was going to cause.

"I don't know if I can say anything that makes this better. But I do know this... You didn't deserve any of it. Not then, not ever."

All he did in response was reach for her hand. And that—somehow—made it worse.

She couldn't go through with it. She couldn't.

She quickly retracted her hand and stood up—eyes glossing with tears. "I—I gotta go. I'm so sorry." She stepped back, still facing him, seeing the sting of hurt on his face. She fought back a tear as she ran out of the bar.

She couldn't breathe. She could barely stand. She knew she couldn't go through with it anymore. She felt so lost—not knowing what to do.

Emilia used to tell herself—Bucky would lose his freedom, but Yelena could lose her life. As twisted as it was, that thought was the one thing that helped her make a choice in the most morally questionable situation she was ever put through.

Because between freedom and life, life is more important. Right?

But something shifted.

The truth in his eyes wasn't about lost freedom. It was about a soul already bruised from being caged. She understood now. Going back to Hydra wouldn't just take his freedom. It would take his life.

Because what he had there wasn't life. It was survival in slow motion. A prison without bars but with chains far worse. And the way he looked at her when he told her made it clear.

He'd rather die than go back.

Bucky gave her something fragile—something sacred. A truth he'd buried so deep it barely had a name. One he'd locked away behind steel walls and silence, convinced no one would ever hear it.

But he told her. For the first time, he let it breathe. And she ran. The echo of her footsteps felt louder than any gunshot.

Now he sat in that silence, drowning in it, blaming himself for breaking it in the first place. Maybe he should've swallowed it down again. Maybe the weight was his to carry alone.

Because in giving her a piece of his pain, he feared he had only proven he was too broken to love—and too broken to be loved back.

Chapter 14: The Plums

Notes:

hehe it’s my birthday:D

Emilia had been holed up in her room all day—no sleep, no food, just endless research.

She'd poured hours into searching for any trace of where Yelena was being held, working with scraps of intel and fading hope. Desperate, she had asked Natasha for help—on one condition: she couldn't tell anyone. Not a soul. Yelena's life depended on it. So did Bucky's.

But that wasn't something she could explain.

Emilia had lied to Natasha, to everyone around her, for so long that part of her had started to wish the lies were real. She liked this life—the illusion of normalcy, the idea of it all. But that didn't matter anymore.

Not after what Bucky told her the night before.

That confession changed everything. She knew now, with a painful clarity, that she couldn't go through with the mission.

She just had to find Yelena—get her out, get her safe, leave her with Natasha. Then she'd disappear. It was better that way. After everything, Emilia wasn't sure she even deserved to be welcomed back.

Since then, she'd barely left her room. She'd only stepped out once—to run to the store and return just as fast, retreating into the quiet, shadowed corners of her self-made exile.

Her and Natasha sat in silence, deeply concentrated on the laptops in front of them. Natasha was lying on the bed, while Emilia sat on the floor with her back to the bed frame, laptop on her laps.

Natasha let out a heavy sigh and poked her head over the bed frame—looking up at Emilia.

"Are you sure we can't ask Maria for help?" Natasha asked for the third time. "I don't know, Nat—are you sure we can trust her?" Emilia questioned.

"I trust her with my life, Em. When I got out—she was one of the only people at SHIELD who helped and trusted me. If anyone can help us find Yelena, it's Maria." Natasha stated confidently.

Emilia paused, contemplating—eventually letting out a sigh. "Fine. Call her. Just make sure she doesn't tell anyone. Word could get back to them." Emilia said sharply.

Natasha nodded in understanding and took out her phone—dead set on finding Yelena. Natasha didn't even know the imminent danger that she was in—but Emilia couldn't tell her. Then she'd know about the mission. It would be over for her.

There was only one person in the compound wondering where Emilia was all day.

Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the untouched meal in front of him. "Your food's getting cold." Steve stated, sitting opposite of him. Bucky didn't respond; he just kept staring.

"What's wrong, Buck?" Steve sighed. Bucky's gaze found his. "Have you seen Emilia today?" he asked. "She should be with Natasha right now...Why?" Steve questioned.

"She's been acting—weird. Avoidant. I'm scared I did or said something wrong last night." He admitted. "Come on, I'm sure it's nothing. She probably just has a lot on her mind." Steve tried comforting.

"I don't know... it was so different when we went to this amusement park, Coney Island—" "Woah, wait. You guys went to Coney Island?" Steve raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, you know it?" Bucky tilted his head in question.

"Buck—are you kidding? We used to go there all the time." Steve smiled. Bucky's stomach twisted in a knot. Steve has been bringing up their past memories more and more recently—which only made Bucky feel worse and worse.

Steve has such fond memories of the two, which made Bucky feel guilty for not remembering them. A big piece of him was Steve. And yet, it was all a blur. It was almost missing.

"Sorry..." Bucky responded. Steve knew that look. He retorted with an explanation—hoping it would help. "This one time we were there.. You blew three bucks trying to win a stuffed bear for a redhead." Steve scoffed.

"Wait—what was her name again?" Bucky questioned, something not adding up. "Dolores. You called her Dot." He responded.

Bucky paused to think—trying to remember that day. He seemed to remember a vague feeling of that day. The only issue being—he didn't remember some girl named Dolores.

He remembered—Emilia—there.

How—how is that possible...? Why do I picture Emilia there? Maybe she looks like that 'Dolores'?

"Did she look like.. Emilia?" Bucky asked shyly. Steve raised an eyebrow, confused. "Not—really? Why do you ask?" "I can't explain it, but... I remember Emilia being there—not the redhead." Bucky dropped his head.

Steve wondered for a moment before coming up with an explanation. "Your brain probably just altered the memory of you and Dolores—with the memory of you and Emilia. I wouldn't worry too much about it." He pat Bucky on the shoulder. "Yeah... maybe." He shrugged.

No matter how much time had passed, Steve never forgave himself for letting Bucky fall off that train. Every time he sees Bucky struggle with remembering, he can't help but feel responsible.

"Listen, Bucky. I—I feel like I never properly apologised for what happened on the train. It’s been eating at me every day since..." His voice cracked. "There was nothing you could've done, Steve. Don't beat yourself up." Bucky faked a smile, trying to hold it together for Steve.

"How have you been adjusting?" Steve added. Bucky shifted in his seat, not knowing how to answer. "It's harder than I thought.."

Steve nodded. "You've really come through recently. You're actually talking to people—or, you know... you're talking to Emilia." Steve smirked. Bucky was about to get defensive, but he then realised there's no point in arguing. Steve can see through him like glass.

"I didn't mean for this to happen." Bucky stated coldly. "Mean what? To fall for her?" Steve laughed. "To get so close to her. I should've kept my distance. I don't know what I was thinking." Bucky ran a hand down his face.

"Woah—wait. Where is this coming from?" Steve questioned. "I'm not good for her, Steve. She needs someone that can help her climb out of the pit—not someone who'll keep her from climbing out." He stated, voice shaky.

"Bucky, don't say that—" "Why not? It's true. She needs a knight in shining armour. Not a soldier with a shining arm." Bucky scoffed, trying to use humour to avoid making the situation more tense—though it was too late for that.

"You might not realise this, but... maybe that's exactly who she needs. Someone she can relate to. Someone who understands what she went through. For all you know—she could be thinking the same thing about you." Steve stated confidently.

"She's not thinking about me." Bucky chuckled. "Bucky I've seen the way she looks at you. It's the way—" Steve stopped, unsure if he should go on.

He needed his help right now. This secret was worth sharing. "It's the way Natasha looks at me." He smiled.

Bucky finally raised his head—locking eyes with Steve. "I was wondering when you'd tell me." He scoffed. "You knew?!" Steve exclaimed. "I think we all knew. I also saw you two kissing. So much for keeping it low-key." Bucky mocked.

"You saw that? Was Emilia with you?" Panic crossed Steve's face. "No—no. I was alone." Bucky bluffed, not wanting to put Emilia in an awkward position with her sister. "Okay... good." Steve sighed.

They shared a moment of silence—Steve hoping Bucky would speak up. "You really think she..?" Bucky started, but didn't have it in him to finish the sentence. "I really do. It's painfully obvious too." Steve grinned.

Bucky wondered for a moment, contemplating whether he should tell Steve what he's thinking or not.

It's Steve. You're supposed to be able to tell him anything.

"I'm scared, Steve. I don't know if I could make her happy. I don't know if I'm even capable of being in a relationship anymore. What if I turn again? What if I—what if I hurt her...?" Bucky's gaze dropped again, staring at his hands.

"You won't turn again—Bucky. And even if you do... she's a Black Widow.. I'm sure she'll be able to withstand it." Steve lightly chuckled. Bucky's smile was nowhere to be seen.

"How do you—how did it feel... to kiss—for the first time in seventy years?" Bucky asked shyly, wanting to drown in his seat. Steve let out a puff of air, amused by the question.

"Honestly—the first kiss was apparently not great. But I don't think it should be a problem for you, Buck. You were quite the man in the forties. I'm sure it would be like muscle memory for you." Steve laughed.

"You make me sound like a man-whore, Steve." Bucky scoffed, a soft smile showing. "Hey, now—I don't judge." Steve raised his hands in defeat. Bucky only rolled his eyes at him.

Steve walked over to the fridge, grabbing a plum from inside. "We have plums?" Bucky questioned. "Oh—yeah, Emilia went out to get them this morning. Bit odd, though—she didn't even take one for herself." Steve shrugged. Bucky raised an eyebrow, curiosity tugging at his mind.

Could she know...? No way, right?

"Hey, Steve—I'll be back, okay?" Bucky said with a smile. Steve only nodded at him, mirroring his expression. He already knew where he was headed.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

Emilia sat on the rooftop of the building—gazing at the stars. Breathing in the cold, fresh air.

The door to the roof suddenly burst open, revealing Bucky. Emilia jumped back at the sound, relaxing when she realised it was just Bucky. "There you are." Bucky smiled.

"Here I am!" Emilia exclaimed quietly, eyes still at the sky. "How'd you know I was here?" She added. "I went to your room—Natasha told me you came up here." He said gently, walking up to her and sitting by her side.

"So..." He started, turning to look at her, "The plums?" She sighed, "The plums... yeah—I just did some research, you know, I hear they've been linked to potential improvement in memory and cognitive function..." She met his gaze.

"Although, I think you already know that—hence your sweater smelling like plums. Oh—which reminds me, I forgot to give you back the sweater. I'm sorry—" "Keep the sweater, Mel." Bucky smiled. Emilia turned away, not knowing what to say. Just a smile tugging at her lips.

She went through that trouble—for me?

"Thank you.. for everything." He forced the words out of his mouth. She only dropped her gaze in response.

No words were spoken for a while, until they both decided to speak up at the same time. "I'm sorry."

They both looked at each other, confused. "Why are you sorry?" They said in sync once more. "Wait—let me go first." Bucky stated, not giving Emilia a chance to argue.

"I'm sorry for dumping all that on you yesterday—I should've just kept it to myself—" "Wait, what?" Emilia cut him off in disbelief, concerned that he'd say that.

"Bucky, don't ever apologise for sharing what you went through. I'm sorry for running out like that. I should've been there for you. I just—I didn't know it was going to be a sensitive subject for me. I'm so sorry." She added, eyes gazing at his.

"Don't ever be scared—or sorry for telling me anything. I promise I won't run away again." She smiled gently, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

Bucky only smiled back at her, overflowing with relief that he didn't mess anything up.

A sudden noise came from behind them, turning on both of their survival instincts. They both immediately got up, checking their corners. Bucky stood in a ready fighting pose, while Emilia swiftly pulled out the gun hiding under her jacket.

"Why do you have a gun?" Bucky whisper-shouted. "You never know when the situation calls for it, James." Emilia shouted back. Bucky rolled his eyes—wanting to smile, but Emilia could be in danger. This wasn't the time.

They slowly made their way towards the pile of boxes where the sound came from—their footsteps unheard. A large box shook, spooking Emilia.

What the hell is that?

Emilia looked closer, jumping back when a white cat jumped out of the box. Bucky laughed as he watched her catch her breath. "Thank god it wasn't a spider..." Emilia mumbled. "A spider—what were you gonna do, shoot it?" Bucky asked sarcastically with raised eyebrows.

"If the situation called for it." She snarled back, putting the gun away. She quickly sat down on her knees and started petting the cat. "She's so cute—look at her!" She smiled, lightly giggling.

"How do you know it's a girl? You didn't check yet." He asked, sitting down next to her. "You can tell by the face." She shrugged. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows and turned to her. "That can't be right." He scoffed.

"My mum never let us have any pets, but we'd always find cats in the backyard. I would pet and feed every single one of them. I became such a big cat person—I ended up learning how to differentiate males and females just by looking at their faces." She smiled.

Emilia lifted the cat’s face a little. "Males usually have a more mushy face and bulky builds—I guess. Females are usuallymore gentle have pointier faces, if that makes sense. I don't know—I just sense it, I guess." She shrugged once more.

Bucky smiled at her as she explained her thought process. He knew that couldn't scientifically make sense—but she seemed to know what she was talking about.

He turned his gaze back to the cat—admiring how gentle Emilia was with her. "Wait—you're afraid of spiders?" Bucky remembered, trying not to laugh.

Emilia glared at him before turning back to the cat. "Yeah, so?" She answered calmly. "But... you're a Black Widow..." He added.

Emilia slowly turned her head to face him. "What's your point, Barnes?" She snapped. "Isn't that like Spider-Man being afraid of spiders? Or Ant-Man afraid of ants?" He snorted.

Emilia glared daggers at him before responding. "The irony is not lost on me." She scoffed, turning back to the cat—a small smile on her face.

"Do you think we can keep her?" Emilia grinned at the thought. "I dunno, Mel. Is that a good idea?" He asked. She turned to look at him—pout on her face—giving him a pleading look.

It didn't take him longer than two seconds to change his mind after seeing her expression. "Let's go convince the team." He smirked. Emilia's grin returned, picking up the cat and holding her to her chest. "You're going to love Natasha, Alpine."

"Alpine?" Bucky raised an eyebrow. "The box she came out of was for alpine trees.. Why not name her Alpine?" She elaborated. "Alpine sounds good." Bucky smiled softly.

 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 

"Let me get this straight... You called an emergency meeting in the middle of the night.. because you found a cat?" Tony scoffed.

"A very cute cat, might I add." Vision commented. "We want to keep her. Let her be the Avengers mascot or something." Emilia suggested, Alpine still in her arms.

"Please—let's keep her!" Wanda added, smiling as she walked up to Emilia, immediately petting the cat. "What if she shits in my bed?!" Clint spoke up. "We'll make sure to keep her out of your room, Barton." Bucky added, standing a little behind Emilia.

"She's not even fully grown yet. She has no one. She needs a home." Emilia added on, her smile fading a little. "I don't see why not." Tony tilted his head, curiously studying the cat. "What if someone's allergic?" Steve chimed in.

"Like who?" Natasha asked. "Um... me?" Bruce answered shyly—sitting in the corner of the room. Tony contemplated for a moment. "Is it deadly?" He asked. "Well—no, but—" "Alright, great then. We keep the cat." Tony announced.

Emilia cheered, turning around to smile at Bucky. As he watched her, his heart bloomed with joy—mirroring hers.

"Have you tried holding her yet?" Emilia asked him gently. Bucky's smile dropped at the question. "I'm—I'm good." He forced a laugh.

Emilia saw right through it. "Come on, Buck. Pet Alpine. Look at her face—she's sad because you don't like her." Emilia teased. "I do like her—I just don't want to pet her, that's all." He took a step back, worry showing on his face.

Why doesn't he want to pet Alpine?

What if I hurt her?

Chapter 15: The Door

Notes:

I apologise for this chapter in advance.

"I watched the whole thing in one sitting." Emilia shrugged. Wanda and Natasha stared at her in amusement. "You did not watch an entire season of Game of Thrones in one sitting." Wanda scoffed.

"I did! I'm on the third season now." Emilia bragged. "When did you sleep?" Natasha questioned, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. "I napped." Emilia bluffed. Natasha narrowed her eyes at Emilia before brushing it off.

"What are you guys doing here?" Tony barged into Wanda's room, seemingly out of breath. "Talking?" Wanda scoffed. "Why?" Tony whined. They all tilted their heads in confusion—not sure what Tony meant.

They had been in Wanda's room for a few hours now. The activities varied from talking to singing to dressing up in fancy dresses. The three of them had been sitting on the bed for over an hour in their dresses.

"Why don't you move this party to the living room, huh?" Tony suggested, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "We're good." Emilia smiled, turning back to the girls. "Please..?" He added—more desperate now.

Emilia exchanged looks with Wanda and Natasha, the same confusion lingering in their eyes as in hers. "What's going on, Tony?" Natasha pressed. "Can you just trust me and come—down—stairs?" Tony sighed. Emilia was heavily suspicious of Tony in that moment, but the glimmer of excitement in his eyes gave him away.

He planned something, didn't he?

Emilia wanted to grill and interrogate him, but he seemed so joyful she didn't want to ruin it for him. "Alright.." She mumbled, getting up. Wanda and Natasha swiftly followed.

As they made their way downstairs, Emilia noticed how it was gradually getting darker the closer they got to the living room—almost completely unlit in the room itself.

"Are we about to get jumped?" Emilia joked, turning to Tony. He only grinned before turning on the lights.

As the lights flicked on with a sharp click, the room instantly burst to life. From behind couches, curtains, and even under the dining table, a crowd of smiling faces jumped up in unison, shouting, "Surprise!" Confetti cannons erupted with a soft pop, showering the air in bright colours.

The once-dark room was now filled with warmth and laughter, balloons bobbing above people's heads and a giant banner stretched across the back wall saying 'Happy Birthday!'

The look of stunned joy on Emilia's face was met with cheers and laughter from the crowd, some still holding half-inflated noisemakers and party hats askew from their hiding spots. Music kicked in, the scent of cake wafted through the air, and the celebration officially began.

She couldn't believe this was all for her. "You did this?" Emilia mumbled to Tony. "Don't get all sappy—I just wanted to throw a party." He shrugged, not showing the pride he was feeling at that moment. "Thank you, Tony." She whispered, smiling at him.

She turned around to look at Natasha and Wanda, who had an equal level of surprise shown on their faces. "Did you know about this?" Emilia nudged her sister. "No—I swear..." The redhead shook her head.

Steve and Sam walked up to her—both grinning. "Happy birthday, Em." Steve said softly, followed by a nod from Sam. "Thank you, guys." She smiled, looking around the room, watching all those people there—for her.

People would walk up to her, extending their congratulations. She felt so overwhelmed, having not celebrated her birthday in forever.

Her eyes searched the place for a particular person—not being able to hide her disappointment when she couldn't find him.

Steve walked up to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "He will be here in a minute, Mel. Don't worry." He whispered. Panic had crossed her face. "I—what—?" She couldn't get the words out—feeling caught.

Steve only grinned and turned to the door—watching Bucky enter the room. Emilia locked eyes with him, her smile returning. Steve walked away, giving them a moment to talk.

Bucky slowly made his way to her. His smile growing with every step that he took. "Sorry I'm late... I promise it was worth it." He smiled. "Happy birthday, Mel." He said gently.

Her heart felt overwhelmed with emotions. Smile frozen in place. "Thank you, Bucky.." She managed to say. He only grinned in response, eyes not leaving hers. "What do you mean, 'worth it'?" She questioned.

"Don't worry about it, Killer Queen." He laughed. Emilia's mouth flew agape. "Did you just—did you just quote Queen?" She asked in disbelief. "What happened to 'they're not classic' and that they're 'bad'?" Emilia scoffed, mimicking his voice.

Bucky chuckled, shrugging. "They're okay." He responded—trying to rile her up. "Okay? Okay?! Are you fucking with me?" She exclaimed.

It took her a moment to realise he was just trying to get a reaction out of her. His smirk gave him away. "You're a jerk, Barnes." She scoffed, letting out a chuckle too.

"Guys, come on! We are starting the game!" Natasha called out from the couch. "Game?" Emilia and Bucky asked in unison. "Yeah, truth or dare." Clint wiggled his eyebrows.

Emilia sighed as she made her way to the couch, Bucky joining her. She sat in between him and Natasha, crossing her legs.

"So—who goes first?" Asked Peter, excited to finally be included in an activity. "The birthday girl, of course." Sam grinned. Everyone drew their gaze to Emilia—her stomach turning. She narrowed her eyes at Sam, lightly scowling.

"You just spin the bottle and then—" "I know how the game works, Samuel." She scoffed, grabbing the bottle and spinning it. It landed on Thor, and he grinned with joy. Emilia's eyes lit up, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. "Truth or dare, Sparkles?" She teased. "To hell with it—truth." He responded.

She leaned forwards, locking eyes with him. "How does your hammer actually work?" She questioned curiously. "It's simple, really. Only those who are worthy can possess the power of the mighty Thor." He bragged.

Emilia grinned, an idea popping in her mind. "Can I try?" She asked mischievously, eyes locked in on the hammer lying on the table. "Be my guest." He laughed.

Everyone cheered for Emilia as she stood up, weakly grabbing the hammers handle. She fixed her stance, putting her second hand on the handle—now grabbing it firmly.

She tried pulling it for a few seconds until her arms gave out and she let go. "Thing's rigged." She scoffed, smiling. The room let out a few laughs as they watched her.

She turned around, eyes locking with Bucky's. "Wanna try, Barnes?" She challenged. His eyes widened in fear, everyone's gaze dropping to him. "I'm—I'm good." He forced a laugh.

"Come on, Buck. We've all tried it." Steve added. Bucky sighed, standing up. Emilia sat back down excitedly as she watched him walk up to it. "You got this!" She whispered.

He grabbed the handle firmly. For a moment—a glint of hope in his eyes. He briefly pulled on it, the hope disappearing from his eyes as fast as it had arrived.

He let go of the hammer and quietly sat back down. Emilia met his eyes—her heart breaking a little after seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

"Hey..." She nudged his arm. He slowly lifted his head to meet her eyes. "You don't need some hammer to tell you that you're worthy. You've got me for that." She smiled softly.

The dismay disappeared from his eyes, now replaced by something different. Something Emilia couldn't place. "Thank you.." He mumbled, returning the smile.

Emilia grinned, turning back to the table. The first thing she saw was Scott balancing a beer bottle on his head. "What's going on?" Emilia whispered in Natasha's ear. "Thor's dare." Natasha laughed. "Checks out." Emilia scoffed.

"Scott—your turn. spin." Clint spoke up. Scott quickly put the beer down and spun the bottle. It landed on Bucky.

Bucky sighed with dread. "Dare." He answered before even being asked. "Can I touch your metal arm?" Scott's eyes sparkled with excitement. Bucky narrowed his eyes at Scott—while Emilia tried holding in her laugh.

"Nevermind—truth." He added. Scott's grin faded. "Okay... how do you clean the arm?" He asked curiously. Bucky sighed once more. "Uh... wet cloth, I guess?" He answered.

Emilia looked down in thought. "Have you tried putting it in the dishwasher?" She asked in all seriousness. "What?" Bucky laughed, eyes finding her. "I'm serious—it could work." She added on.

"She's right. It would." Tony agreed, mouth full of blueberries. Steve choked on his drink, amused by the entire interaction. "I'm not trying that." Bucky stated confidently.

He'll change his mind.

"Sure, Buck." She smiled sarcastically. "Your turn," she added. He turned his attention to the bottle, spinning it.

Tony.

Bucky panicked, not knowing what to do. Tony didn't wait for the question. "Dare. Anything involving my tech is off the table." He spoke up.

Emilia noticed the look of panic on his face. Thinking on her feet, she quickly leaned over to Bucky, whispering a dare in his ear. Bucky flinched slightly at the contact, letting out a laugh after hearing her suggestion.

"Okay—um. Text Pepper that you kissed Steve and show us her reaction." Bucky snorted. Everyone except Steve and Tony laughed and cheered. "Oh my god—this is gonna be gold." Natasha grinned, finally interested in the conversation.

Tony ran a hand down his face before grabbing his phone and messaging Pepper. Emilia squealed in excitement, waiting in anticipation.

"Sent." Tony scoffed. He was just about to put his phone away when it started ringing. "Oh god." His eyes widened as he stared at the screen—he hadn't looked this terrified even when Emilia had a gun pointed at him.

Everyone got silent, awaiting for Tony to pick up the phone. He took a deep breath before answering the call. "Hey... Pepper—" "Anthony Edward Stark, you better be kidding or so help me God—" Pepper immediately cut him off, yelling through the speakers.

The whole room exchanged silent laughs as they all internally made fun of Tony. "Honey, it was a joke—I swear!" "I knew that dream had meaning, Anthony!" She cried out. Natasha burst out into laughter, briskly followed by Emilia and Bucky. Steve furrowed his eyebrows at Tony.

"Pep, it wasn't like that—" "We'll have a nice long talk about this when you get home, Stark." Pepper blurted before ending the call.

The crowd went silent, no one daring to be the first to speak. Tony cleared his throat before grabbing the bottle, spinning it immediately.

Once again, everyone's eyes fell on Emilia. "Truth or dare, birthday girl?" Tony questioned, hoping the heat from his dare fell onto her. "Uh.. Truth?" lie.

"Tell us, from everyone you've met so far—who do you like the most?" Tony grinned, knowingly setting her up for failure. Emilia thought about it for a moment before answering. "Well—Natasha, obviously." She smiled, finding a way out.

Everyone booed at her for the drama-lacking response, while Natasha grinned victoriously. Emilia shrugged, leaning back in her seat. She turned to look at Bucky, who was already looking at her. No expression on his face.

She leaned over a little, talking in just above a whisper. "You're a close second." She smiled softly. A grin grew on Bucky's face, his eyes searching hers for something. Something more.

"Anyone up for darts?" Clint spoke up as he noticed everyone lose interest in the game. "You always offer darts because you're better at them than everyone here." Wanda scoffed. "I just really love darts." He lied.

"No, you just want to show off." Bruce added on. "You know what? I'm down. Someone needs to humble him. Why not me?" Steve said confidently. "Be my guest.." Clint grinned.

Clint grabbed a dart, throwing it at the target, hitting a clean bullseye. "Your turn, Captain." He teased. Steve narrowed his eyes at Clint before grabbing a dart himself. He let out a deep breath and threw the dart with all his might.

The dartboard immediately broke in two. Steve had underestimated the strength at which he had thrown the dart. As Steve watched the broken board in the floor, he slowly looked up at Clint. "So... does that mean I win?" He asked playfully.

"You broke my board, Rogers." Clint stated. "Hey.. Nothing personal, right?" Steve forced a laugh. "Watch your every step from now on, Steve. I'm always watching. I'm in the walls." Clint said ominously.

"Ha ha... good joke, Barton." Steve's laugh faded as concern grew. "Watch. Your. Self." Clint hissed before stomping away.

Emilia and Bucky watched the entire exchange with grins on their faces, not even bothering to help out Steve. Everyone around them had already dispersed, going to their own thing.

"I'll go get us drinks." Bucky spoke up before disappearing to the kitchen. As Emilia sat there by herself, realisation hit her. Her smile would fade the longer she sat there.

Natasha saw her from across the room, walking over to the couch to join her. "Hey, you okay? Why the long face?" She smiled, trying to bring up her mood. Emilia locked eyes with Natasha, feeling a lump in her throat.

"This—this isn't right, Nat..." She mumbled. Natasha's smile dropped, eyebrows furrowing. She shifted closer to Emilia, now more concerned. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"Celebrating my birthday without... without Yelena isn't right. What is there to celebrate?" She scoffed. Natasha's gaze dropped in understanding. "You needed this break, Emilia. You've been searching for her restlessly for days. When we get her back, we'll celebrate, okay?" Natasha tried to be reassuring.

"She's still out there, Nat. For the last twenty-two hours we've been waiting on a response from Maria. I feel useless." Emilia scoffed. "Our hands are tied, Em. There is nothing more we could do with the limited resources that we have. We just need to be patient. Don't worry; we have time."

Time was the one thing they didn't have. That's what worried Emilia. The clock was ticking on Emilia's deadline, which meant Yelena's deadline too.

"You're probably right." Emilia fibbed, forcing a smile. Natasha smiled gently, lightly rubbing Emilia's back.

A slow-rhythmed song suddenly took over the room's speakers. Steve walked up to the pair and dragged his hand out in front of Natasha. "May I have this dance?" He grinned. She smiled at him before turning back to Emilia, awaiting her reaction.

Emilia mouthed 'go' and practically pushed her to stand up. Natasha chuckled as she walked away with Steve, heading towards the dance floor. Emilia sighed as she was once again left alone with her thoughts.

Bucky had finally come back with their drinks, handing her one of them. "You okay?" He asked with concern as he noticed her change in demeanour. She only hummed in response, her eyes on the drink.

An idea suddenly came to Bucky as he swiftly stood up, walking over to the DJ's booth. He walked back over to Emilia moments later, noticing how she didn't even realise he had left.

It took a moment before the song on the speakers switched to Frank Sinatra's The World We Knew. Emilia's eyes lit up as soon as she heard the very first melody play. "God, I love this song..." She mumbled under her breath.

"Then dance with me." Bucky spoke up, holding out a hand in front of her. She looked up to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say. As if her body had made the decision before her mind could catch up, her hand slipped into his.

He gently pulled her up from her seat and walked her over to the dance floor. "I—I don't know how to dance." Emilia admitted. "Don't worry. I'll show you." He smiled. He lifted her arms over his shoulders and softly put his hands around her waist, slightly pulling her closer.

"Just follow my lead." He spoke softly. Emilia nodded, so scared to mess up—her legs were shaking. "Who knew Bucky Barnes could dance?" Emilia laughed. "I'm full of surprises, Mel." He said in a low voice, smirking.

Bucky held her like she was made of something fragile, yet unshakable, all at once. Their movements weren't perfect, but they didn't need to be. Every misstep was softened by a smile, every breath shared between them was unspoken understanding.

“You look beautiful.” Bucky muttered. “You are beautiful.” He added, smiling softly. Emilia only smiled in response, not knowing how to respond to a compliment. 

"I made something for you." Bucky spoke softly. She furrowed her eyebrows, not expecting a gift from him. "Made?" He slowly retracted his hands from her waist, making her pull her arms down too.

He gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her away from the dance floor. "Where are we going?" Emilia giggled. "Somewhere private." He explained. Bucky dragged her into a large storage room, closing the door behind them.

He walked up closer to Emilia, a huge smile on his face. He grabbed a small jewellery box from his tux's pocket and carefully opened it.

It was a carefully carved wooden pendant with an incredibly detailed three-headed dragon emblem on it. It was the Targaryen symbol from Game of Thrones.

Emilia stared at it, not knowing what to say. "You seemed to like that show with dragons, so..." He shrugged.

This must've taken him hours... maybe even days..

"Turn around." He nudged. She did as he said. He slowly put the necklace over her head, laying it on her collar. She lifted her hair to make it easier for him to attach the chain. His fingers grazed her skin, that little contact sending a chill down her spine.

She quickly turned back around, facing him once more. He didn't waste any time and quickly put his arms around her again. She reciprocated, putting her arms around his neck.

"You didn't have to..." she whispered, her voice barely carrying through the quiet of the room. "I wanted to," Bucky replied, his eyes locked on hers.

A silence followed, thick with something unnameable. Emilia clutched the pendant gently, her thumb tracing the smooth edge. Her heart thudded a little too loudly in her chest.

Then he stepped closer.

So close, she could feel his warmth. His hand, tentative but certain, lifted to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his knuckles grazing her cheek with a softness that made her forget how to breathe.

His head dipped slightly, eyes flicking to her lips, then back to her eyes as if silently asking—can I?

Their breath mingled in the inches between them. Her hand reached up without thinking, resting lightly against his chest. For a moment, time hung suspended. His lips were barely a breath away from hers.

But just before they could meet, she pulled back. Gently. Reluctantly.

Bucky blinked, as if waking from a dream.

"I—I'm sorry... I can't. Not like this." She trembled, backing away.

Bucky's smile faltered, not sure what went wrong.

"Mel—what's wrong? Did I—did I do something? I'm sorry—" "No, no, Bucky. You didn't do anything..." She tried composing herself.

"Then what is it? What happened?" Bucky pressed once more, voice caring and filled with concern. Emilia took a deep breath before speaking. "I haven't been entirely honest with you, Bucky..." She started.

He has to know. It's only fair.

Bucky didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue. She sat down on a chair, running a hand down her face. "When I was in the red room, a few years in, the Red Room came up with a new kind of serum. The REM-13. Stands for Rapid Encephalic Manipulation, test thirteen." She sighed, looking up at him.

"The previous tests all failed. Every person that received the serum died gruesomely. The thirteenth one was the only one that didn't. They planned to give it to all the other Widows, but when they realised the chemical compound that they used to mind-control us didn't work on me anymore, they didn't risk trying it on the other Widows. It was too much of a liability." She explained.

"What did it do to you?" He questioned, anger rising. "It gives you the ability to manipulate neural pathways, alter dreams... memories..." She trailed off. Bucky's breath hitched, already knowing where this was going.

"That day, when Steve found out you were the Winter Soldier... when you remembered him.. I was sent in to—um.. I got sent to the Hydra base where they were keeping you. I was tasked with wiping your core memories of Steve... It got out of hand, making you forget more than intended..." She finally let it out.

Bucky stumbled back. His world shattering into a million pieces. "This whole time... it was you?" His voice cracked, the betrayal shown on his face. "I'm so sorry, Bucky! I didn't have a choice—" "Of course, you had a choice, Emilia!" Bucky cried out, eyes glossy.

"Did you even try to fight it? Did you at least try to fight for me?" Bucky's voice got louder. Emilia stayed quiet, dragging her gaze to the floor. No.

"Everything I've told you—everything about my parents?" Bucky started trembling. "Did you even once think about telling me?" He talked through his teeth, walking further back. "Of course, I did! Every time I locked eyes with you, that's all I could think about!" Emilia shouted back, tears running down her face.

"I can't believe this..." Bucky mumbled, pacing around the room. Emilia sighed before speaking up again. "There's more..." Bucky only scoffed.

"I wasn't sent here to assassinate Tony." She stated. Bucky froze, looking into her eyes. His gaze shifted. He never looked at her this way before. She hated it. "What were you sent for?" He pushed. The words were stuck in Emilia's throat. "Tell me!" He yelled.

Emilia shook, never seeing this side of Bucky before. "I was sent to bring the Winter Soldier back." She stated coldly.

Bucky felt like the air had been knocked out of him. The room spun, but he stood frozen—numb. Her words echoed like gunfire in his mind, louder than any battlefield.

Of all the people, her. The one person he was starting to let in, starting to trust. And now, it was as if every wound she tried to stitch shut had been ripped open again.

Not anger. Not fear. Just a deep, aching betrayal.

"Bucky—I can explain—" "Stay here." Bucky snarled, storming out of the room. Emilia quickly got up from her seat, wanting to run after him, wanting to find a way to fix this, but he shut the door in her face. Locking it.

He locked it.

"Bucky—please let me out! Please just talk to me!" She pleaded, banging on the door. Every hit feeling like a punch to the gut. "Please let me out!" She cried, voice breaking.

It took Bucky every fibre of his being not to open that door. A tear ran down his face as his hand hovered over the lock.

"Bucky... Are you still there?" She wept, but he was already gone. It was over. Her cover, her mission. Everything.

Their story was over before it even began.

Chapter 16: Prison Transfer

Emilia had lost track of how long she'd been locked in the cell—hours, at least. She sat curled up in the corner, her back pressed against the cold metal wall, arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

The space was barren. No bed. No toilet. Not even a blanket to dull the chill that clung to the air. It was a temporary cage—that much was obvious. They were planning to move her.

Where to, she didn't know. And she didn't want to find out. All she knew was that she was still somewhere in the compound.

But none of that mattered as much as the memory playing on a loop in her head—the look on Bucky's face when she told him the truth. The shock in his eyes. The betrayal in his voice. It gutted her.

She felt sick. Like she could throw up. Or scream. Or cry until she disappeared. There was so much she wanted to do—but more than anything, she wanted to see him. To explain.

But the silence wrapped around her like chains, and all she had was the weight of his voice echoing in her mind.

Though deep down she knew he wouldn't forgive her. Why would he? As much as she tried making herself feel like a victim, she is still the one to blame. She knew that much.

The main door suddenly opened with a loud thud. Emilia quickly crawled to the window of her cell, hoping to see Bucky. However, it was the last person she expected to see.

Tony slowly walked up to Emilia, his gaze burning with disappointment.

Emilia shifted back to the corner again, avoiding his eyes. "Go on." She started. "Let's hear the 'I told you so' and 'I was right for not trusting you.'" Emilia scoffed. Tony didn't respond. He just kept staring at her.

She was confused as to why he wasn't talking, turning her head to look at him. He took a deep breath before speaking up. "Why would you do this?" He asked in just over a whisper, arms crossed. Emilia didn't respond, her gaze falling again.

"We took you in, Emilia. As one of our own. That kind of trust doesn't come lightly. Why would you do this to m—" He paused, the words hitching at his throat. "Why would you do this to Natasha? I've never seen her love anyone more than you, and this is how you give back that love?" He tried saying calmly, but the hurt behind his voice was noticeable.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I really am. But right now can I please talk to Bucky?" She pleaded, looking up at him again. Tony sighed, clicking his tongue. "He doesn't want to see you right now. Or ever." He stated coldly.

That line felt like a blade straight through her chest. She grabbed onto the necklace Bucky gave her like her life depended on it. Tony was about to speak up again when the door opened once more. This time with more urgency.

"Tony, what the fuck?" Natasha yelled out as she quickly made her way to the two. "I was trying to find Emilia when Steve told me you locked her up? Tony, I will—" "She's still working for the Red Room, Natasha." Tony cut her off.

Natasha's scowl dropped, now replaced with a mix of emotions. "What?" She mumbled, turning to look at Emilia. Emilia shifted to face the wall, not being able to look at the hurt and betrayal on her sister's face.

"I'll let you two talk." Tony sounded before walking off. Natasha stood frozen. Just gaping at Emilia. "Is this true, Mel?" She whispered.

"I had to, Natalia. For Yelena." Emilia confessed, her voice raspy. The name seemed to snap Natasha out of her state. "What do you mean?" Natasha questioned, more concern filling her mind rather than confusion.

"They told me that—if I didn't give them Bucky back... That they would—" Emilia choked up, eyes watering. "They are going to kill Yelena, Nat. I was the only one who could save her. He was my mission, and I failed." She cried.

"We can still save her." Natasha stated. "There's no time. He gave me a week deadline six days ago. She will lose her fingers one by one once the deadline's crossed. But he won't stop there. He'll eat away at her until there's nothing left to torment. Until—" "Emilia, stop!" Natasha cried out.

"I know where she is." She added. "What? How?" a glint of hope shone in Emilia's eyes. "That's why I was looking for you. Maria came through. She found her. We can save her, Mel." "Look around, Nat! There is no we. You have to do it. I can't save our little sister." She cried out, the tears getting stronger.

"You let me worry about getting you out, okay?" Natasha answered, backing away. She was about to walk back to the door when Emilia called for her. "Nat—Wait!"

Natasha stopped abruptly, turning around to look at Emilia. She furrowed her eyebrows at her. "Can you please get Bucky to come and see me before you get me out? Please...?" Emilia asked softly. 

"Look, Mel—" "Please." She insisted. "I'll see what I can do." Natasha sighed before walking out.

Emilia knew now more than ever that if Natasha's plan were to work out, she'd never see Bucky again. She needed to talk to him.

One last time.

She had sat there for what felt like an hour when she heard someone set foot inside the quarters. She quickly stood up, sprinting towards the glass barricade.

It was him. He came to see her. He's here. 

He walked up to her with features unable to read. Emilia looked into his eyes but it felt like there was nothing behind them. He had learnt how to hide his emotions all too well.

He didn't say anything as he stood there, waiting for Emilia to say what she wanted to. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Buck, listen—" "Don't call me that." He said passively, but she could feel the spite behind those words.

Emilia tried to hide the hurt that sentence had caused, but it was getting harder the longer she looked at him. "I'm really sorry, James—about everything. I really did want to tell you sooner, but—" "But you didn't." He stated.

"You don't know what I sacrificed by confessing everything to you." Emilia snarled. "Oh yeah? Like what? Your glory? Your pride?" He scoffed. "Yelena could die because I'm in here!" She cried out. Bucky's snarl disappeared, replaced with bafflement.

"What are you talking about?" He stared at her blankly. "I know I'm at fault here, Bucky! I know that. But when I said I had no choice, I meant it. I had to choose between bringing you back to Hydra and saving my sister's life. That's a godawful position to be in, but what would you do in my place?" She snapped.

Bucky didn't answer. "I fucked up. I know. There's nothing I can do to make things better, but I wanted you to know I didn't do it out of spite." She added on, more calm this time.

Bucky clenched his jaw before talking, "What was the plan?" Emilia furrowed her eyebrows. "I—what?" "What was your grandiose plan to bring the Winter Soldier back?" He pushed, crossing his arms.

Emilia's breath hitched, backing away from the window. Bucky walked up closer, burning daggers into her. "Well? It had to be mental, right? No way they'd send a Widow to overpower a super-soldier... So tell me, Emilia. What was the plan?" He hissed.

Emilia gulped before answering, already knowing telling him will only make it worse. "I was ordered to make you..." she shut her eyes, "fall for me."

Bucky exhaled, the walls closing in on him. "Are you fucking kidding me, Emilia?" He yelled. Emilia covered her mouth in disbelief that she had told him.

"So what was it, huh? Was any of it real, Emilia? The nights we talked until the sun came up? The way you looked at me like I was more than some broken weapon—was that part of the act too?"

He started pacing, breath heavy, eyes glossy with fury and heartbreak. "Did they teach you to say the things I needed to hear? Did they tell you to look at me like you loved me—or was that your idea?"

He stopped and turned to her, jaw clenched, like he was forcing the words out before they shattered him.

"I let you in. God, I let you in. Do you know how fucking hard that was? After everything they did to me—after everything I did? I gave you the one thing I never gave anyone else. And you turned it into a mission file."

His voice cracked a little. "And the worst part? The worst goddamn part is I don't know where the lie ends and where youbegin." he gritted his teeth.

Emilia was overflowing with emotions, not expecting him to say any of those words—good or bad. "I can't believe none of it was real." He scoffed. "It was real. It wasn't just for show—" "No, no—you can't say that Me—Emilia. You don't know that!" The tears came before he could stop them.

Emilia furrowed her eyebrows, not sure what he meant. "You can't know whether those feelings are real or not anymore! It was always a mission for you. You had to keep up the act. Your brain makes you fucking think that. But it's not real—no. It's not real." He huffed with a disbelieving smile.

Emilia couldn't move. Was he right? Is that all she felt? Was the mission so deeply imbedded in her head that it messed with her feelings?

Emilia couldn't argue with that. She didn't know what that's like. What love is like. She's never even liked a boy before. This was all so new to her; she didn't know what to think.

"I—but... no, it can't be.." She mumbled, pressing her back against the wall. Bucky shook his head lightly, dissociating. He clicked his tongue before speaking for the last time. "I hope your sister's okay." He turned around and walked away, wiping the tears off his cheek.

Emilia slid down the wall, hugging her knees. Her world just came crashing down, and she didn't know what to do about it. She didn't know how to feel. How to act.

She just sat there. Contemplating for hours until someone finally came in through the door again.

An unrecognisable woman ran up to the cell, unlocking the door. "Come on, let's go. There's no time." The woman hurried. Emilia stood up, getting defensive. "Who are you?" She questioned.

The woman walked inside the cell, peeling off a mask like skin, revealing her real self. "It's me, dumbass. Come on!" Natasha rolled her eyes, pulling the mask back on. Emilia raised her eyebrows, swiftly following Natasha.

"What's the plan?" She asked cautiously. Natasha dangled a pair of handcuffs in front of Emilia with a grin. Emilia sighed, putting her arms behind her back. "The cameras and sensors are off. There should be no one in the hallways—and if there is, just play along." Natasha elaborated, putting the cuffs on her sister.

"How did you pull this off?" Emilia asked in the spur of the moment. "I had help." Natasha grinned, grabbing Emila's arm. "Walk, prisoner." She shifted her demeanour. Emilia rolled her eyes, doing as she said.

They walked out of the cell quarters, Natasha guiding Emilia. They slowly made their way around the compound, avoiding the main areas. It was just after sunrise, meaning most of the workers should be sleeping.

God, how I hope I don't run into him.

They almost made it to the exit when an agent walked up to them.

"Hey, what are you doing with her?" He asked accusingly. "Prison transfer." Natasha answered confidently. The man studied the pair for a few seconds. "Alright then. Carry on." He added, letting them pass.

Emilia let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as they exited the building. She gave one last look at the compound before she got forced into a loading truck.

Emilia was baffled, unaware this had been part of the plan. As she got into the trunk, she saw two familiar faces. "What the fuck?" Emilia blurted as she stared at the pair in front of her.

Alexei and Melina. Her 'parents'.

"Дорогая! (Darling!)" The man chuckled, grabbing Emilia to pull her into a hug, the smell of beer and ink consuming her. "You stink." She said, immediately backing away, standing beside Natasha. "Well, hello to you too, Emilya." Melina smiled.

She turned to look at the redhead with annoyance. "Why—how are they here?" "We need them for this mission, Mel." Natasha explained, taking off her mask and Emilia's cuffs.

Emilia sighed, sitting parallel to her parents. "Isn't he supposed to be in jail? How is he here?" She whispered to Natasha. "I had help." The redhead grinned. Emilia scoffed. "Can you please tell me who this help is already?" She whined.

"After Clint found out about your situation, he told me he was willing to help with whatever you needed." Natasha elaborated. A small smile grew on Emilia's face for the first time all night. Not everyone hates her. That made her feel slightly better.

Natasha hit the wall of the truck twice; whoever was at the wheel started up the vehicle immediately. "Who's driving?" Emilia asked Natasha cautiously as the truck started moving. "Old friend of mine, Ranjit. He owed me." She smirked. Emilia rolled her eyes, looking back at the pair in front of her.

"Long time no see, huh?" Emilia stated almost emotionlessly. "Is that any way to greet the people who raised you as their own?" Melina asked condescendingly. "You're right. It's not. It's how you greet people who gave you away to become a child assassin." Emilia snarled.

"Are we seriously still hung up on that? Grow up, Mel." Alexi mocked. "Don't you fucking call me that. You lost the right to fifteen years ago." Emilia spat. "Hey! You treat your father with some respect!" Melina called out. "Hah! That's rich. So now he's my father? It's a little too late for that, don't you think, Melina?" Emilia faked a laugh.

"Can you all just shut up?" Natasha spoke up. "We are here to save Yelena, not break up what's left of this family." She stated. Everyone went quiet, gazes dropping.

Emilia mumbled "Sorry," then followed Alexei and Melina. Natasha sighed, leaning back in her seat, finally letting her head rest. Emilia stared at her hands as she fidgeted with her necklace. She was starting to zone out when Natasha spoke up once more.

"You thinking about him?" She asked softly. Emilia shot her eyes at her sister. "When you asked me to tell him to go see you... he told me what happened between you two." Natasha added.

"Ah, so you know that I'm the worst person in the world?" Emilia huffed. "Em, that is an impossible situation. I would've done the same thing." Natasha rubbed her sister's back. "But you also can't blame him for being upset or angry."

"I know. I'm not. It's just—it's hard, Natalia. I don't think he'll ever forgive me." Emilia muttered. "You need to give him time, Em. He's gonna need a lot of it." Natasha whispered.

"It doesn't matter anymore anyway." "What do you mean?" Natasha questioned. "Don't worry about it." Emilia forced a smile. Natasha furrowed her eyes, shrugging when Emilia didn't follow up.

It didn't matter anymore because Emilia was sure she'd never see him again. She couldn't go back there again. She knew that. But she didn't know how to tell Natasha that.

Natasha grabbed her bag from the empty seat beside her, grabbing something. "Take this." She commanded, handing Emilia a small tube filled with a red substance. "What's this?" Emilia questioned.

"An old friend of mine developed an antidote for the chemical subjugation they use on the Widows. The one you told me about. One breath of this stuff and she should snap out of it when we find her." The redhead elaborated.

Emilia nodded in understanding, grabbing the vial. She was about to put it in her pocket when she realised she was still in her dress from the night before. 

"Don't worry. You'll change on the jet." Natasha reassured. "How did you get a jet?" Emilia scoffed. "Small favour from Maria." The redhead explained.

"Small is an understatement." Emilia smiled. Natasha turned back around, now staring at the floor.

"I'm really sorry for not telling you about everything. I was so scared word could get back to them... Then they'd kill her on the spot." Emilia spoke softly. "I know, Em. You did what you had to do."

"I'm also sorry about the situation I put you in with Steve." Emilia added. Natasha raised her head, locking eyes with Emilia. "What?" "I know he probably hates me too. You helping me escape can't make it any better."

"Don't worry about that, Emilia. He'll be fine." Natasha said calmly. "No—but I do worry. If you guys break up, it would be my fault—" "Emilia. There's not a line I wouldn't cross for you. If Steve breaks things off because of you, then he wasn't worth it to begin with." Natasha stated.

Emilia nodded slowly. She was truly grateful for Natasha, but she still couldn't help but feel guilty about everything she's putting her through. But there was only so much she could worry about. She needed to prioritise Yelena right now.

She looked back at Alexei and Melina. Alexei was out cold, drooling from the side of his face. Meanwhile, Melina drew a pig on his bare shoulder, giggling.

Match made in heaven.

Notes:

For context, Emilia is Emilya/Emiliya in Russian. (pronunciation difference)

Chapter 17: The Vial

Summary:

I'm back)) Sorry for the late update.. I don't know how, but I managed to watch 8 seasons of How I Met Your Mother since posting the last chapter. Anyway, enjoy this little family reunion!!

"Arriving in five. Everyone ready?" Natasha called out from the cockpit of the jet, Emilia by her side. "Melina—did you shrink my suit or something? It's too tight in all the wrong places." Alexei called out from the bathroom.

Emilia gagged at the comment, making Natasha chuckle. "I don't think it's the suit, Al." Melina responded from the other side of the jet.

Everyone was dressed and ready—everyone but Alexei. He was taking an excruciatingly long time with getting dressed. Melina had brought him his old suit from when he was the Red Guardian. He has gained a visible amount of weight in prison, but it didn't seem to stop him from forcing it to fit.

He walked out of the bathroom, showing off his suit whilst twirling. "Nice, huh?" He grinned. "Looking sexy." Melina teased. "Nat, please tell me we're there." Emilia pleaded. "Landing the jet as we speak." She responded.

Emilia sighed in relief, buckling her seatbelt. "Alexei, you should probably sit down." Natasha called out. "You think the Red Guardian can't handle a little landing?" Alexei laughed, flexing his muscles.

Moments later, the plane's speed started accelerating, making him trip and fall flat on the floor. "Hah! Nice one, Nat." Emilia laughed, fist-bumping her sister. "This is elder abuse." Alexei grimaced, grabbing onto the seat beside him.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Somewhere deep in the Russian wilderness, hidden beneath camouflaged netting, lied an underground Red Room facility—one of the last few standing.

A chill ran down Emilia's spine as the thought of Yelena crossed her mind. She was so close to her—it didn't feel real.

Emilia crouched beside Natasha. Alexei stood behind them, fidgeting impatiently, while Melina scanned the area through thermal binoculars.

"Four guards at the east entrance. Cameras are wired to a central feed. If we split, we only have a thirty-minute window before the next patrol cycle." Melina whispered.

"We'll be in and out by then." Natasha reassured. "Just like old times." Alexei grinned. Natasha gave him a sharp glance. He hushed down.

"We split. Alexei and I will take the lower levels. Natasha, check the west wing. Emilia—north labs." Melina stated. "Copy." Emilia responded. They exchange one last look, a flicker of trust between once-broken bonds.

Emilia made her way through the dimly lit hallways lined with reinforced glass and steel. Her eyes darted to every corner. Every sound. Her breathing was slow and controlled.

She walked by empty cells. Empty labs. Recently used equipment. Then—a muffled scream.

She froze.

Through the narrow vertical window, she saw her.

Yelena.

She saw an older agent swing at Yelena with a baton, thrashing it against her ribs. But she didn't cry out this time.

"Твоя сестра, должна действительно тебя не любит, если она позволяет этому случиться с тобой, а? (Your sister must really not love you if she's letting this happen to you, huh?)" He spat. Emilia's blood ran cold.

She stepped back, pulse thundering. She had no plan. No backup. But Yelena was in there. The light from her face was fading.

She had to act now.

Emilia slowly drew her knife, heart pounding in her ears. The hallway was silent and empty. She took a deep breath.

The agent lifted the baton again. Yelena clenched her teeth, her body twitching in pain.

Suddenly the steel door burst open. The sound echoing down the corridor.

Emilia charged in—knife in one hand, fury in her eyes. The agent turned around, startled. "Step away from her." Emilia stated.

He lunged at her—she sidestepped.

She slammed him into the wall, knocking the breath out of him. He swung wildly, but she ducked low and drove her knee into his gut.

He stumbled, and Emilia tackled him to the ground. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it until it snapped.

He howled. Emilia didn't flinch.

She pinned him with her knee, her knife at his throat.

"Emiliya?" Yelena groaned. Emilia looked up. That voice shattering something inside her.

The agent tried to buck her off, so she slammed the hilt of the knife into his temple. He was out cold.

Emilia rushed to Yelena's side, frantically unfastening the restraints. "Yelena... are you okay? I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner—"

"Предательница. (Traitor.)" Yelena spat. "What...?" Emilia stepped back. Yelena suddenly lunged at her sister, using all the strength she had left.

It took Emilia a second to remember she was still being brainwashed.

The vial.  

Emilia tried pushing Yelena off gently while she grabbed the vial with her other hand. Yelena didn't back down. She used all the energy left in her to fight the brunette.

Emilia's heart was slowly shattering with every weak punch Yelena threw. Nothing but hate in her eyes. Emilia quickly brought the vial up to her face, breaking it immediately.

The red mist spread through the air rapidly. Her brows knit together in confusion, her body tensing as the red vapour curled around her face. She inhaled instinctively.

Her lashes fluttered. Her lips parted in a small, shaking breath. Her expression softened, then fell to Emilia—eyes glistening.

"Oh my god... Mel...?" She muttered. Emilia's breath hitched, a weight lifting off of her chest. A smile grew on her face when—Yelena suddenly collapsed.

Emilia's heart dropped, immediately wrapping her arms around Yelena, trying to pull her up. Yelena struggled, having no strength left in her legs.

Emilia cupped her face, checking to see if she was conscious or not. Yelena wore a weak smile, quickly followed by tears. "Ты нашла меня.. (You found me..)" She mumbled.

Yelena looked almost unrecognisable—her face swollen, one eye nearly shut, and a split lip caked with dried blood. Bruises painted her jaw, her arms, and even her ribs.

Her wrists were raw, bound tight enough to leave red marks, and her usually sharp gaze was glassy, dazed. But when she saw Emilia—really saw her—there was a flicker of something beneath all that pain.

Relief.

Emilia pulled her into a weak hug, trying not to hurt her. Yelena reciprocated just barely. "You're okay now. You're okay." Emilia said softly. "You came alone?" Yelena asked weakly.

"The whole family's here. For you." Emilia smiled, pulling away. "Natasha's here?" Yelena mumbled. Emilia smiled, nodding gently. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

"Are you comfortable?" Emilia asked worriedly as she helped Yelena up on the medical table. Melina was getting the medical supplies ready for use while Alexei sat and watched from the corner of the jet.

"I'm fine." She smiled, looking around the jet. "Where's, um, Natasha?" She added softly. "She ran into some trouble. Nothing she can't handle. She's coming, don't worry." Emilia reassured.

Yelena nodded softly in understanding, her hair rough and dried with a hint of blood in the midst.

"I'm going to take care of you, okay?" Melina chimed in. Something ticked in both Emilia's and Yelena's heads at Melina's words. They couldn't remember the last time she had said something caring.

"O-okay.." Yelena agreed, staying alert. Emilia grabbed her hand, gently rubbing it. As though silently saying, I'm here.

The three of them turned to the door when they heard rapid footsteps approaching.

"Yelena..." Natasha mumbled out of breath. Yelena's entire body tensed, like she'd just stepped in cold water. She wanted to be mad at her. Ask her why she never looked for her. Was she too busy saving the world to save her little sister?

Before she could think of what to say, Natasha ran up to her and wrapped her arms around her neck. Yelena froze, not reciprocating the hug.

Natasha backed away after a moment, looking Yelena in the eyes. "Are you okay—" "Why are you here, Natasha?" Yelena cut her off.

"Matter of fact—why are any of you here? Emiliya actually stuck by me. Can't say the same for all of you. All three of you abandoned us. If this is you trying to make up for time lost, you'll have to try better than that." Yelena scoffed, wincing at the disinfectant reaching her wound.

Natasha's voice cracked before it could form a word. What Yelena said wasn't true, but it also wasn't entirely false. She wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for Emilia. She wouldn't be searching for either of them.

She was a bad sister, and she had to stop pretending like she wasn't. They were barely even a family.

"I'm sorry, Yelena..." was all Natasha could say, taking a step back. They exchanged looks back and forth until Natasha finally decided to walk over to the cockpit and start up the jet.

Emilia gave Yelena a worried look at their encounter, nudging her hand. "Take it easy on her. We wouldn't have found you if it wasn't for her." Emilia whispered in her ear.

Yelena scoffed, retracting her hand. Melina didn't say a word, silently attending to her wounds. Yelena had forgotten how comforting it was having someone take care of her. Especially her mum.

Emilia knew Yelena needed a moment to herself. Wrap her mind around everything. She made her way to the seat with a clear view of the medbay, watching Melina patch her up the entire time.

No more words were exchanged for the rest of the flight. Up until they reached Melina's countryside house.

Alexei offered to help Yelena walk down to the house, but she rejected the offer immediately. Emilia followed up, hooking her arm around Yelena's waist. Yet this time, Yelena didn't protest and let her help. Alexei didn't try hiding his hurt expression.

They all made their way to the house, passing by the small pig farm. The girls figured they could ask Melina about the pigs later.

They dropped their bags at the doorstep upon entry, examining the house. "Cozy." Emilia stated, admiring the homey interior design of the house.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Make yourselves at home." Melina mumbled, walking through the hallway. Yelena looked around, feeling a sense of comfort from it. A feeling of what could have been.

"Are there any booby traps around? Or anything we need to worry about?" Natasha spoke up as Melina followed her into the kitchen. "I didn't raise my girls to fall in traps." "You didn't raise us at all." Natasha corrected.

"Maybe so—but if you've gone soft, it wasn't on my watch." Melina responded coldly. Natasha didn't answer, turning away.

"Girls! Come eat!" Melina called out into the hallway. Emilia and Yelena perked up their heads at the mention of food. Emilia helped Yelena up from the seat by the entrance, walking her to the dining table.

They joined Melina and Natasha, who were already sitting parallel to each other. They did the same—Emilia sitting on Natasha's left and Yelena on Melina's right.

Alexei walked over to the table with a thick grin on his face, sitting down with a loud thud. "Family. Back together again." He said proudly.

"Well, seeing as our family construct was nothing but an elevated ruse that only lasted three years, I don't think we can use this—this term anymore, can we?" Melina shrugged.

"Agreed." Natasha bluffed, knowing that's not how she truly felt.

"So—family reunion, huh?" Alexei started, turning to Melina. "I want to say something right off the bat—you haven't aged a day. You're just as beautiful and as supple as the day they staged our marriage." He muttered.

Everyone except for Melina cringed in disgust, washing away the entire conversation with alcohol. "You got fat." Melina stated, making Emilia snort. "But still good." She continued, making Emilia feel unsettled once more.

"I just got out of prison. I got a lot of energy." Alexei flirted, making Melina grin. "Please don't do that." Natasha stated in disgust, the smell of vodka already radiating off of her.

"So, what's the plan—" Emilia started but immediately got cut off by Melina. "Emiliya, don't slouch." She said firmly. Emilia looked baffled. "I'm not slouching—" "Yes, you are. You're going to get a back hunch." Melina rolled her eyes.

"Oh my god, enough! All of you." Natasha snapped. "That's not fair—I didn't even say anything.." Yelena mumbled. "You should eat something, Yelena." Emilia nudged the food plate in front of her. "I'm not hungry, Em." She stated back.

Emilia narrowed her eyes at Yelena, as though seeing through the wall she tried to build up. Yelena sighed and took a bite of her food, sticking out her tongue at Emilia. She only grinned victoriously.

"Alright, listen." Natasha brought back Melina's attention. "How is Dreykov still alive?" She spat impatiently. "You can't defeat a man who controls the very will of others. You never saw the culmination of what we started in America." Melina answered, turning to look at Alexei, "Nor did you."

She called in a pig inside the living room, leaving everyone speechless. "Did that pig just open the door?" Natasha asked, puzzled. "Yes, it did. Good boy, Alexei." She grinned, petting the pig.

"You named a pig after me?" Alexei grimaced. "You don't see the resemblance?" She teased. "Now watch. Stop breathing." She commanded the pig. It surrendered immediately, doing as she asked. Emilia and Yelena watched in horror.

"We infiltrated the North Institute in Ohio. It was a front for shield scientists. Actually, it was Hydra scientists at the time. In conjunction with the Winter Soldier project, they had dissected and deconstructed the human brain to create the first and only cellular blueprint of the basal ganglia." Melina started explaining.

She went on in detail, but Emilia didn't hear any of it. The mention of the Winter Soldier made her head spin. Bucky's face of heartbreak flashing before her eyes.

She snapped back to reality when she saw the look of bewilderment on Yelena's face, tuning back into the conversation.

"The world functions on a higher level when it is controlled. Dreykov has chemically subjugated agents planted around the globe." Melina continued.

"And do you know who they test it on?" Emilia spoke up, fighting back tears. "Hm... That's not my department." "Come on, don't lie to them." Alexei interrupted Melina.

"I'm not lying—" "You're Dreykov's architect." Alexei stated. "If I was his architect, you were his partner. You were his business partner—" Melina argued back. "He sell me ideology!"

"Shut up!" Natasha cried out. "You're an idiot." She declared to Alexei, then turned to look at Melina, "And you're a coward." She snarled.

"For a couple of undercover agents, I think we did pretty great as parents." He shrugged. "Yes, we had our orders, and we played our roles to perfection." Melina agreed.

"Who cares? That wasn't real?" Natasha scoffed. "What?" Yelena's mouth fell agape. Emilia stayed silent, overwhelmed by the entire interaction. "That wasn't real. Who cares?" Natasha continued.

"Don't say that. Please don't say that. It was real. It was real to me." Yelena's eyes stung with tears as she turned to look at Melina. "You are my mother. You were my real mother. The closest thing I ever had to one."

She blinked hard, trying to fight it, but each breath grew shakier until tears silently began to spill over. "The best part of my life was fake... and none of you told me." She scoffed, locking eyes with Melina. "And those agents you chemically subjugated around the globe? That was me and Emiliya."

Emilia didn't say anything. Only fidgeted with her cuticles until they bled. Yelena then turned to look at Natasha. "And you. You got out—and Dreykov made sure no one could escape." She vented, standing up from her seat aggressively.

She was about to storm out when her head started to spin. Her body swayed, eyes unfocused now. Her knees buckled, body folding in on itself as she crumpled to the floor.

Emilia's heart dropped at the sight. She ran to Yelena's side, holding up her head, hoping the impact wasn't too severe. Yelena's eyes fluttered, then rolled back as her head lolled to the side. She was unconscious.

"Yelena—Yelena! Wake up! You're okay. You're okay." Emilia pleaded as her hand hovered uselessly over her sister. She wasn't sure whether to shake her or let her rest.

Everyone surrounded the two on the floor, panic crossing all of their faces. Alexei grabbed Yelena hurriedly and carried her to the spare bedroom, gently putting her to bed. "What's—what's wrong with her...?" Natasha muttered to Melina as she ran a diagnostic.

"I—I don't know... It's not just something I can see on a scan. Whatever's happening... it's deeper. Neurological, maybe chemical. Bigger than anything my equipment here can pick up." She paused, clearly unsettled.

"It's not an injury I can treat. This is beyond what I'm equipped to handle. She needs a hospital. She's in a stable coma for now, but—I'm not sure how long that's going to last until..." She trailed off, not wanting to burden Natasha and Emilia with what could happen.

She may not be their real mother, but the maternal instincts never go away. The thought of Yelena dying weighed heavy on Melina. The little girl she so-called raised. It never felt more real than in that moment.

Emilia's breath hitched, eyes watering. She knelt down by Yelena, gently holding her hand. "Melina, could you give us a second?" Natasha spoke up.

Melina didn't move. Eyes locked onto the unconscious Yelena lying on the bed. "Melina?" Natasha called once more. No answer. "Mom?" She tried again, more quietly this time.

Melina slowly turned her head, facing Natasha with glistening eyes. "Let me know when you're done." She said neutrally, standing up to leave the room. She slowly closed the door behind her.

Natasha sighed before speaking up once more. "Emilia, you know what we have to do—" "No. No, Natasha. I—we can't." Emilia protested.

"She needs a doctor, Em. A real one. With the right equipment. And you know we can't take her to a hospital. There's only one other option—" "There has to be another way." Emilia reasoned.

"Wake up, Emilia! This is the only choice." Natasha grew impatient. A lump grew in Emilia's throat, a moment of silence passing by. "Take her. Go without me." She tried compromising.

"Are you serious?" Natasha scoffed. "Nat—I can't go back there! I don't know what I'd do if I saw him again and... and he looked at me the way he did last time. I can't face that look again. Not from him." Emilia cried.

Natasha took a moment to try and figure out how to sugarcoat what she was about to say. "Mel. I get it. I get how you're feeling right now. But you need to pull yourself together. Yelena could die." She hissed.

"Do you really want Yelena to wake up and not have you by her side? Or, god forbid, something were to happen... you'd never forgive yourself for not being there. And why? Because of a guy." Natasha snarled, walking closer to Emilia.

"This isn't about you. This is about our little sister." She said more gently this time.

So much for sugarcoating...

Emilia's expression froze, processing everything Natasha just dumped on her. "You're right... I'm sorry—you're right. Make your calls." She surrendered with a deep breath. "I won't let them take you in again. Don't worry," Natasha reassured.

Highly doubt it.

Emilia forced a smile as she watched Natasha leave the room to call Bruce and Tony.

Those twenty minutes felt like hours as Emilia waited for her to return. Not letting Yelena out of her sight for a second.

Natasha walked back inside, face unreadable. Emilia furrowed her eyebrows in suspense. "Well?" She asked. "Bruce is getting the med lab ready for her as we speak." Natasha exhaled in relief.

"Thank god." Emilia muttered, looking back at Yelena. "Everything's gonna be okay, Mel. She's gonna be okay. And so are you." Natasha said softly, holding onto Yelena's other hand.

Everything's gonna be okay.

Chapter 18: A Hundred Lifetimes

The wind blew cold as Emilia stood in front of the compound once more.

We meet again...

She was getting vertigo just from the sight of the Avengers logo hanging on the side of the building. Picturing the looks on everyone's faces was enough to make her stomach hurl.

She'd been gone for about thirty hours, but it had felt much longer than that.

Natasha's words ran through her head. This isn't about you. Her only worry right now should be Yelena.

She quickly turned around and helped Alexei carry inside the stretcher that Yelena lay on. Her body is still unconscious. Her eyes never left Yelena's rosy cheeks and the scars that followed.

She wrapped her mind so solely on Yelena that she didn't even bat an eye at the couple of familiar faces she saw as they walked through the hallways of the compound.

Reaching the medical lab, Bruce hurried the family inside to immediately begin tests on Yelena. He was going to do whatever he could to save her even though he had never even met her—never even known about her existence up until twelve hours ago when the family flew out from Saint Petersburg.

It was shocking to Bruce how fast they arrived back in New York, considering a flight from there to New York is at least fifteen hours long. Whatever happened to Yelena must've been really urgent if they managed to cut the flight by three entire hours.

"Prep her. I'm going to run some tests." Bruce commanded Natasha, pointing at the medical bed in front of her. Alexei closed the door behind them while Melina examined Bruce's lab—making sure it's suitable and capable for Yelena.

Bruce was about to take her blood when Alexei grabbed his wrist, still sceptical of him. "I need her blood to run tests..." Bruce reasoned. Alexei looked at Melina for confirmation. He let Bruce go once he saw Melina's nod of approval. "Be careful." He stated, accent thick.

"Aaron, could you get in here, please? I need you to test a patient's blood." Bruce said through an earpiece. Emilia's eyes left Yelena's for the first time since they entered the building, landing on Bruce. "Who the fuck is Aaron?" She asked accusingly, not wanting a stranger around Yelena.

"Calm down—he's my new assistant." Bruce explained. Emilia narrowed her eyes at him, still suspicious. "If Emiliya doesn't trust him, neither do I. I trust her gut." Melina spoke sharply.

Something twisted in Emilia's gut at Melina's words. Only it wasn't a negative feeling. The first time in the past twelve hours. "He's solid, Mel. I've met him before." Natasha spoke up.

"Fine." Emilia sighed with a shrug. "You guys should probably wait outside—please. It's going to take much longer if you question everything I do. No offence..." Bruce instructed.

Melina took a sharp breath before talking. "No, no—I'm not leaving my ba—I'm not leaving Yelena." She argued. Bruce sighed in defeat. "Fine. Everyone but the mother has to go. Now—please."

Emilia winced as Natasha grabbed her arm, pulling her and Alexei out of the room. She closed the door behind them, turning to look at Emilia. "No—Nat! I have to go back in there! She needs me—I need to be there!" Emilia pleaded, trying to reach for the door as Natasha pushed her away. Alexei marched off, disappearing into the hallways.

"You'd do more harm than good by being in there, Mel. You know that. Come on, sit. I'll bring you coffee." Natasha offered, helping Emilia to the seat with a clear view of Yelena. "I hate coffee." Melina mumbled.

"Too bad. You need it." Natasha scoffed and walked away with determination. Emilia was left alone with her thoughts in those familiar hallways.

She started dissociating when someone walked up to her, taking a seat. Emilia took one glance at the figure sitting beside her and quickly turned back to the lab. "If you're gonna arrest me, arrest me." She stated.

"I'm not going to arrest you, Emilia." Tony responded. Emilia furrowed her eyebrows, looking at him this time. "Why not?" "Come on.. I might be a dick, but I'm not a monster." Tony huffed.

"I hope your sister's okay." He added. Emilia dropped her head in thought. "Thanks, Tony." She mumbled. Tony leaned back, getting comfortable in his seat. "Don't thank me. Thank Barnes." He stated.

Emilia's face went pale. "What?" She spat. "We had an emergency meeting when you and Romanoff disappeared. I was ready to put a bounty on your head." He joked.

"Barnes was the only person in the room who defended your honour, so to speak. He told everyone that you were only looking for your sister. Even after everything you pulled, he still spoke up for you." Tony scoffed in disbelief.

Emilia's gaze found his, searching for the truth. She couldn't comprehend that Bucky had defended her. Her of all people. "I can't believe Bucky did that..." She mumbled.

"You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve that boy." Tony let out. Emilia fell back in her seat, thinking over his words. He was right. She knew he was right.

"I'm gonna go tend to some Avenger business—let me know if there are any updates with Yelena." He added. Emilia said bye with a nod, dragging her gaze back to Yelena.

A brunette man who looked a little older than Emilia exited the room, his green eyes finding hers. "Emilia, right?" He asked awkwardly. She responded with a slight nod. "I'm Aaron, the assist—" "How is she?" She cut him off, standing from her seat.

 

Aaron cleared his throat before speaking. "Yelena sustained a head injury recently that she must've brushed off... during your argument, the pressure in her skull caused the brain bleed to expand. She has a slow subdural hematoma—a build-up of blood between the brain and the skull that's now causing swelling and pressure." He explained.

Natasha had finally come back with the drinks as soon as he had finished explaining. "What's going on?" She asked, concerned. "Your sister needs surgery." Aaron added on. "Is Bruce even qualified for that?" Emilia asked abruptly.

"He's had training, but he won't be the only one operating. There will be two other qualified surgeons." He explained. Emilia paused, eventually nodding in agreement.

"What are the chances something goes wrong?" Natasha asked Aaron. "It's... unlikely. But possible. I'm sorry, but it's now or never." Emilia and Natasha locked eyes, as though telepathically communicating. "Do it." They said in unison. He nodded eagerly, walking back inside the lab.

Emilia exhaled and flopped back down in her seat. Natasha sat beside her, handing her black coffee.

Emilia looked at the redhead when she noticed that she wasn't speaking. Natasha's eyes were wide open, drenched in fear. Emilia had not noticed up until this moment how much this incident had affected Natasha.

She was always the strong one of the three, never showing her weaknesses. It was a feature that Emilia always looked up to—but now that she's grown up and understands the burden that comes with that, she feels pity for her.

She put her hand on Natasha's shoulder, dragging her attention away from the surgery and onto her. "You can tell me how you feel, Nat... I'm not a kid anymore—and neither is Yelena. You don't have to try and protect us from the bad things all the time." Emilia spoke softly.

Natasha shook her head, eyes getting teary. "No. I always kept this fucked-up family together, and I'm not about to stop." "You were a kid too—whatever happens isn't on you. You don't have to keep this harsh exterior on all the time." Emilia reasoned.

Natasha sighed, looking back at Yelena. "What if she..." The redhead trailed off. "She won't." Emilia answered. Natasha snapped her head back to Emilia, her lips trembling. "You don't know that! I never got to tell her that it was real—that I love her... She could die thinking all she was to me was a mission.." She cried softly.

Emilia pulled her into a tight squeeze, not wanting to let go. "She will be okay." She reassured. Natasha hugged her back, her tears seeping into Emilia's combat uniform.

This was one of those fleeting moments only sisters know—tucked quietly between the storms. Rare as stars at dawn, but when they appear, the noise fades, and even the heaviest burdens feel light enough to carry.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Hours had passed. Natasha was fast asleep. Emilia was lying on the redhead's shoulder, trying to fall asleep too. Truth was, she only managed to get in a couple hours of sleep since her birthday. She hasn't caught a break since.

She raised her gaze when she felt a pair of eyes on her. She saw a dark figure watching her from afar, immediately dispersing when caught. Emilia quickly got up, trying not to wake Natasha.

She followed the figure into the dimly lit hallway, her heart skipping a beat when she realised who it was.

"Bucky?" She called out, body frozen. He halted abruptly, facing straight ahead. He sighed, slowly turning around. Emilia's breath hitched at the sight of his face.

She slowly made her way to him, thinking of what to say with every step. His face was blank, emotions unreadable. She cleared her throat, locking eyes with Bucky.

"Tony told me—what you did... Thank you." She said softly. Bucky exhaled sharply, looking her in the eyes. "I just spoke the truth, Emilia." He spat. "Don't make any more of it than it is." He scoffed, turning back around and storming away.

Those words landed like a cold knife to the heart. She held onto that small beacon of hope that he might have forgiven her. She now realised she was pathetic for thinking so.

She briskly walked back to Natasha, crumbling in her seat. She tried hard to fight back the tears that were begging to be let out. She tried to take her mind anywhere else to stop thinking about him.

As she sat there, Aaron walked out of the laboratory. He was supposed to go on his break, but seeing Emilia so hurt, he couldn't just walk away.

He took a seat next to her, nudging her slightly. "You okay?" He asked gently. "No?" Emilia scoffed, faking a laugh. He smiled, knowing that was a dumb question. "Tell me about Yelena." He stated.

Emilia puzzled her brows at him, unsure of what he wanted to know. "Tell me about her. What's her favourite food?" He tried again. Emilia looked at the floor to think, grinning when she remembered.

"Mac and cheese." She laughed lightly, making him smile. "And you?" He asked. "I adore anything with shrimps, honestly." She half smiled. He nodded with a grin.

"What about her favourite animal?" He added. "She adores dogs. Always wanted one. Our mom never let us have one, though." She sniffed, fidgeting with her hands.

"How about you? You always wanted a dog too?" He asked curiously. "I'm more of a cat person." She responded. That phrase seemed to make something click in Aaron's head. "Wait right here," he commanded, running off down the hallway.

Emilia shrugged, looking back at Natasha sleeping beside her, running her hand down her hair.

A few minutes passed by when Aaron came back, arms behind his back. Emilia's shoulders got tense. She was unsure if he was holding something dangerous or not. She was about to speak up when he brought his hands forward, revealing Alpine.

Emilia's gaze softened, immediately grabbing the cat from his hands. She kissed her all around, wrapping her in her arms. Aaron only watched with a victorious smile, glad he could help bring her mood up.

"Thank you." She mumbled, not locking eyes. "Anytime, Shrimpy." He teased. "Shrimpy?" She looked up at him in confusion. He only shrugged, walking back into the laboratory.

Emilia scoffed, turning her attention to the cat now asleep in her arms. It seemed as though everyone around her aura could fall asleep but her.

Notes:

Just got a j*b.. I can't make unemployment jokes anymore :/

Chapter 19: Changed

Notes:

This chapter's format is a little different, but it's deep, I'll tell you that much. Hit a little close to home.

The surgery was successful. It was a five-hour-long operation. The only problem was, Yelena was still in the coma. It was now only a matter of time until she woke up. It was safe to say the family was not taking it well.

It had now been a few hours since the surgery ended. Alexei was still nowhere to be seen since the operation began; Natasha spent those hours in the gym; Emilia finally decided to go eat something, while Melina never left Yelena's side.

Emilia got really worried for her physical state, so she piled some food on a plate and carried it back to the lab.

As she entered the room, she analysed the state that Melina was in. Her hair was a mess, bags were hanging from under her eyes, and her eyes were so red it was as though she hadn’t slept since they left Saint Petersburg. Which was true.

She was gently holding onto Yelena's hand, humming a lullaby that seemed oddly familiar to Emilia. "What's that song?" She asked. Melina took a long pause before responding. "It's the lullaby I used to sing to put her to bed. She was so scared after Alexei told her this story about monsters, she couldn't sleep." Melin huffed.

"I would tell her every night, Don't worry. I'd never let the monsters get you." Melina's gaze found Emilia's, filled with tears. "I let the monsters get her, Emiliya. I let them get all three of you. And look at what happened. It's all my fault." She cried.

Emilia put the plate of food down, sitting by Melina's side. "I didn't know you cared this much.." Emilia confessed. "Neither did I. I guess seeing her fall like that... it really showed me how bad I screwed up. How much my delusions affected you girls. How could you ever forgive me?" She said softly.

Emilia wavered in thought, unsure of what to say. "This is a good start." She admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. Melina didn't show it, but that reassurance gave her the motivation she needed to try and win back their hearts.

"You should eat." Emilia stated. "I'm not hungry." Melina bluffed. "Yes, you are. Eat." Emilia insisted. Melina sighed in defeat, grabbing the plate of food. She looked up at the girl in front of her. The girl that was once her girl.

"How did you keep your heart?" Melina asked softly. Emilia forced a smile, tugging at a piece of fabric sticking out from her clothes. "A wise woman once said, ‘Pain only makes you stronger’." Emilia shrugged.

Melina smiled lightly at the remembrance of Natasha. Emilia cleared her throat before speaking again. "Have you seen Alexei? He's nowhere to be seen." "Зная твоего отца, он, наверняка где-то щас пьет. (Knowing your father, he's probably out drinking.)" Melina scoffed, taking a bite of her food.

Great. What are the chances I find him in a random pub in New York?

Emilia sighed, slowly making her way out of the room. "Call me if she wakes up, okay? Я попытаюсь найти Наташу. (I'll go try to find Natasha.)" She asked. Melina nodded, mouth full of food.

She quickly made her way downstairs to the gym, knowing that's where her sister would be. She entered the gym, getting greeted by the sound of grunts and groans. She made her way to Natasha, who was right by the entrance.

She was drenched in sweat and water. Her eyes widened when she saw Emilia. "Mel—what are you doing here?" She asked worriedly. Emilia narrowed her eyes at the redhead. "I was just checking up—why are you so tense? What's going on?"

Before Natasha had the chance to answer, the pair heard a grunt echo through the room, followed by the rattle of a punching bag's chain. Emilia exhaled sharply, already knowing who's at the other side of the gym.

"He's here, isn't he?" She asked defeated. "He never leaves... he's been punching that bag for hours. Before I even got here." Natasha whispered. "I don't think he's doing so good."

Emilia dropped her head in guilt. "I need to apologise to everyone." She spoke up. "What? Are you sure that's a good idea?" Natasha asked with concern. "Yes. I betrayed everyone in this building. Time to make amends. I don't want Yelena to wake up and be immediately cast aside as the sister of the traitor." Emilia explained.

"I'm not just doing this for my own self-consciousness. I need to think about her too." She nodded. Natasha understood, patting her on the shoulder. "I'll call a meeting."

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The hallway outside the conference room was quiet. Too quiet. Emilia stood still, heart hammering against her ribs, clutching the folded paper in her hand like it could protect her. It was stupid, really. An apology wasn't something you handed out like a note in class—but it felt safer than just her voice.

She took a breath.

Then another.

She opened the door.

The room was filled with an awkward mix of silence and tension. The kind that hangs heavy in the air before a storm. Natasha sat in the corner, watching silently. Clint sat near the end of the table, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Steve leaned back, jaw tight. Sam looked up briefly before going back to his tablet. Wanda didn't even look. And Bucky... Bucky stood near the window, facing away, his reflection a cracked silhouette in the glass.

"Thanks for coming," Emilia started, voice soft but echoing a little too loudly. No one responded.

"I—" her throat closed up. She swallowed. "I need to say something. To all of you." Still nothing. Just the hum of tech and the weight of their disappointment.

"I lied to you. I betrayed your trust. I was sent here with one mission: to bring the Winter Soldier back to Hydra. And I almost did it." She took a step forward, barely able to hold eye contact with any of them. "But I couldn't. I didn't."

Wanda's eyes flickered up, unreadable. Sam's jaw tightened.

"I know what I did. I know it's not just the mission that hurt you—it's that I pretended. I smiled, I laughed, I acted like I belonged. And maybe a part of me really wanted to."

She dared a glance at Bucky. He didn't move.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," she continued, her voice trembling now. "I'm asking for a chance. Just one. Let me prove I'm not that person anymore."

Silence again.

Sam closed his tablet slowly and finally looked at her. "You know how many people would've died if you'd succeeded?" "I know," she whispered.

Steve leaned forward slightly. "You could've gotten him killed." "I know," she said again, this time barely audible. Her fingers gripped the paper tighter. Natasha sighed, knowing it's not her place to say anything.

"You expect us to believe that suddenly your heart grew three sizes?" Wanda's voice was cold. "That you just changed?" "No," Emilia said. "But something did."

She looked at them—all of them. "You can hate me. I deserve that. But I'm not here to run. I'm here because I want to make it right. However long that takes."

Bucky finally turned. His eyes locked with hers. Cold. Wounded. Betrayed.

But he didn't say a word.

"Okay," Steve said, rising to his feet. "You said what you needed to say." He didn't wait for a reply. He just walked out.

The others followed one by one—Sam with a sigh, Clint offering only a nod, Wanda with a glare that burned like ice. Natasha patted her on the shoulder, signalling she'd meet her outside. Bucky was the last to leave. He stood there for one more moment, eyes locked on Emilia's like he wanted to say something—anything—but couldn't find the words.

He walked out in silence.

The door clicked shut.

And Emilia was alone again.

But she wasn't giving up. She had expected this plan to fail. It was time for plan B. If words weren't enough, she'd make them feel her apology. Not through guilt. Through work.

———

The hallway lights flickered on as Emilia stepped into the heart of the compound—hood up, eyes down, hands stuffed into her sleeves. She finally changed out of her combat uniform.

Nobody had asked her to stay.

But nobody had made her leave either.

That counted for something... didn't it?

If words weren't enough, she'd make them feel her apology. Not through guilt. Through work.

The first thing she did was fix the coffee machine.

It had been glitching for weeks. Steve used to kick it until it worked. Nat just gave it the cold stare of death and settled for tea. But Emilia opened it up with careful fingers, cleaned the wiring, replaced the broken fuse with one from an old Stark gadget she found in storage.

The next time Sam pressed the button, it didn't sputter. It purred.

He blinked, surprised, then glanced around. "Who touched this thing?" From around the corner, Emilia didn't answer. She just kept walking.

———

Later that day, she scrubbed blood off one of the training mats. It wasn't hers, but it felt like it should've been. Her hands burned from the disinfectant, but she didn't stop. When Clint walked in and saw her crouched over the floor, he stared.

"You don't have to do that."

"I know," she said without looking up.

He didn't argue.

He didn't thank her, either.

But he didn't stop her.

———

By the evening, she was in the armoury. She organised the gear by functionality instead of type—something she'd always done back in the Red Room. Muscle memory took over. Wanda watched her for a while from the shadows, arms crossed, unreadable as always.

Emilia caught her eye briefly, offered a half-smile, and kept working.

Wanda didn't return the smile.

But she didn't walk away either.

———

Dinner came, and Emilia didn't join the table.

Instead, she slipped into the kitchen when the others were in the living room arguing about what movie to watch.

She cooked. Simple things. Comfort things. Not because she thought it would change anything—but because it reminded her of a time when they weren't soldiers.

A time when she could still pretend they were family.

When the Avengers returned to the kitchen, there were warm plates waiting. Emilia was gone. Only a note remained:

"You don't have to eat it. Just thought you might like something warm. –E"

Natasha smiled at the food, thinking about how hard she was trying.

Wanda recognised the smell before anyone else. Her throat tightened, but she said nothing.

Bucky stared at the plate longer than he needed to before silently picking up a fork.

———

Later that night, Emilia sat in Bruce's laboratory, watching over Yelena. Melina had finally fallen asleep, taking the break she desperately needed.

Emilia decided to turn on the news to see what was going on outside. Her heart dropped when the first thing she saw was 'Madman in red and white costume single-handedly destroys beloved bar.'

Emilia watched carefully as they showed Alexei throwing around furniture and drinks. She quickly wrote down the address of the bar and ran out of the room. Out of the compound. Out in the streets.

She didn't look back for a second. She just kept running. Breath heavy. Thighs burning.

She finally made it to the bar, busting the door open. She felt a slight relief when she saw that he was still throwing things. That meant the police didn't get here yet.

"Give me another drink, you сукин сын! (son of a bitch!)" He yelled out at the bartender ducking behind the counter. "Get out of my bar!" He yelled back.

"Alexei, stop it!" Emilia yelled out, taking a step closer. Alexei stumbled back when he saw Emilia by the door. "No—not until I get my drink!" He cried out, slurring his words.

"What the fuck are you doing, Alexei? Do you want to go back to jail?!" Emilia scolded, taking another step closer. Alexei didn't answer, clenching his jaw.

"Get a grip, man! You are acting like a child—" "Hey, you can't talk to me that way!" He yelled back. "You don't have a say right now, you ignorant bastard! Melina hasn't left Yelena's side since we got here—Natasha has been killing herself in the gym, and what am I doing? I'm babysitting the person who's supposed to be my father!" She spat.

Alexei put down the chair he had in his grip, shoulders slightly relaxing. Emilia exhaled, pointing at the door. "Out. Now." She commanded. Alexei listened, stomping out of the bar.

She dragged them out to a hidden alley, clearing her throat before speaking. "Now can you tell me what’s going on? You just broke at least three laws over a drink!" Emilia scoffed.

Alexei huffed, kicking over a box on the ground. "When a man asks for a drink, you give him a drink! It's basic манеры! (manners!)" Emilia clenched her jaw, crossing her arms. "You're being a child, Alexei."

"Stop—stop it!" He cried out. "You're the child! You. You, Natasha—Yelena... you were children. What the fuck was I thinking.." He muttered, sitting down on the ground.

Emilia clicked her tongue, sitting down beside him. "That day.. they took all three of you..." His voice cracked, more soft this time. "Natasha said—she's only six. You know what I said? You—" "You were even younger." Emilia huffed.

"You remember that?" He asked with guilt. "I thought about it every day for years." She confessed. Alexei punched the floor below him, leaving a crack in the pavement. "I failed as a soldier. I failed as a husband. I failed as a father." He mumbled.

"We've all made mistakes in the past." She started. "It's what you do now that counts." She said softly, fighting back a yawn. Alexei noticed.

"When was the last time you slept?" He asked with concern. "Don't worry about it." She smiled. "I'm always going to worry about you, kid. Come on. Let’s get you to bed." He whispered.

———

Emilia was stumbling by the time they got back to the compound, the sleep deprivation finally hitting her. Alexei picked her up in his arms, holding her tight.

He carried her all the way to her room, carefully tucking her into bed. "You can rest now." He said softly, brushing her hair with his hand.

He stepped back, walking towards the door. "Спасибо, Папа... (Thanks, Dad...)" Emilia mumbled, half-asleep. Alexei's hand hovered over the door handle, knowing that leaving the room would break the moment. End it. It would only be a fleeting memory.

He wanted to stay in that moment forever. Those words would never leave him for the rest of his life.

But eventually, all moments must come to an end.

Chapter 20: A New Family

Notes:

Guess who's back!!! Sorry guys, writers block hit BAD

Superman and Fantastic Four were SO GOOD. Life hasn't been this good since thunderbolts.

"Natasha! Wake up!" Bruce called out, shaking her shoulder. Natasha sprang awake, jumping out of the chair. "What—what happened?" She asked worriedly, looking around the laboratory for any sort of threat.

"Yelena—she's waking up." Melina exclaimed, towering over Yelena. Natasha sprinted across the room, standing right by Yelena's side.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Blinking repeatedly to get rid of the constant blur.

"Oh my god, Yelena.." Natasha muttered, a smile growing on her face. She grabbed her hand firmly, not letting go. Melina was at a loss for words. No words could describe what she was feeling.

Yelena furrowed her eyebrows once she realised what she was looking at. "Who died?" She laughed roughly. Natasha scoffed, a tear falling down her cheek. "You did. For a second there."

Yelena wondered in thought for a moment, trying to remember how she ended up here. "What's the last thing you remember?" Melina asked hopefully, praying she doesn't remember the conversation they held last.

"Um... I vaguely remember being at your house... and that's about it." She responded unsurely. Natasha and Melina both exhaled, both equally relieved to hear that. "Now can you all please get off me?" She added on.

The two immediately backed away, giving Yelena space to sit up. "Be careful..." Natasha mumbled under her nose.

"Where's Mel?" Yelena asked as she'd made herself comfortable. "She's sleeping properly for the first time in days. I don't want to wake her." Natasha explained. Yelena nodded in understanding, a little bummed she doesn't get to see her sister yet.

"I could take you to her room, if you want?" Natasha suggested. Melina's eyes shot up at the redhead. "Are you insane? She just woke up from a surgery!" She cried out.

"I feel great—I think it should be okay, really." Yelena reassured. "Not until I get a doctor's clearance." Melina shook her head in disagreement.

All three turned their heads to Bruce, who was in the corner of the room, munching on crisps. He froze when they all stared him down.

He quickly cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his sweater. "If she says she's fine—why not? Just don't overpressure yourself." He answered, deep down unsure about his answer, but also not wanting to be on two widows black lists for disagreeing.

Yelena and Natasha grinned victoriously, turning back to look at Melina. "See, Mom? It'll be fine." Yelena smiled.

Mom. Melina never thought she'd hear any one of them call her Mom again.

"Fine. Then you head straight back and take some more tests. Поняла? (Understood?)" Melina stated firmly. "Yes, yes. Поняла. (Understood.)" Yelena giggled, getting up from the bed.

She tripped lightly as her feet touched the floor, being caught immediately by Natasha. "Take it slow," Nat emphasised. Yelena nodded aggressively, starting to walk more slowly.

"Please return her to me in one piece!" Melina called out as they walked out the door, silence filling the air.

Natasha held Yelena from the side, gripping onto her waist. She was not about to let her pass out again.

They slowly but carefully made their way up to Emilia's room. Yelena tried hard not to giggle as they reached her door. Natasha shushed her before pulling the handle.

The floors cracked as they walked over to her bed. Mocking them. Yelena smiled as she saw Emilia curled under the blankets, her breaths deep and steady, her face finally calm after days of restless sleep. "I don't remember the last time I saw her look so peaceful..." Yelena whispered.

"Neither do I." Natasha admitted. Yelena glanced at Natasha before turning back to Emilia. "How long have you guys been reunited?" She asked softly. "About two weeks," Natasha said regrettingly.

Yelena nodded, thinking about all the moments she must've missed out on. "How much did I miss?" She asked. Natasha bit the insides of her cheeks. "She's got boy trouble." She scoffed.

Yelena's neck snapped to the redhead. "Emiliya? The same girl who puked when a guy confessed to her has boy trouble?" Yelena whisper-shouted, grinning. Natasha smirked with a nod. "Нифига себе... (Holy shit...)" She scoffed.

A grin grew on Natasha's face when an idea crossed her mind. She nudged Yelena's shoulder, bringing her attention onto her. "Hey—I have an idea." Natasha paused. "Remember girls night?"

Yelena's eyes lit up in recollection of the memory. The bed dipped slightly on one side. Then the other. A rustle of blankets.

Emilia stirred, brow twitching as her body registered the shift. Her eyes flutter open. Groggy, confused, she blinked into the light.

"Nat?" she rasped, voice heavy with sleep. "What are you—" "Shhh. Go back to sleep," Natasha mumbled, pulling the covers higher.

But Emilia's breath caught as her eyes adjusted—and she realised who the second presence was.

"...Yelena?"

The younger sister turned her head, blinking slowly, still pale and stitched up—but awake. Alive. Present.

A sleepy smirk tugged at Emilia's lips. "Took you long enough to wake up." Her throat closed. No words came. Just a trembling breath.

Then, quietly, Yelena reached out and poked her forehead. "Quit crying. You're gonna get snot in my hair."

Emilia let out a watery laugh—somewhere between a sob and a giggle—and wrapped her arms around both of them, burying her face into their shoulders.

For the first time in years, they were together. In one bed. Safe.

Just for a moment, the world outside didn't exist.

They lay like that for half an hour, wanting to hold onto that moment for as long as possible, when Yelena broke the silence. "I hear you got boy trouble?" She grinned, lifting her head.

Emiliya jumped, sitting up straight. "I do not have boy trouble!" She cried out, looking back and forth at her sisters, who both sat up too. "I have trouble with a boy—not boy trouble!" She added on.

"That's the same thing." Yelena stared blankly. Emilia opened her mouth but couldn't get a word out. "Tell me about him, Mel! I want to know what guy managed to bring my man-hater sister out of her shell." Yelena teased, earning a smirk from Natasha.

"It's—it's not like that." Emilia answered. Yelena huffed, crossing her arms. "At least give me a name." "Fine—his name is Bucky." She shrugged.

Yelena cringed, scrunching her nose. "Please don't tell me you're in love with a guy called 'Bucky'." Emilia rolled her eyes, hitting Yelena's shoulder. "Сучка. (Bitch.) His actual name is James, James Barnes."

Yelena's mouth fell agape, her body freezing up. "Barnes, as in—as in...?" Yelena mumbled, not wanting to finish the sentence. Emilia's smile dropped, realising that Yelena knows him.

She told her. The very first time she had to wipe his memories—she told Yelena about it. They were separated shortly after.

"Oh my god... I'm the reason you have trouble with him—aren't I?" Yelena asked in fear. Natasha and Emilia locked eyes, unsure of what to say. "Why—why would you say that?" Emilia asked, baffled.

Yelena started fidgeting with her coarse hands, dreading taking that trip down memory lane.

"They... they told me about your mission. They—" Yelena paused, not wanting to continue. The Red Room had told her things no sister wants to hear. That Emilia had abandoned her. That she had found a new family. A better family. That she's in love.

A part of her knew they were lies, but sitting here—now... what if it was true?

"Hey—it doesn't matter anymore, right? You're okay. You're safe now." Natasha spoke up, putting a hand on her shoulder. Yelena nodded in agreement.

Emilia clicked her tongue, looking up at the ceiling. "In any case—it's not on you. It wasn't just the mission that messed things up. I lied to him... about everything." She said softly.

"The lies couldn't have been that bad..." Yelena responded. Emilia's gaze found hers, knitting her eyebrows. "I have to tell you guys something."

Natasha tilted her head in confusion, unaware that Emilia was keeping something from her. "Go on...?" Emilia sighed, mentally preparing herself. "Do you guys remember the REM? They started working on it before Natasha escaped."

"What are you saying?" Natasha mumbled. Emilia turned to look at Yelena, "Do you remember the rumours that the thirteenth test worked?"

"Sure, but—we never found out on who... Oh." Yelena paused. Natasha looked at Yelena's expression, now understanding what Emilia meant.

"It wasn't a rumour. It worked. On me..." She said shyly. Both Natasha's and Yelena's mouths flew open. "So wait—you have, like, telepathy or something?" Yelena asked curiously.

"Something like that." Emilia bluffed, scratching the back of her neck. "Cool..." Yelena muttered with a grin. "Is it safe? Are you okay?" Natasha asked worriedly.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. The experiments weren't... pleasant, but it's fine now. It doesn't hurt anymore." Emilia reassured. Natasha smiled at her with pity, furrowing her eyebrows. "Who else knows?"

"Uhm... only Bucky. He probably told Steve, though." Emilia answered. Natasha's gaze fell at the mention of Steve, trying to brush it off. "Good. Let's keep it that way," the redhead added.

"Don't you think I should tell Tony? I'm living under his roof—it's only fair." Emilia stated. "Do you know what's going to happen to you if he finds out? You're going to be experimented on, Em." Natasha snapped.

Emilia dropped her head, knowing she was right. She wanted to do the right thing. She really did. After lying to everyone for so long, it felt like the only right option. But her sister was right. Right?

"Can you demonstrate it on me?" Yelena asked excitedly. "I—no. No, I can't. Every time I used them, they hurt people. It's not a blessing, it's a curse." Emilia's throat tightened up.

Yelena's smile faded, followed by a deafening silence. Natasha smiled softly, looking at the two. "Let's go put some food in both of you."

Emilia's eyes lit up at the mention of food. She quickly grabbed her sisters' hands and dragged them out of the room.

As they made their way to the kitchen, the smell of pancakes took over. The three of them were practically drooling. They entered the kitchen and noticed Tony at the stove. "Ah finally, you're all awake." He teased.

Emilia rolled her eyes, turning to Yelena. "That's Tony. I'd wait at least a week to get to know him." She joked. "You know, I can hear you, right?" Tony cocked his head at Emilia. "I wasn't whispering." She smirked, taking a seat at the table.

"You know—you shouldn't be mean to the guy that makes your food. Last time I did that I got food poisoning." Natasha shrugged, sitting beside her and Yelena. "Yeah—listen to Romanoff." Tony groaned.

"How about you sit down and meet Yelena, and I finish up with the pancakes?" Emilia offered. "Gladly." He responded, walking over to the table.

Emilia approached the stove, getting straight to work. Tony took her place, quickly analysing Yelena. "Yelena Belova. Nice to officially meet you. You were not much of a talker when you were in a coma." He stated.

Yelena's lip curled, turning to look at Natasha. "Oh—I get it. Он козел. (He's an asshole.)" She huffed. "God—why do you all keep saying that? I asked Friday what it means—you're not clever." He scoffed, leaning back in his seat.

Natasha and Yelena grinned, turning back to look at Emilia's progress. Only no progress was being made. She was frozen. Natasha quickly turned to look at whatever she was staring at, only to see the one person she was praying wouldn't show up.

Bucky had decided to make an appearance, sitting at the table beside them with a book. "Oh god..." Natasha mumbled, drowning in her seat. "What are you whining about now?" Tony asked condescendingly.

"We need a plan." She stated. "Don't you think you've made enough plans already?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "We need to get Bucky and Emilia to patch things up." She commanded.

Yelena's gaze shifted to the only other person in the room. "That's Bucky?" She whispered but didn't get a response. "Natasha, this is stupid. They're grown adults; let them figure it out themselves." Tony reasoned, throwing a peanut in his mouth.

"You must not know Emiliya." Yelena chuckled. Natasha nodded in agreement. "That's true. She once cried for a week straight when her friend dumped her, so we had to force them in a room together until they worked it out and made up."

"She needs a push." Yelena added. "She's a coward, and he's stubborn. You guys are fucked." Tony laughed. "Not if you help us, Stark." Natasha hissed. "And how would I do that? Shove them in a room together and lock the door behind them? Real mature."

"Actually—that gives me an idea." Yelena started, getting Tony and Natasha's attention. "Why don't we lure them in the same elevator—and then manually turn it off and label it a 'technical glitch'?" She shrugged.

"Wait—how would we pull that off? Can we even do that?" Natasha asked, unsure. "We could try and hack into the database. Maybe?" Yelena answered, now also unsure. "No need to hack anything—I can make it happen with the snap of my fingers. I own the building." Tony bragged.

Natasha raised a curious brow at Tony. "I thought this was stupid, Stark. Why the change of heart?" She laughed. "That was before I heard the plan. It sounds fun, and I want part in it. No backsies." He said childishly.

Yelena rolled her eyes, turning back to Natasha. "As I was saying... that could work. It could get them talking." She shrugged. Natasha nodded eagerly, a smile growing on her face.

Tony's focus shifted to Emilia, who was completely butchering his pancake dough. He quickly sat up, running over to help. Or at least that's what he calls 'control.'

Yelena's gaze found Bucky's. His shoulders immediately tensed, turning away. But she didn't. She kept watching him. Analysing.

It's not true. She wouldn't.

"Nat... she wasn't gonna go through with the mission. Was she?" She asked blatantly. Natasha choked on air, eyes dropping to the table. "What are you talking about?"

"I know—it's not fair that I want to know. I know she had no choice. But I need to know. Was she going to turn him in?" Yelena asked with more urgency.

Natasha bit her tongue, leaning back in her seat. "She was at some point. Up until the last day. Something happened between them, and she confessed." She said softly.

Yelena nodded gently, eyes glued to Bucky. She was fighting back tears with all she had. Natasha shifted from her stool, sitting beside Yelena. The chair still warm from when Tony sat on it. "She never stopped trying to find you. Even when it was hopeless, she kept trying." She tried reassuring.

Yelena's eyes were blank. Hiding any piece of emotion. Natasha's eyes drifted to the door at the whiff of someone's arrival. His blonde hair was unmistakable.

It was Steve.

Her Steve.

Natasha has tried so hard not to think about him the past few days, her heart started to ache. She watched him as he made his way to Bucky. Big grin on his face.

What is he smiling about?

They locked eyes for a split second. A very small piece of her died when his smile disappeared. As though with disappointment. He quickly dragged his stare over to Bucky, a forced smile now hiding his face.

Yelena watched as the scene unfolded, sensing tension radiating off of them. "What's up with you and Captain Spangles?" She asked, confused.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Tony piped into the conversation again, taking a seat in front of Natasha. "They've been smashing booties for months. It's a secret though, so don't tell anyone." Tony teased, earning a death glare from Natasha.

"I'm sorry—what?" Yelena spat. "It's not like that—" Natasha cleared her throat. "We haven't talked since... it doesn't matter. Just don't tell Emilia anything is wrong, okay? She thinks it's her fault." She stated coldly.

"Isn't it, though?" Tony asked nonchalantly. "No. It's not." Natasha snarled, leaning forward in her chair. Tony gulped, leaning backwards.

"Not a word to Emilia. She's got enough to worry about." Natasha stated firmly. Yelena and Tony nodded in understanding.

Yelena felt a little wounded by the fact that Natasha wasn't talking to her about anything that was going on in her life, but she knew she had to give it longer than a day. She must not trust her yet.

And Yelena couldn’t blame her for that.

She wouldn't trust her either.

Chapter 21: Pretend

Notes:

Hehe y’all are either gonna hate me or love me for this chapter ;)))

Emilia huffed angrily as she strolled through the quiet hallways. "Why am I being sent to the lab again?" She asked Natasha through an earbud. "There's a package I need you to take for me." The redhead answered.

Emilia rolled her eyes at her sister’s indolence, walking over to the elevator. She pressed the button eagerly, wanting to get it over with. She started braiding her hair impatiently as she waited for the elevator.

Damn you, Stark. Got this big-ass place and can't afford a faster elevator?

She sighed in relief when the bell rang as it arrived on her floor. Her smile quickly faded when she saw Bucky standing inside, hands in his pockets. His lip snarled when his gaze found hers, backing away to the corner of the elevator.

Emilia swallowed the lump in her throat, sighing heavily as she stepped foot into the elevator. She quickly turned to face the door, not wanting to make the moment more awkward than it already was.

Every second felt like an eternity for the two. Everlasting.

A sudden thud suddenly came from below, shaking the elevator aggressively. Emilia lost her balance for a moment, nearly falling. Bucky instinctively reached out, needing to keep her safe, but quickly retracted his hands when she caught her footing.

"What the fuck?" Emilia spat, looking around the place. Bucky analysed the place, noticing no damage done.

The speakers suddenly piped up, creaking as though they'd never been used before. "Hey guys—sorry for the inconvenience. There seems to be some technical glitch in the system, and... I can't fix it. So sit tight, have fun—this might take a while." Tony explained.

"What do you mean you can't fix it?" Bucky asked, annoyed. "Sorry, RoboCop. You're just going to have to wait this one out." Tony snickered, turning off the speaker.

Silence took over the elevator. No one even dared to breathe.

Emilia gathered if they'd be there for a while, she might as well get comfortable. She plopped down on the floor, back to the wall.

Bucky didn't flinch. He just stood motionless, arms still in his pockets.

This is gonna suck.

———

Forty-five minutes later

———

Bucky gave in, eventually sitting down too. Still, not a word was spoken.

Emilia hit her head against the wall softly, thinking over what she should say to him. Now was the perfect chance for them to talk things out.

She had forty minutes to think of what to say, and yet... she came up empty.

Just wing it, Emiliya. Don't overthink it.

She took a deep breath, clicking her tongue. "For the record..." she started, eyes on the floor. "I didn't mean to make you forget so much. Forget your family."

"And yet. You did." He said quietly, his gaze locked on the wall. "I—I didn't know how to use my powers... I was just doing what I was told. Getting to know you." Her voice was soft.

"That's just supposed to make it better?" He asked abruptly. "No—I... You of all people know what it's like to be manipulated by them." "My mind was constantly wiped, Emilia. I didn't know right from wrong. You did. We are not the same." He snarled.

"Seeing you in your memories wasn't just a task for me. You became a friend. The only one I've had in a while. I've known you way longer than you've known me. I got to know everything about you at the cost of you forgetting all of it. I didn't know that in the start... I was just happy to be able to talk to someone again. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, I guess it's your word against mine." He scoffed. Emilia clenched her jaw, growing impatient. "Your favourite colour is yellow. You have a little sister, Rebecca. Her hair's brown like yours. You always fix crooked picture frames when passing by. Always order the same drink." She said without a stutter. Bucky's eyes slowly found hers.

"You would hum Frank Sinatra's music when buttoning your shirt, only stopping when I walked in the room. You danced with a girl under the streetlights after a movie once. Never kissed her. You always adjusted your tie twice before walking into a room." She looked at her hands.

"You flinched at the sound of fireworks. You never smiled at yourself in the mirror. Not unless Steve was beside you." Her voice cracked, now out of breath. "I wish I could give those memories back to you. I wish nothing more."

She looked up at him, eyes teary. His eyes were soft for the first time in a while. Soft but filled with grief. She wanted so bad to take all that pain away. But she couldn't.

Unless...

"Wait... that's it. I can try and maybe.. give them back to you?" She suggested. A gleam of hope sparked behind his eyes. "Could that work...?" He asked gently. "It's worth a shot, right?"

Bucky was unsure if he wanted her in his head again. But hearing her list all those things... it couldn't have been pretend.

"What's the plan?" He asked. Emilia fought back a smile, repositioning herself to sit parallel to him. "Let me think." She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at her hands.

Think, Emiliya, think. You can't let him down. Not again.

She crossed her legs, and so did he. She moved closer, not leaving much space between them. She then shifted her gaze to Bucky's hand and reached out her own, hovering it in the air between them.

Bucky stared at Emilia's outstretched hand, a storm behind his eyes. His mind screamed caution—reminded him of every lie, every betrayal, every reason to turn away. But something deeper, tugged at him. The way she looked at him now—wasn't the look of someone trying to control him. It was the look of someone trying to make it right.

He didn't know if he could trust her. But he wanted to. And sometimes, wanting had to be enough. So he took her hand—hesitant, but willing—and chose to follow his heart, even if it might break again.

a small shockwave tingled through their hands as they touched. A feeling that felt long forgotten.

Emilia set her feelings aside, thinking only about him and his memories.

She inhaled, focusing, trying to reach into the part of his mind that once held laughter and sunlight. But all she found were shadows and static.

She opened her eyes. "It's not working." He sighed in disappointment. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," she said, voice tight with frustration. "There's something blocking it. I need... I need more. A stronger connection." She looked around, thinking of a solution.

She hesitated for a second—then leaned in and gently pressed her forehead to his. The touch was featherlight, but the impact immediate.

Bucky stiffened. His breath caught. Emilia held his hand tighter. And so did he.

Then—the world he knew changed forever.

He saw a flash of dimly lit streets. Steve's tiny fists raised in a back-alley fight. The warmth of his sister's hair ribbon brushing his cheek. His mother humming to herself in the kitchen. The first time he danced with someone. The sound of his own laughter before the war, unburdened and bright.

Only it wasn't just those memories. He saw every memory that Emilia was in. Every laugh they shared. Every joke. Every hug. He saw it all.

The memories she transferred must've been not just his. But hers too.

His chest rose and fell unevenly as the memories poured back in like water returning to a dried-out riverbed.

When he finally opened his eyes, tears lined them—but they weren't from pain. "Emilia," he said, voice raspy like it hadn't been used in years. "I remember."

She didn't say anything. Just held his hand a little tighter, a smile growing on her face.

And for the first time in a long time...

He felt whole.

They sat there in silence for a while. Only it was a comforting silence. Bucky needed time to process everything. Emilia knew that. And she was going to be there for him every step of the way.

"Thank you..." He mumbled, holding onto her hand a little tighter. "I'm really sorry, James." She said gently. He nodded softly, coming to terms with the situation.

Bucky didn’t know if he should tell her that she saw her memories with him too. Would that scare her? Would she panic?

Another moment of silence passed by.

"I'm tired of trying to hate you, Mel." He muttered. She smiled softly, looking at their hands still tangled together. That was the first time he's called her Mel since her birthday. It felt like forever ago.

"I hate not talking to you every day. Not having you in my life anymore..." she started. "Could we at least try to be friends?"

Bucky felt those words hit him like a blow to the chest.

Friends.

After everything they've been through, after the surge of memories, after the moments they had not only in this world—but in his memories too, she wanted to just be friends.

It wasn't what he wanted—not at all.

He wanted to hold her hand and not have it be a part of some mission. He wanted to speak her name without the weight of betrayal behind it. He wanted more.

But he looked at her—really looked at her. The exhaustion in her eyes. The fear of taking one more step too far. She needed space. She needed safety.

He couldn't give her that.

"Yeah," he said with an almost convincing smile. "Friends."

As much as his heart ached, she mattered more than what he wanted.

He carefully slipped his hand out of hers, instantly missing her warmth, but he knew he couldn't hold it any longer. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back.

Emilia wasn't sure if that's what she wanted. To just be friends. But the words Bucky had told her all those days ago clung to her like a constant reminder.

"You can't know whether those feelings are real or not anymore! It was always a mission for you. You had to keep up the act. Your brain makes you fucking think that. But it's not real—no. It's not real ."

She doesn’t know what it’s like to love someone. She might never learn. But she wasn’t going to experiment on Bucky. He deserves better than that. He of all people deserves love. Real love.

She couldn’t give him that.

She faked a smile as his hand left hers, not letting it show how bad she wanted to take it back and never let go.

They just sat there. Never speaking the words on their mind. Perhaps if they did, they’d save each other the trouble of being friends.

And yet, they prioritised one another over themselves yet again.

The speakers suddenly crackled once more. “Oh, hey—would you look at that! It works!” Tony exclaimed as the elevator shook again.

Emilia and Bucky both exchanged looks, sensing foul play.

“You planned that, didn’t you?” Emilia rolled her eyes. “Me? Planned? How dare you accuse me of that. That’s preposterous. Treasonous!” Tony answered, a British accent slipping out.

Emilia giggled, looking down at her hands again as they fidgeted.

Bucky only watched her. Watched her laugh. Her smile.

He’s always admired it, but now it somehow felt more prominent. All these new memories felt like he got to live multiple timelines with her. And he fell for her in each and every one of them.

“Get us out of here. I’m getting claustrophobic.” Emilia joked, looking back at Bucky.

He would give anything in the world to stay in that elevator with her. Even for just a moment. Because as soon as they leave, he’ll have to pretend. Pretend he doesn’t want to spend every aching minute with her. Pretend he doesn’t want to touch her hair every time she sits near him. Pretend he doesn’t love her.

He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready to just be friends. He wanted more time. He needed more time.

But then—

The doors opened.

It didn’t matter anymore if he wasn’t ready. He’d rather admire Emilia from afar than not have her in his life at all.

Just pretend.

Chapter 22: Void

Notes:

Happy birthday Sebastian Stannn <333

It had been over a week since Bucky and Emilia decided to be friends. Sudden glances were exchanged. Soft smiles. No words.

It pained Bucky not being able to be as close to her anymore. He thought that if they were friends, he could at least still get to talk to her.

He never let it show, though. Always keeping up a front. Always.

Emilia wasn't doing much better. As much as she wanted to talk to him, she was scared to cross any lines. Lines that seemed harder to stay away from as the days went by.

She needs to move on. Somehow.

Since Alexei and Melina left a few days ago, Emilia has spent most of her time punching her way through her problems at the gym.

She was busy throwing punches at a practice dummy when someone unnoticeably entered the gym. Each step silent.

"Hey." His voice called out to Emilia. She jumped, relaxing when she recognised Bucky’s voice. "Hey." She turned around to greet him. "Didn't think you'd be here..."

"Didn't think you'd be avoiding me." Bucky smiled—not showing the hurt underneath his words. "I-I'm not avoiding you." She said unsurely.

"Oh yeah?" He took a step towards her. She took a step back. "You're avoiding me right now." He cocked his head.

Emilia's gaze dropped, rubbing the back of her neck. "You're right... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" she paused, not knowing how to come back from this.

"You wanna spar?" She asked hopefully. He furrowed his eyebrows curiously, looking her up and down. "Sure." He smiled.

Emilia grinned, eagerly getting on the mat. Bucky swiftly followed. "Can't remember the last time we sparred." Bucky remarked. "I can.." Emilia mumbled under her breath. Unheard.

"Don't take it easy on me." She smirked. "Wasn't planning on it."

She lunged first—sweeping low for his legs. He caught her ankle mid-swing and twisted, forcing her to stumble back.

Recovering fast, she went for a sharp jab to his ribs. He blocked it with his metal arm, the sound of metal meeting flesh muffled but solid.

Emilia shifted her weight, striking high this time, but he caught her wrist and pulled her forward, spinning her around so her back was against his chest.

Her breath hitched. "Not bad—"

Before she could finish, he hooked his foot around hers and swept her legs out from under her. She hit the mat with a soft thud, Bucky pinning her down with his weight.

His smirk was infuriatingly calm. "Now we're even." He teased. "Thought you didn't remember the last time we sparred." Emilia smiled softly.

"I lied." He grinned, standing and offering her a hand—which she reluctantly took.

Their moment quickly slipped away when a pair of designer shoes walked into the room, clicking loudly. "Emilia. You ready?" Tony's voice echoed.

"Now?" She asked disappointedly, noticing her hand still in Bucky's—retracting it immediately. "Ready for what?" Bucky asked. "I volunteered to have my memories scanned." Emilia shrugged, dropping her gaze.

"What?" Bucky asked worriedly. "Just the ones from my time at the Red Room and Hydra. Nothing personal.." Emilia reassured.

Bucky now turned to look at Tony. "Why?" "She might have something important hidden in her memories that she's not aware of. Could help us bring them down for good." He explained.

"Is it dangerous?" Bucky asked cautiously. "It's.. not pleasant." Tony cringed. Bucky's gaze found Emilia's again, eyebrows softening in pity. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Emilia paused, looking at Tony. "You really think it might help?" She asked. "I really hope so." "Then let's do it. Whatever it takes to end them once and for all. They've caused everyone enough grief." Emilia nodded.

She's trying so hard to get everyone's trust back. She's already got it.

Tony shook his head in agreement, ready to leave the room when Emilia called out for him. "Can I at least shower first?" She asked awkwardly. Tony stopped abruptly, smiling.

"Trust me, you're going to want to shower after the scan." Emilia's eyes widened in concern.

It can't be that bad. Right?

"I'm coming with you." Bucky stated. "You don't have to do that, James." Emilia scoffed, getting off the mat. "I do." He reaffirmed.

Emilia smiled, walking behind Tony. "Hope you don't mind Frankenstein's apprentice joining us." Tony teased Bucky. "Who—what?" Emilia furrowed her eyebrows.

"Bruce needed assistance with the mechanical aspect of the scan. Aaron's helping." Tony explained, not hiding his grin.

"Who's Aaron?" Bucky mumbled. "He's just a friend." Emilia rolled her eyes at Tony.

Just a friend. She sure likes having friends.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚:*･゜ﾟ･*˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

"So, what? I just get in that big glass box and have these wires stuck all over me? Thought it would be more science-y than that." Emilia criticised as she looked inside the box.

Inside the glass stood a tall, narrow arch, no bigger than a doorframe. A thin halo-like ring hung suspended in the arch's center, attached by slender metal arms.

To use it, all she had to do was stand beneath the ring. No restraints. No chair. Just her, the arch, and the crown of sensors lowering until it hovered barely an inch above her head—close enough that she could feel the static prickle against her scalp.

"I'm sorry you don't get to live out your Star Trek dreams—now get in the box." Tony scoffed. "You know, I haven't eaten yet.. Probably shouldn't do this on an empty stomach." Emilia added.

"You're stalling." Bruce grinned, looking up from his tablet. "You'll be fine." "Have you ever actually tried this out on anyone before?" Bucky asked cautiously. "No.. but I’m positive it will work."

Only that's not what Bucky worried about. What if she got hurt? What if she doesn't recover? He didn't care if it helped them destroy Hydra if he lost her in the process.

"Why’s the box so large? And thick?" She questioned. "We don't know much about your powers. But we know they're all related to your mind. Messing with it could.. trigger them. We can't take any chances." Tony explained.

Emilia looked at Bucky awkwardly before entering the box carefully. "Now, Aaron's gonna attach those wires to your temple and then your wrist to read your vitals. Make sure we don't go overboard." Bruce explained.

Emilia gulped as Aaron walked into the box, slowly approaching her. "Hey." He smiled, grabbing a wire and attaching it to her right-side temple. She only smiled in return.

Bucky watched from afar, not expressing his discomfort. He then softly grabbed her wrists, taking excruciatingly long to attach the wires. Bucky watched as his hand stayed on hers for longer than it should've.

I knew it.

Emilia saw Bucky’s expression change and immediately dragged her hand back. Aaron's disappointment didn't go unnoticed by her. But neither did Bucky's little smirk.

"Don't be scared, alright? I'm right outside." Aaron tried reassuring. But the only thing reassuring her in that moment was knowing Bucky was there. Watching over her.

She took a deep breath as Aaron walked out of the box, closing the door behind him. Locking it shut. She locked eyes with Bucky before looking at Bruce. "Ready?" He asked gently? "Ready."

Bruce's finger hovered over the button that would set it off. Emilia was sweating in anticipation.

Then suddenly.

Click.

At first, it was just a faint hum—then the sound rose, vibrating through her bones until it felt like her skull might split apart.

The first jolt ripped through her mind like lightning, bright and searing, making her gasp. It wasn't just pain—it was invasive, like claws digging into the deepest corners of her head, dragging every locked-away thought into the light.

An unrestrained, guttural scream ripped from her throat—raw, jagged, and louder than she even knew she could make.

"Stop—stop it! It's hurting her!" Bucky cried out. "I'm trying! It’s not working!" Bruce answered worriedly. Aaron ran up to the door, fumbling with the set of keys in his hands—forgetting which is which.

Bucky gritted his teeth at his incompetence, pushing him out of the way. With a strong thud, he burst through the glass door, breaking the lock.

Her vision blurred. Flashes came in violent bursts—sterile corridors, the metallic tang of blood, faceless instructors shouting in Russian. She tried to look away, but there was no away. The machine pulled her into it, forcing her to relive every second she had buried.

He ran to Emilia as her body started wobbling. "Wait! You can't enter the halo! Not until it's disconnected from her! It might—" Bucky didn't let him finish, grabbing Emilia's waist immediately. As he pulled off the wires attached to her head and wrists, his head started aching horribly.

Flashes of their memories ran on the monitor Bruce and Tony were watching. Neither said a word.

Bucky pulled her out of the arch, holding her tightly in his arms. He brushed the hair off her face, gently pulling up her head to look at her. "Are you okay?" He muttered.

She only hummed, leaning into his arms. "Jeez—were you trying to kill her?" Bucky yelled at Bruce. "Please.. don't yell." Emilia mumbled quietly. "Sorry." He whispered, tightening his grip on her.

"I told you—it's a painful procedure. I've had worse." Tony responded, feeling little pity. Bucky snarled, turning his attention back to Emilia.

"Did it work?" She asked tiredly. Bruce's disappointed look spoke for itself. "That was only twenty-seven percent..." The hope from Emilia's eyes faded faster than it ever had before.

"We need to go again." Tony stated. "Are you crazy? She could die!" Aaron yelled out, now standing beside Emilia, his hand on her back. Though Bucky couldn't see it from that angle, he felt it. He felt Aaron's heartbeat change when his hand touched her. It took everything in him not to say something.

She's not yours, James. Keep it together.

"How about we ask the person that's actually going through it?" Bruce called out. Everyone's gaze fell on Emilia. She sighed. "Hydra needs to go. I can handle it." She spoke up, softly pushing herself out of Bucky's arms.

"Emilia, don't do this. It's not worth it." Bucky pleaded. "They need to pay for what they did to you. It’s worth it." She argued, walking back into the arch that was temporarily turned off.

Only Bucky didn't know she wasn't just doing this to get back at Hydra. She was also punishing herself. She thought she deserved it after what she did to Bucky. The pain he felt. It's only fair.

Bucky couldn't force a word out. He couldn't speak. Next thing he knew, he got dragged out of the box by Aaron. His mind was so preoccupied with Emilia, he let it happen.

Once again, the door shut.

The same humming returned.

Emilia clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached. Every nerve screamed for her to break, to let it out—but she refused. Her breathing turned ragged, shallow bursts through her nose, nails digging into her palms.

The pain burned just as fiercely as before, but now she forced herself to stand rooted, shoulders squared, as if sheer defiance could keep her from crumbling. Her eyes glistened, not with surrender, but with the stubborn fire of someone determined to endure every second.

Over a minute had passed of that constant torture. That minute felt never ending. Tears ran down her face, knees starting to weaken.

By the time the machine stopped—and so did the humming—Emilia collapsed to the floor. Both Bucky and Aaron ran inside to help her. Aaron offered her a hand, while Bucky had one hand on her back, supporting it, and another hand holding hers.

He helped her up, Aaron’s hand eventually finding her back too, carefully holding her.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked this time. “I’m fine.” She spat. “Did it work now?” She asked, not lifting her head. “Yes—it did! You did great, Mel.” Bruce said with a smile. Only Emilia wasn’t feeling so smiley herself.

She exhaled in relief, accidentally stumbling right into Bucky’s chest. He instinctively pulled her in, knowing he shouldn’t have. “Sorry..” She mumbled, pulling away slightly. “Mel—your eyes..”

Everyone’s eyes landed on Emilia again, all staring in shock as they locked eyes with her. “What?” She asked cautiously. “Your eyes, they’re—they’re black. Entirely black. Just a void.” Bruce answered since no one else did.

This has happened to Emilia a few times during her time at the Red Room. She knew the drill. She quickly shut her eyes, clenching them hard. She opened them abruptly and then looked at Bucky. “Better?”

He only nodded, too mesmerised as he stared into her eyes and she into his. “What was that?” Aaron asked. Emilia laughed awkwardly at his question. “It’s a safety mechanism, so to speak.. They only do that when they sense I’m being threatened..”

“How do glowing eyes defend you, though?” Tony asked curiously. “They don’t. That’s the indication that I’m going into ‘survival mode’. During our trainings, whenever I reached that point, I’d always be put on a time-out—so I never found out what comes after the ‘void’.”

“Well, I’m glad for all our sakes today wasn’t the day you learnt something new about yourself.” Tony scoffed. “Can I go shower now?” She asked him again.

“Would be weird if I stopped you again, don’t you think?” Tony laughed, going into conversation with Bruce.

“You did great, Mel.” Aaron smiled.

Why is he calling her Mel? Did she let him? How close are they, exactly? Does he even have a last name? Who is this guy?

“Uh, thanks.” Emilia replied dryly. “I should.. go. Thank you guys for everything.” She slowly backed away from the two. A disappointed smile crossed both their faces as she walked away, fading into the hallway.