#RHODEY FOR PRESIDENT

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #133

Morgan Stark discovers the joke format, "__, __, and __ walk into a bar..." 

She doesn't quite get the concept, but she enjoys it. And, like most children, when she enjoys something she becomes absolutely obsessed with it.

Morgan: A spider, the spider's aunt, and a grumpy walk into the house!

Happy: Morgan that's not how that works

Peter: I dunno, you do seem more like a Grumpy than a Happy :)

---

Morgan: A princess, her bestest brother ever, and their cyborg chef walk into the kitchen.

Tony: You can just say you want pancakes, Mo.

Peter, tearing up: That's Princess Mo to you.

---

Bonus:

It becomes an inside joke that the whole family uses. 

Tony when Peter cuts off his coffee supply: (gasp) A genius, his robot minions, and a hater walk into the lab.

Peter, not even missing a beat: A genius, his son, and his robot children who agree with the son walk out of the lab and in to their beds.

Tony, so completely endeared every time Peter calls himself his son he can barely protest: I- I- now wait just a second...

---

Teen Morgan, upon finding her brother and MJ making out on the couch: Eughh! An intern, the goddess way out of his league, and the amount of space reserved for Jesus between them walk out of the shared living space.

[aurumacadicus]

*phone rings* Tony: Hello? Steve: Yeah, hi, is this Tony? Tony: Rhodey? Steve: No, this is Captain America. Tony: Oh! It's Captain America! Yeah, you're hilarious, Rhodey, you're just a regular riot. Steve: No, this isn't Rhodey, this is Captain America. Tony: Oh! Well, I'm glad you called, because I forgot to tell you today what a nice ass you have. I'm also impressed you were able to get my phone number given the fact that I don't have a phone. Good night, Rhodey. Steve: Uh, this isn't Rhodey-- Tony: *hangs up* Steve: *sigh* This used to be easier.

[softgreengrass]

I’ll Survive

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: happy then sad then happy, requested, supersoldier!r but it’s not relevant to plot

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: death, grief

A/N: thanks for the request!

You and Natasha are in the gym when FRIDAY calls a meeting.

“Come on, is that all you got?” she grins, leaning into the punching bag with all her weight.

You fire a few more jabs, and her feet slip back a little. Sweat rolls down your forehead.

“Attention, all,” FRIDAY’s voice rings out. “Mission briefing in the conference room. 10 minutes.”

You don’t stop your barrage of punches, your eyes locked onto the Avengers logo in the center of the bag.

“You sure you’re ready to get back into it?” Natasha asks.

You’ve been coming off of an injury for a few months now. Bad intel, a trap, a bullet straight through your femur — being on bedrest was your seventh circle of hell.

Instead of answering, you wind your fist back and hit the bag hard enough to send it flying across the room, taking Natasha with it. She slams against the wall and laughs.

You wipe your face with a towel before walking over and kicking the bag away from her. “Sorry.”

“Super soldiers,” she mutters, shaking her head.

You offer her a hand. She takes it, rising to her feet, and leans into your chest. Butterflies shoot through your stomach.

“You sure you’re ready?” she asks softly.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes flick down to your lips, and you pull her into a slow kiss. Her hands find the back of your neck, lace through your hair. It only lasts a few seconds before she swipes her foot behind your leg and shoves your shoulders hard.

You land flat on your back with a groan.

“10 minutes, killer,” she smirks. “And don’t ever do that again.”

You’re the last one in the conference room, and there are no seats left around the table. Cap shoots you a disapproving glance as you close the door behind you.

“Hope no one made any weekend plans,” Cap clears his throat. “Because we’re heading to Russia.”

Tony groans obnoxiously. “Come on, really?”

The holographic screen suspended above the table turns on, showing the floor plans of the Kremlin. Everyone falls silent.

“This isn’t a villain of the week, guys,” Steve sighs. “Hell, it’s not even HYDRA.”

You whistle, and Rhodey glares at you.

“As far as we can tell, the Russian government is doing this entirely of their own accord. The only one pulling the strings is Putin.”

“What are they doing?” Clint asks, leaning back in his chair.

“They want to put nukes in space.” Steve presses his clicker and the screen shows the earth and a dozen orbits around it. “That’s a one-way ticket to world war three.”

“And you want us to, what, eat the nukes?” Tony asks.

Cap clenches his jaw. “The Department of Defense wants us to make sure they don’t launch. My plan makes sure Putin won’t ever get the chance to.”

“You want to assassinate him?” Natasha asks quickly.

Steve faces her. “I want you to.”

Your eyes meet Natasha’s through the projection, and you swallow.

“He’s gotta be the most well-protected guy on the planet,” Bruce says.

“That’s a suicide mission!” Clint cries.

“Which is why we’re all going,” Steve says, in that authoritative old man tone that shuts everyone up. “Banner’s right. It’s going to take all of us just to get a chance.”

“Pretty sure assassinating the Russian president is an act of war,” you say. “Number two in command is just gonna send those nukes up and point them straight at the Pentagon.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Then they turn towards Steve.

“Which is why I have a plan,” he says firmly.

You don’t like it one bit. Not one bit. Natasha, undercover for two weeks without comms. Clint posing as a diplomat. The rest of you hunkered underground, waiting for the right moment to invade the Kremlin. It’s almost recklessly risky. And yet, Steve has his full faith in it, which means the rest of you do too.

That night, Natasha holds onto you tightly. She’s terrified to go back there, regardless of what she says. It’s worse than going after one cell, or even the Red Room itself. It’s the man behind the curtain who’s been controlling it all.

“It’s going to go fine,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you further into her.

“It is,” you say. You take her hands and press them into your sternum. You’d only succeeded in being the big spoon a couple times — never when she was stressed. So you stare at the wall. “I mean it.”

“Me too,” her breath fans against the back of your neck. “We’ve done harder things before, haven’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you exhale. “I mean, aliens? AI? Bruce when he’s hungry?”

She laughs, and that eases some of the pressure on your heart. “Worst case, I’ll survive.”

“You always do.”

“I always do,” she smiles. “And best case, I take care of him, you get rid of the cabinet, and Steve slides in his new leader. And we get out of there and go to… I don’t know. The Dominican Republic.”

“The Dominican Republic?”

“Why not?” she kisses your shoulder. “A vacation. Moscow’ll be a pretty intense way to get back into the action. You’ll deserve a break.”

“I’ve been on a break for three months,” you snort.

“Oh come on, you don’t want a piña colada? Palm trees? White sand beaches?”

“Well when you put it like that,” you say, turning around to face her. “I guess we could go to the Dominican Republic.”

She smiles, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Promise?”

You could stare into the green of her eyes forever. “Promise.”

Not three weeks later, you sit staring at a computer screen in a bunker a hundred feet below Red Square. Tony sits to your left. There’s no point in watching the feed, since all of the cameras are outside of the Kremlin and Natasha walked in an hour ago, but you can’t help it. You feel powerless.

For ten days, Natasha has been Alina Konstantinovna Petrova, a middle-aged politician who just got back from a stint in Belarus. When she emerged wearing the nanotech mask for the first time, you genuinely didn’t recognize her. Her voice, her gait, her mannerisms — all changed. Sometimes you forget she’s the world’s greatest spy.

But with no comms and no tracker, all you have is your faith in that fact. Just your trust in her.

If she’s on schedule, she should be having tea with the Prime Minister, but really she could be anywhere, doing anything. There’s absolutely no way for you to know.

“You know,” Wanda sighs, tipping back in her office chair and tossing a tennis ball into the air. “I don’t think all of us had to be here.”

“Agreed,” Tony grumbles. “I was supposed to be at a gala right now.”

“Do you think-”

“Quiet!” Steve orders, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “Do you see that? Is that smoke?”

You lean closer. It is smoke, pouring out of a second-floor window, and it makes your stomach drop.

Steve taps into the emergency comms in Clint’s ear. “Is there a fire? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Clint’s voice replies, hushed. “I don’t know, they put us into a ballroom. I don’t know where she is.”

“Shit,” Steve mutters.

“What do we do?” you ask, rising to your feet.

Steve grimaces. “If… if we make contact now, she won’t have a shot. It’ll all be for nothing.”

“The Kremlin isn’t usually on fire,” you snap.

“I’m sure she can handle it,” he glares back. His voice is dangerously quiet when he speaks again. “She knows what’s on the line here.”

But five minutes later, the smoke hasn’t stopped. It’s spread. Clint and the other diplomats are being evacuated.

You keep your eyes glued to the feed, scanning for Alina Petrova’s face among the crowd. She never emerges, but neither do the Prime Minister or cabinet. Maybe there’s a hidden exit.

Just when it seems like the fire is coming under control and the chaos is cooling, the cameras cut out.

You rush for the exit immediately, Tony and Steve right on your heels. Your entire body goes numb as you climb the ladder.

It’s probably fine, you think, hands squeezing the rungs too tight. The fire burned a power line, or the government stopped the footage to protect their image. She’s fine. She’s fine.

You heave the manhole cover out of place with your shoulder, hoisting yourself onto the street and ignoring the pedestrians who stare at you.

It’s absolute pandemonium. There’s a crater where half of the Kremlin used to be, and the other half is engulfed in flames. You sprint towards it.

Steve immediately shouts after you, but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears.

Maybe there’s a hidden exit. She had to have noticed the fire, she would’ve escaped, she would’ve made it out. She would’ve.

The police that are always stationed around the Kremlin make a border around it, though no one except you is trying to go towards the burning building.

“Ostanavis’!” they yell, but you hurdle their makeshift barricade.

If she was on schedule, she would’ve been on the east side, top floor. The heat doesn’t even register in your mind.

You root through rubble as fast as you can, barely noticing when Wanda and Steve join you in your search. Smoke stings your eyes and fills your lungs until you can barely choke out a breath.

There are heaps of ash that might’ve once been people, might’ve once been Natasha.

You climb trembling supports to get to the second floor: there are bones there, even fragments of medals and jewelry. The farther you get from the crater the less charred the bodies become. But you can only get so close to the live blaze, and none of the bodies are hers. The skin on your hands begins to blister from red-hot ash and metal.

At some point Steve pulls you away, ignores the way you claw at him and scream that you won’t leave her. The three of you (Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey had been wise enough to run away from flaming wreckage) end up in a Russian prison, charged as enemies of the state responsible for the fire and ensuing blast.

By the time the Department of Defense negotiates you out, you’ve convinced yourself that Natasha must’ve escaped. There’s no other option. She couldn’t die. If you didn’t find her, she couldn’t have been there. She must’ve gotten out.

But when you walk into SHIELD’s Moscow base, she isn’t there. It’s only Fury and Clint.

“Where is she?” you ask, rushing towards them. Everyone else seems to slip out of the room.

Fury’s eyes stay trained on you, swimming with something you don’t want to decipher. Your heart pounds against your chest

“Where is she?”

“She’s dead,” Clint says, his voice raw.

“No,” you respond immediately. “No, she isn’t.”

He closes his eyes.

No. You see a flash of her smile, of the jacket she loved. You feel the ghost of her touch on your face.

“I thought she faked it,” Fury says after a moment. “But… we made a deal a few years ago. If one of us faked it again we’d leave something behind so the other would know. A ring.”

You’ve never heard his voice so weak before. Somehow it’s scarier than anything else.

“But there was no ring,” he clears his throat. “Just this.”

He holds out his hand, opens it. The necklace you gave Natasha last year is bunched up on his palm, dark with soot. Your knees almost give out. She never takes it off, not to sleep or train or go undercover. She would never leave it behind.

Reality dawns on you like an awful black wave. Natasha is dead.

“I’m sorry,” Fury says, resting a hand on your shoulder. You can’t feel it. Every breath, every blink is manual now, every movement an act of will.

Worst case, I’ll survive.

You just want to hug her again. Just see her face one more time, knowing it’ll be the last. Suddenly a deep red rage fills your vision, and your muscles twitch to strangle whoever set the fire, whoever planted the bomb.

“There was no body?” you ask hoarsely. You can’t tear your eyes from the necklace.

Fury shakes his head. “Ash.”

A lump forms in your throat that won’t leave for weeks. You feel like you’re looking at everything through frosted glass, frozen in the moments that you just held. It’s like you’ve been caught in a spiderweb.

You don’t cry until you set foot inside her room at the compound. Everything is just how she left it, like she just stepped out. Like she’ll come back any second now.

The covers on her bed are rumpled.

You can’t wrap your kind around the fact that she could be gone, vanished into thin air, reduced to dust. That she’ll never touch anything again. You sit down on the floor and hug your knees.

For a few days you don’t eat; you don’t speak for longer. The gaping hole in your chest churns and twists in an agonizing way. Every night you dream of refusing Steve’s plan, or going up as soon as you saw the smoke, or doing anything except sitting idly while she burned alive.

You’re at Steve’s throat often enough that Tony kicks you both out of the compound. It’s not like either of you are of use, anyways. The others manage to channel their sorrow into work. You don’t.

Clint takes time off, too. Laura manages to convince you it’ll be good.

But with nothing to distract you, you feel the pain of every passing moment. Every minute that you get older and she doesn’t. You don’t want to have to think of a life without her in it.

Weeks or months into your dull gray blur of a life, someone knocks on your door. You hope it’s not Steve. You don’t know if it’s the season, but you could spring for a box of Thin Mints.

It’s not a girl scout. It’s Natasha.

Your eyes go wide; your face pales. Nanotech mask? Clone? “A-Are you real?”

She wheezes out your name, keeps her hands clutched to her side.

“Is it really you?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears and your hands trembling as you reach out to touch her.

“I missed you,” she breathes, her eyes roaming your face.

She has a black eye and a split lip. It’s her. You drink in the green of her eyes and the red of her hair and the softness of her face and you can’t keep the sobs from escaping. She crashes into your arms, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ribs. She smells like sweat and home.

Natasha is crying too, shaking, her face hidden in your chest. You close your eyes and tilt your head down to rest your lips on her head.

“You’re hurt,” you say when you remember how to speak.

She pulls away and kisses you deeply. It feels like God blessing you, even if it tastes like blood. She’s real. You don’t let go of her until she gently pushes you away.

“We should go inside,” she whispers.

You’re in a daze for half an hour, while you wrap her ribs and bandage the gash on her arm. She doesn’t leave your gaze for one second. When you’re finally satisfied that she won’t drop dead, you collapse onto the couch next to her.

She climbs on top of you, pulls you close.

“They were onto me,” she murmurs into your hair. “I had to escape, I couldn’t let them think I was alive.”

Anger roars in your chest. “I’m not losing you again.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill them,” you growl, wrapping your arms around her securely.

“I’ll help,” she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “They’re probably coming here.”

“You were followed?”

“I wanted to see you,” she sighs. “I didn’t take all the precautions.”

You laugh and bury your face into the crook of her neck. “You think we can go to the Dominican Republic after?”

“I’ll break up with you if we don’t.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Seven

Wanda Maximoff x Nerd!Reader (High School AU)

You're not one to attend high school king Tony Stark's swanky house parties. But your best friend and popular magic user Wanda Maximoff personally invited you, batting her eyes, practically begging you to go with her.

Something about the atmosphere of the party just wasn’t your suit. Normally you’d prefer a night in, but Wanda wanted to be here and that’s all that mattered to you. You and Wanda make your way through the swarm of other party going students.

“Well who do we have here?” Tony smirks at seeing you with Wanda. “you finally got the turtle to come out of their shell, eh Maximoff?”

“Oh stop it, Stark” Wanda couldn’t help but laugh as she wraps an arm around you.

“It’s good to see you here, Y/N” Tony earnestly says. Despite all his showboating, Tony does care about his party guests and those he consider friends. He hands you a bottle of Coke. “Have fun” he gives a friendly wink before sending you and Wanda off into the crowd.

Wanda tries to bring you out of your shell, introducing you to some of the other popular students, taking you out on the little dance floor. The last one actually started to work. Something about dancing with Wanda just made you feel free.

“You’re a great dancer” she whispers in your ear, “you got some good moves”

“T-Thanks” you blush, “so do you”

The party was nearing its end. You happen to see Wanda whisper something in Stark’s ear. His eyes went wide with mischief. Wanda walks back over to you with a little blush on her face.

“Alright everyone” Tony calls out, “time for a little end of party game: seven minutes in heaven”

Everyone groans. “Not this again Tony” Natasha bemoans, “you always choose Pepper”

“Guilty” Tony smirks, “but don’t worry, it’s ladies choice tonight”

A few of the gals were shaking their heads laughing but Wanda was blushing. Carol was already taking Rhodey’s hand. Natasha was taking Bruce’s. You swear that Wanda was stealing little sideway glances at you.

“And first up” Tony gestures to Wanda, “Maximoff pick your partner”

Wanda takes your hand, blushing and batting her hazelnut eyes at you, “Mind joining me?”

Your mind couldn’t even process what was happening. You could only blush and nod your head. Wanda guides you towards a closet. Tony sets a chair down in the closet.

“Seven minutes” he says, “and only seven!” He shuts the door, leaving only you and Wanda in the close and intimate setting of a closet.

You turn and lock eyes with your best friend, her eyes hold only love and adoration for you. “Why me?” you ask her in a gentle whisper.

She guides you to sit down in the chair. She straddles your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“You don’t even know how wonderful you really are” she answers back.

“But I’m a just nerd and you’re-” you stammer out, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

“You’re amazing, and intelligent and loving, and kind” she cuts you off, “everything I’ve ever wanted”

“You could have an athlete for a love”

“But I don’t want a jock. I want you and only you” her nimble finger massage your scalp. “Do you love me?”

Your eyes remain locked on hers, all the unsaid words come rushing out of your mouth, “I do. I love you so much Wanda Maximoff”

“Took you long enough” she giggles as she pulls you into a kiss. Your hands wrap around her waist, keeping her firmly in your lap. Wanda lets out gentle moans against your lips.

“A great dancer and kisser?” she giggles, “I may just have to keep you”

“I was always yours” you whisper back before kissing her again.

“Time’s up” Tony calls out as he reaches for the door. Wanda quickly locks it with her powers. She giggles against your lips, a little mischievous giggle.

“Oh come on!” Tony calls out, “how am I supposed to make out with Pepper?”

Pepper, the class president, smacks her boyfriend upside the head as you and Wanda remain lost in your own little world.

Wanda Maximoff, the most popular girl in school, but more importantly, your best friend and loving girlfriend. What more could you need?

Tags: @aloneodi @lifespectator @cole-el @scarletwitch-n7 @fromtimetoinf @abimess @ab1nsur

[adrixivy]

Steve has lived in ice for 70+ years. Due to that, he missed several generations of trends, news, references. Every time someone mentions a reference from a show or movie. he’s always confused. So imagine someone mentions something he knows or understands where the references came from. He’s immediately pointing it out that he does know. And the Avengers don’t know whether to adore the man or roll their eyes. (Tony is the one that mainly rolls his eyes)

The Avengers are in a mission. And suddenly a giant robot, nearly as tall as the Avengers tower is released onto them. And they’re hitting it with their weapons which does damage yet it’s not showing any indication that it’ll shut off. And Peter being Peter, realised this is something familiar that happened in a movie

Peter, swinging around the robot looking for something: Have you guys seen Despicable Me 3? It’s basically Minions 3 but anyway, you guys know it?!

Steve, having watched it with Peter, (Peter got up to get popcorn and let the movie run and Steve decided to just seat on the couch and watch. Peter did not realize Steve was there after he got his popcorn either. He jumped up onto the ceiling after Steve stood up and walked away after the end of the movie, absolutely startled) replied immediately enthusiastically: I know! I know that! The tiny yellow beings!

Tony sighs and the rest of the team chuckles or rolls their eyes. Peter giggles at the man’s excitement and he carries out the plan with reference from it.

Peter, who found what he’s looking for: Mr Rogers! Remember that one scene where Dru breaks into the robot and breaks its core? Well I found it! At the lower back of the bot, there’s a circular panel! Break into the robot and break the core please! I’ll get you up! Avengers, I need your help restraining its movements so Cap can do it easier!

Immediately, the Hulk and Thor is holding one of the bot’s legs and Tony and Rhodey is trying to hold down the other too. Peter swings by Steve and grabs his hand. He swings with one hand to the panel and throws Steve directly onto it. Steve sticks his shield into the back of the bot and punches the panel open till it makes an opening big enough for him to fit through.

Peter is immediately down at the legs, swinging around it a few times to wrap its legs with webs and help Tony and Rhodey with holding the legs back. The robot seem to be going straight to some destination, which Friday had concluded that it was the President’s home, the white house. So they’re all desperately trying to stop it but Peter’s webs was easily torn apart and the robot is able to walk smoothly again.

Tony, seriously annoyed of the robot and wants to go home, shouts sarcastically: Anytime now, Steve!

Steve who had to climb up all the way to the bright red square that seems like the same core in the movie and genuinely believes it is it as it stands out: God, I hope this is it.

He smashes the bright red square with his shield and it shatters. The robot sputtered and soon enough, shuts down and was falling over. Steve quickly jumped out and was caught by Tony and Rhodey, grabbing one of his arms. Peter is immediately cheering.

Then suddenly Friday finds out the whereabouts of the mastermind who released the huge robot and the Avengers teleport there thanks to Stephen. Peter is immediately cackling and Steve is trying to hold in his giggles before he gave up and laughed too at the sight of the mastermind. Who has obnoxiously big goggles and their entire theme is yellow. The Avengers are looking at them weirdly and the mastermind is confused and furious because why are they laughing?

Peter, in the middle of laughing: HE-HE’S YELLOW-HAHAHA-LIKE THE MINIONS AND THE MINIONS LOVE TO-BAHAHA-BE DESPICABLE

Steve, trying to stop laughing with a hand on his mouth but can’t help it and looks away: S-stop it Peter *giggles right after*

Peter, can’t help but say one more joke: What’s your catchphrase? Oh, Despicable me?-HEHEHEAHAHAH

Peter is on the floor, clutching his stomach and Steve is hiding his face behind the shield, embarrassed that he can’t control his laughter. The avengers either have a grin on their face or are chuckling at the scene right now.

The mastermind is immediately yelling at them to ‘Stop it!’ and Peter laughs louder at the villain’s high pitched voice. He looks and sounds exactly like a minion that it’s incredibly more hilarious to Peter and Steve. Steve is embarrassed of himself for not being able to hold in his laughter. He’s literally a soldier but he can’t help it so he’s hiding his face behind the shield and giggling away. The two laughing Avengers are out of commission for the time being as the others take down the mastermind and bind him up.

The mastermind is brought along with them in the Quinjet and whenever Peter looks at him, he can’t help but laugh and whenever Peter laughs, Steve laughs too. And the Avengers are honestly tired of the villain screaming at them to tell the two to stop so they forced Peter and Steve to one side and not even allow them a glance at the yellow midget with the weirdest goggles.

The Avengers learnt that day that Peter and Steve knowing movie references makes them a dangerous duo

Peter and Steve start watching movies together more often after that day since Peter has made it his personal mission to make Steve know more movies when he found out that Steve barely knew any when they were forced to one corner together. Tony doesn’t know if he should be threatened that Peter’s spending more time with Steve than him or happy that Peter’s golden retriever energy is being spread everywhere or concern when the next mission comes up and they use a movie reference for the next mission.

Probably all three.

[staying-elive]

Okay Fury, I respect your whole "Only superpower I have was given to me by my single mum" thing. But seriously, phone a friend.

Light the beacons.

Call for aid.

Something!

And yes, I'm totally biased because I'm a Sam girlie, but SAM WOULD ANSWER!

The US president was nearly killed, Rhodey's a Skrull (still no hint when that happened), potential global war is imminent. Where is my Captain America to do the right thing!?

I love Fury, but this should've been an Avengers movie.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

I'm From Brooklyn, Too ~ 163

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

I'M FROM BROOKLYN, TOO MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,945ish

Summary: John Walker uses the shield to kill someone. Natasha and Y/N take matters into their own hands.

Notes: I hope that this chapter makes sense. Please let me know if you enjoy it!

“Y/N, I know that I promised to call. I’m sorry. But right now—“

“Bucky,” tears were collecting in her eyes, “I need you.”

“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay? Is Morgan okay?” Bucky’s questions came at a rapid speed, not allowing Y/N to get a word in before he spouted the next one. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the hospital.”

“The hospital?!”

“I had a seizure.”

“You had a… a seizure? I thought your powers wouldn’t allow that?”

“Because of what I did during John’s press conference, we decided to try and control my powers.”

“What did they do to you?”

“Bucky, I chose to wear the bracelets. I knew that this could be a consequence. But… But I didn’t think it would actually happen… Bucky… I’m scared.”

“I know, doll. I know.”

“Where are you? I… I need you.”

Bucky sighed. “I’m stuck in a situation right now. But I’ll be on my way back to the States soon… I need you to do something for me, doll. Don’t watch the news.”

“Why not? Did something happen?”

“I will tell you what happened when I get there, but I need you to promise me to not watch the news.”

“Bucky—“

“Promise me. I can’t have your powers controlling you or have you seizing up before I get there.”

“I promise.”

Before Bucky could hang up, Natasha and Rhodey came bursting through the door.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked.

“It’s John Walker,” Rhodey responded.

“Don’t—“

“He just killed a man on multiple livestreams… using the shield.”

“B—Bucky?” Y/N stuttered, trying to reign in her swirl of emotions.

“Stay with me, doll,” Bucky encouraged.

“What are you doing right now?”

Bucky sighed. “Chasing after Walker.”

“Get the shield back and come home… Please.”

“I’ll do my best.” Then he hung up.

“I’ve got to go handle this,” Rhodey stated. “Keep me updated on your progress and what you decide to do with the bracelets.” Rhodey left before Y/N could even reply.

“Nat…” Y/N breathed out. “You need to get these bracelets off of me… before I throw myself into another seizure. I promise that I’ll stay put and not go after John myself, but you need to get these off me. Now.”

“I’m on it,” Natasha said, quickly pulling out her phone and accessing FRIDAY.

The bracelets on Y/N’s wrists suddenly unlatched and fell into her lap. Y/N gasped as the feeling of her powers rushed back.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N responded. “It’s just a lot… Rhodey’s going to be pissed.”

“Rhodey can deal with it. He’s just forgotten reality since he became the President.”

Y/N nodded, thinking about what was going on outside of this room. “I want to go rip the shield from John’s hands.”

“I know… What if we went together? I could claim to be monitoring you and we could teach him a lesson ourselves. I’ve been feeling the need to kick some ass.”

“I’m in.” Y/N closed her eyes and held her hand up, twisting her wrist slightly as green emanated from her fingertips.

“What was that?”

“A nice trick to guarantee that we don’t miss out on any of the action.”

~~~

The warehouse was dark and the air thick with tension. Almost as soon as Natasha and Y/N stepped through the portal, time began again. They had both changed into their old SHIELD suits and weaponed up in case this turned into a major fight. As they turned the corner, they saw John Walker kneeling with the bloody shield on the ground.

“Romanoff?” Sam questioned, jogging in the women’s direction with Bucky right behind him. The two looked like they had already been in a major fight.

“Y/N?” Bucky called.

“It was my idea to come,” Natasha quickly said. 

John glanced to look at who was with him. He shook his head and chuckled.

“You called for backup?” John taunted. 

“They didn’t call,” Y/N stated, stepping closer. “We heard what you did.”

John stood up and began pacing, holding the shield on his arm. “They saw what happened. Barnes and Wilson know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John,” Bucky tried to reason with him. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.”

“I’m not like you.”

“Damn right,” Y/N muttered. “You’re worse.”

“Listen, it was the heat of the battle. Okay?” Sam tried. “If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

Y/N noticed how Natasha was watching the trails of blood, sliding down the shield and dripping onto the floor. 

“You gotta give me the shield, man,” requested Sam.

“Oh, so that’s what this is,” John’s voice was getting louder. “That’s really why they’re here, isn’t it?” He motioned to Y/N and Natasha, who were both ready to pounce at any second. “To force the shield from me.”

“That’s exactly what we’re here for,” Natasha replied, taking a step towards John.

“You almost got me.”

“You made a mistake,” Sam was urging John to see reason.

“You don’t wanna do this.”

“Yeah,” Bucky responded, “we do.”

Natasha ran forward and kicked John back before he could use the shield to deflect. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. Y/N moved her hands ever so slightly, causing nearby ropes and metal to latch onto John’s limbs and pin him to the ground.

“Y/N—“ 

“No, Sam,” Y/N interrupted. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“It’s mine!” John shouted, thrashing around as much as he could in the bindings. “It’s mine! I’m Captain America!”

Natasha pressed her foot to John’s chest, causing him to cough some. She leaned down to look at him face-to-face “You will never be Captain America,” Natasha’s voice was scarily quiet.

With a slight move of Natasha’s head, Y/N walked over and used her powers to retrieve the shield from John. She quickly cleaned it and opened up a portal. Natasha stepped off of John and the two women disappeared with the shield before the men could say anything more.

~~~

Natasha had scrubbed the shield herself at least a dozen times now. Y/N was inside the house, watching her old friend. Y/N was feeling incredibly guilty. Since Tony died, Y/N had been incredibly selfish. Natasha had been there at every moment, picking up the pieces that Y/N left behind and taking care of Morgan. But at no point did anyone think to check on Natasha. As she repeatedly washed the shield, it was clear that Nat was not okay.

“Nat,” Y/N called as she stepped out onto the porch. Natasha continued to scrub away at the shield. “Natasha, you’re going to peel the paint.” Ignored again. With a sigh, Y/N used her powers to turn off the water. “Tell me what’s going through your head.”

“Steve would’ve hated John,” she whispered, eyes still focused on the shield. “He would have been so disappointed in Sam giving up the shield and the damage John has done to the mantle.”

“I’m sure he would have destroyed so many punching bags.”

“Tony would have been pissed about the punching bags.”

“Yet, he would have constantly been on the phone trying to figure out how to punish John.”

A tear slipped down Natasha’s cheek and fell onto the shield. “I miss them… I miss… I miss the good old days.”

Y/N let out a playful scoff as she sat on the porch steps. “The good old days? When were those?”

“There were small periods like when we were all living in the Tower or when the Compound was first built that it felt like one big happy family… There were even times after Morgan and you were home from the hospital that I felt like we were all going to be okay. Now…”

“You’re pushing yourself too hard, Nat. Putting too much on you. And I realize that a lot of it is my fault. You have constantly been there for me and my… well my more choices.”

Natasha shook her head. “Y/N, your husband died. Your brother left you. None of that was your choice. You needed help.”

“Some things were choices. Westview. My powers. I am to blame… Nat, you need to take care of yourself. You lost Steve and Tony, too. They were your friends. You watched people turn to dust and you stayed to help me and my family. You saved the universe, losing friends in the process, and you stayed to help… It’s time for me to help you.”

Tears were still falling down Natasha’s cheeks. It was rare to see the tough spy break like this. “I don’t know where to start. I… I’m not ready to move out. I love Morgan too much and you need help too. And I… I can’t be alone anymore.”

“You never have to move out, Nat. You can stay forever. I love having you here and so does Morgan. What I mean is that you need to go to yoga or start seeing a therapist. Maybe you start teaching self-defense classes or you were working with Pepper at one point, go back to that. You need something for yourself, Natasha.”

“There’s very few things in my life that I’ve done for myself.”

“It’s time to change that.”

~~~ 

Rhodey wasn’t happy about Y/N choosing to take her bracelets off or that she and Nat decided to retrieve the shield themselves. He was glad that the shield was no longer in John’s grasp. Rhodey informed the two women of a Senate hearing about what John had done and invited the two to speak at it. They both declined.

May still had Morgan, after the little girl and Peter convinced the adults to let her stay a little bit longer. Y/N was cleaning up the house, there alone, while Natasha was out running errands. She could sense the man coming to the door before there was ever a knock. Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked over to the door and opened it. Bucky was standing on the porch, hands hiding in his jacket as he nervously glanced around.

“Bucky,” Y/N breathed out, “come on in.” She opened the door wider.

“Thanks,” he muttered, stepping inside. “You have quite the security team out there. Didn’t think you’d need something like that.”

“My actions during John’s interview caused some riots. Rhodey put security on me.”

“To protect you or them?”

Y/N shrugged. “Both. Have a seat.” She motioned to the couch. Bucky nodded, sitting on one end while Y/N sat on the other. 

“I didn’t know if you still wanted to talk after you and Natasha disappeared with the shield.”

“Of course, I still want to talk. What happened with John wasn’t your fault.” She reached over and gently touched his arm. “I’m glad you came.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“I know… we’ve both hurt each other in different ways for so long.”

“I’m sorry, for everything.”

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

Bucky moved closer and removed his metal hand from his jacket pocket. He took her hand in his and carefully held it. “I’ve missed you.”

“You have no idea,” Y/N began crying. “Can we… somehow, after almost a hundred years, simply start over?”

“We can try.” Bucky turned to better face you. “Hi, my name is James and I would like to take you out on a date.”

next chapter >

[scoonsalicious]

Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

In the meantime, please enjoy this second installment of Unwanted: Unusables, or, chapters from the first draft that didn't make it into the final cut of the finished story! Today, I have an early version of Chapter 6: Unattached. A lot of the beginning is the same (the dinner itself), but there was a LOT I added, then removed, from the end of the chapter. Jade was going by Jewel at this point in the draft, and Tony had gifted Pocket a Ferrari Sergio as his post-Civil War apology.

Why did I scrap this section? Easy: I couldn't realistically convince myself that Nat didn't know how to drive stick shift, lol.

Since this is the whole chapter (as it was) in its entirety, it's long AF.

Enjoy!

You and Bucky arrived at the common room an hour or so later, the sound of laughter filtering out from inside.

"Sounds like it's going well," Bucky turned to you with a hopeful smile. "Try to play nice in there, okay?"

"I'm always nice," you pouted, but when Bucky gave you a pointed look, you sighed. "Fine. It goes against my better judgement," you said, adjusting the collar of Bucky's shirt, "but I'll do it for you."

The look he gave you was indiscernible. There was warmth and affection there, but also an undercurrent of sadness in it that left you unsettled. You swallowed, looking away from him. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, putting more conviction in your voice than you felt.

He took your hand, and together you walked into the common room. It wasn't hard to spot Jewel-- she was presiding smack dab in the middle of the room, telling some story that had Sam, Steve, Rhodey, Thor, and even Bruce all at rapturous attention.

"I'm going to go introduce myself real quick, then be right back," said Bucky, letting go of your hand and heading over to where Jewel had was holding court. The temperature of the air seemed to drop ten degrees without the warmth of his presence by your side.

You watched as he made his way over to stand beside Steve. In seemingly no time at all, Steve was making the introductions. Bucky took Jewel's hand, and to your surprise, he bent over and kissed her knuckles. Your mind's eye took you back to the day you'd met him, when you'd pulled your own hand back after he'd refused to even shake it.

Jewel demurred and looked away from Bucky, bashfully, before putting a hand on his chest and saying something that made Bucky laugh and caused his cheeks to blush.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself.

"What happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

"String Theory?" asked Tony, popping up behind you both with a glass of whiskey. "Seems like a heavy topic of conversation for a social gathering, ladies."

"How'd the interview go?" you asked, hoping to move the topic of conversation as far away from Bucky as possible, now that Tony was there.

"She's everything you said, and more," said Tony with a sad shake of his head. "She put on a good show, though. Cap was eating right out of her hand."

Disappointment coursed through you at his words. "Looks like he's not the only one," you murmured as you watched Jewel let out a coquettish giggle at something Bucky said.

You kept up your conversation with Tony to keep yourself from openly staring, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else. Your heart sank every time they shared a laugh or a joke, or Jewel leaned into Bucky ever so slightly. You found yourself tensing each time Bucky reached out and put a hand on Jewel's arm or shoulder in response to something she said-- all too familiar gestures that you'd grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of, not watching him impart on others from a distance. So much for his "be right back."

You hated yourself for feeling this way.

Eventually, Tony's personal chef, Raul, called everyone to the table for dinner and the little gathering around Jewel broke up. Normally, you would be excited-- you loved it when Raul cooked special dinners for the team, but tonight you were on edge. Following Nat and Tony to the table, you froze in your tracks while you watched Bucky pull back a chair-- your chair, the one you had sat in, next to Bucky, for every meal for the last year-- for Jewel, pushing it in for her as she sat down.

Your heart felt like it was being ripped in half. Your brain automatically began thinking up excuses you could make for leaving the room, but you knew that would only make things worse for you in the long run.

The air around you suddenly felt as though it had grown colder. Everyone around you had noticed Bucky pull out a chair for Jewel-- silently declaring to all that tonight, she was the one he wanted next to him, and not you, despite your unspoken ritual. Sam shot you a sympathetic look, and Steve, who had been getting ready to sit at Bucky's other side, moved to offer you his chair, instead, as if that would make up for Bucky's slight.

You grimaced and silently shook your head at Steve, not wanting to draw any more attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way to the only remaining seat at the table next to Nat-- directly across from Jewel and Bucky.

As you sat down, Jewel looked up at you with a bright smile. "Hi," she said, voice like honey. "I don't think we had a chance to meet yet. I'm Jewel, but you can call me 'Vixen.'"

You looked at her, confusion leaking into your features.

"I thought the two of you met when you gave Vixen her tour earlier," Bucky said, apparently remembering that you did exist, after all.

"Oh, no," Jewel (you absolutely refused to refer to her as 'Vixen,' even in your own head) said with a dismissive laugh, "they had some little bitch of an intern give me my tour. I should actually complain to Stark about her, she had an attitude."

"No, that was definitely me," you said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of your tone, "attitude and all." You had literally wasted three and a half hours of your life escorting this woman around the Tower and she couldn't be bothered to remember you? Jewel didn't even have the decency to look chastised at calling you bitchy to your face.

"They let interns have dinner with the Avengers?" she asked in disbelief, instead. "Have to say, I thought it be a little more... elite."

"Pocket's not an intern," Steve said with a laugh, as though it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and you were grateful to him for coming to your defense. "She's an Avenger, just like the rest of us." You gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched he had called you an Avenger.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities, but she's brilliant. She's an expert in strategy, she's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation, and she's got a black belt in Krav Maga. It's no exaggeration to say I'd be dead a couple dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You were speechless at Steve's words, your throat tightening with the emotional lump that had formed there. That may have been the kindest, sweetest thing anyone had said about you, ever, especially on the heels of Bucky's comment. Catching his eye, you mouthed a silent thank you, wishing you could convey how much his words meant to you. He winked at you in acknowledgement.

"I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the dangerous stuff," Bucky backpedaled, weakly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, impassively, until he looked away, embarrassed. He knew you only called yourself 'Avenger-adjacent' when you were being hard on yourself. He fucking knew it, because he had told you to knock it off a hundred times.

"So, Pocket's an interesting name," Jewel said, and you were momentarily grateful to her for trying to move the conversation on to something less embarrassing for you. "Did your parents, like, hate you or something?" she continued with a giggle. Well, that was a short-lived respite.

"Yeah, they did, actually," you said, completely straight-faced, "but the feeling was mutual, so no love lost there."

Jewel's mouth dropped open in shock and you had the distinct impression you'd ruined whatever power play she'd been trying to pull on you.

Nat broke into laughter next to you, and soon everyone else around you was joining in. While only a select few at the table knew the full extent of what your parents had put you through, it was no secret that you had experienced abuse at their hands, and it was second nature for you to use dark humor to help you cope with it.

As the laughter died down, the small talk started up again. You were thankful for the distraction, but your appetite was gone, which was a shame, because Raul had done an excellent job. You pushed your food around your plate, occasionally nodding along as though you were paying attention to the conversations around you.

You tried to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jewel directed at Bucky, but your eyes kept flickering over to them. You couldn't help but notice the way his body leaned in slightly towards hers when they talked. Did he do that when he spoke to you? He hadn't even said a word to you since the horrible Avengers-adjacent comment.

"So, Bucky," Jewel said, her voice low and flirty, "handsome super hero like you, you got a girlfriend?" Your eyes snapped up, watching him, sure he was going to look to you, make eye contact. Something to acknowledge what was between you, that would make you feel like you were still in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet, as him. But he didn't.

Bucky grinned, running a hand through his hair.

"Nah, no girlfriend," he said, glancing over at Jewel. "But I'm definitely open to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that hurt less than hearing the words that came out of Bucky's mouth, and you had to resist the urge to get up and leave the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere in your corner of the table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Maybe the two of you hadn't been as secretive as you'd thought.

You couldn't bring yourself to even look at Bucky anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jewel's and not yours. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but all you could hear were your own thoughts. How could he be so callous as to openly flirt with someone else in front of you? Had you meant nothing to him?

You took a deep breath, trying to steel yourself against the pain that was slowly building inside of you. You knew that the two of you were never anything official, but you had thought that there was something there between you.

As the dinner continued, you couldn't shake the misery that had settled in your chest. You excused yourself with no explanation, abruptly getting up from the table, and made your way back to your room. Once you were alone, you let out a shaky breath, tears streaming down your face.

How could you have been so stupid? You had let yourself believe that there could be something real between you and Bucky, but clearly, you had been wrong. He was interested in Jewel and you were just a convenient friend. Being kept in a holding pattern until something better came along.

You collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow as sobs wracked your body. How could you even face him now, knowing that he had no real interest in you beyond your friendship, after all the things you had done together? You didn't know if you could bear being in the same room with him, pretending like everything was okay between the two of you.

As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, you barely registered the sound of your phone buzzing from your bedside table. Picking it up, you saw you had a new message from Nat.

Do you want me to kill them?

You wiped away your tears, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to offer such a straightforward solution. Despite your heartache, you couldn't help but appreciate her loyalty and fierce protectiveness.

You typed back:

No, as tempting as it might be. Thank you for offering, but I don't want you sent away for double homicide.

Her response was almost instantaneous:

I'm insulted you assume I'd get caught :)

The smiley face at the end was too much, and you actually laughed. You were so grateful to have her as your friend.

Thanks for having my back, Natty.

Any and every time, Pocket. You know that <3

Other texts started trickling in from the rest of your family. Everyone checking in to make sure you were okay, since you had left the table so suddenly and without giving a reason.

But none came from Bucky.

Your suite suddenly felt too small and hot-- you needed to get out, go somewhere that wasn't covered in memories of Bucky so that you could breathe. There was only one thing you did that always helped clear your head. You needed to go dancing.

You changed your clothes for the third time today, opting for a pair of skintight, red leather pants and a black halter top. You did your hair and put on some makeup-- just enough to mask that you'd been crying, but still enough to turn a man's head.

Shoving your phone, ID, and credit card into your back pocket, you left your room and headed back to the common room. You could have just texted Nat to ask her if she wanted to come with you, but you wanted to see Bucky's reaction to how you looked, if he even had one at all.

You were surprised to find the common room far emptier than you'd left it a little over an hour ago. It seemed as though, once dinner had ended, the gathering had broken up and people had started going their own way. Glancing around, you saw Nat standing by a window, looking out over the Manhattan skyline, but Bucky and Jewel were nowhere to be seen. You tried to ignore the rock that had taken up residence in your stomach.

"Natty," you called, getting her attention. She met you halfway across the room, a large grin spread across her face.

"Damn, girl," she let out a low whistle as she assessed your outfit. "You trying to give Barnes a heart attack?" she asked.

"No," you said, "I want to go dancing. I need to get out of my head. You want to come?"

"Absolutely, if only to keep you from making any decisions you might regret in the morning." She paused, assessing you. "He's walking her out, by the way. In case you were wondering where they were."

You had, but your stomach soured at the knowledge, all the same.

Down in the lobby, you were just about to call an Uber for you and Nat when you spotted Bucky standing off to the side with Jewel. They were standing far too close together for your liking. You hoped you could sneak by without attracting their attention, but Jewel caught sight of the two of you and began waving you over.

"Natasha!" she called (okay, so maybe she wasn't waving you over). "Come join us!"

Nat gave you a questioning look, silently asking what you wanted to do.

"Might as well," you muttered. "Night's already gone mostly to hell."

You and Nat made your way over to where Jewel and Bucky were standing.

"Did you come to say goodbye?" Jewel asked Nat, the eagerness in her voice palpable.

"Uh, no," Nat replied, obviously confused. "Pocket and I are heading out. We're going dancing."

"Oh. My. God." Jewel practically started jumping up and down. "Bucky, we should go dancing with her!" It wasn't lost on either you or Natasha that Jewel seemed to be purposefully excluding you from the conversation. Bucky, unsurprisingly, didn't seem to notice.

"Sorry," you said, suddenly struck with inspiration, "but the car's only a two-seater. Maybe next time."

Nat raised a questioning eyebrow at you as you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed the Tower's garage. "Hey, Carl, it's Pocket.... Good, thanks... you?... Listen, can you have someone bring my Sergio to the front entrance? I'll be taking it out tonight... I know ... Great... thanks!" You ended the call and looked to Nat. "They'll bring the car up in just a minute."

Nat couldn't hide the grin that had spread across her face. "Finally! I have been dying to get my ass into that car forever!

"What's a Sergio?" Jewel asked. "I've never heard of it before."

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Nat said, giving Jewel a tight, fake smile. "Seeing as how Ferrari only ever made six of them."

"Pocket," Bucky said, the first words he'd spoken to you since you and Nat had arrived, "can I talk to you for a minute?" He took your arm and led you away from Nat and Jewel to a more secluded section of the lobby.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low and with a hint of warning behind it.

"Going dancing with Nat," you said simply.

"Come on, you never drive that car. You're too scared of damaging it. So, how come the first time you decide to take it for a spin is right in front of Jewel?"

"What are you insinuating, Bucky?" you asked defensively. He looked at you as though you were a child lying about who broke Grandma's favorite vase.

"You're pissed about the intern comment, so you want to flaunt how much money you make. That's really not like you, Pocket. I'm disappointed."

You were physically taken aback by his words. "You honestly think I'd do something like that?" you asked, incredibly offended he could think such a thing of you.

"I didn't think so, but..." he let the rest of the statement hang in the air.

"I called for the fucking car because I didn't want her just inviting herself to join Nat and me," you snapped. "It has absolutely nothing to do with showing off how much money I have."

Bucky ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "God, Pocket, would it kill you to be nice to her for just a minute? I don't understand why you have it out for her so badly."

"That girl has been nothing but nasty to me all day," you said through gritted teeth. "And if you haven't noticed that by now, nothing I say is going to make you see it." God, you were so disappointed in him. The hurt and betrayal you'd felt earlier had subsided and now you just felt... sad. Deflated. "I don't want to argue with you, Buck. Especially not about her. So, can we just agree to disagree on this, and Nat and I can be on our way? I'm sure you have more important things you'd rather be doing than giving me the third degree, anyway."

He crossed his arms, giving you a hard stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tilting your head, you pursed your lips and gave him a look. "Really? Everyone noticed it, Bucky. Everyone."

"Pocket!" Nat called out to you, preventing Bucky from responding to your insinuation. "Car's here!"

With a heavy sigh, you began to make your way to the front doors. "See you later, Barnes," you called over your shoulder. You were more than ready to get out of there and lose yourself in the music.

*

Hours later, you were coated in a sheen of sweat from dancing and completely and utterly shitfaced. You hadn't intended to get drunk, let alone this drunk, but once the alcohol started numbing your feelings, all you wanted to do was drown your emotions in it. Now, you were sitting in a booth in the club, head pressed against the wall, fighting to keep your eyes open. Nat had taken your phone and was talking to someone.

"Hey, it's Natasha. Can you do me a solid and meet up with us? ... Pocket's plastered and I don't know how to drive stick. ... It means I can't get her car home. ... She already shares her location with you, right? So just take an Uber. ... You can drive her back to the Tower and I'll take the Uber home. ... Did you forget how she dragged your ass home when you were drunk on Thor's Asgardian shit? ... I'd say you owe her. ... Text her phone when you get here; I'm holding onto it. ... Good, see you in a bit." She hung up and bent down so she was at eye level with you.

"Sweetie," she said gently, "don't be mad at me, but I called Bucky to come get you and bring your car home."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. "Bucky? Ew. I'm mad at him. He sucks."

"I know, honey, but he's the only other person I know who can drive stick who's awake at this hour, and your car's too expensive to leave in valet parking overnight." She brushed your hair away from your face as you turned to look at her.

"What's wrong with me, Natty?" you asked her, your emotions fighting their way back up through the haze of the alcohol.

"Nothing, Pocket. Honey, nothing's wrong with you. Why would you ask me that?" Nat's voice was full of concern.

"Why doesn't he love me, then? Why am I good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love?" The last of the words came out in a choked sob.

Nat wrapped her arms around you, rubbing her hands up and down your back in a soothing pattern. "You'd have to ask him that, sweetie. I can't answer it for him."

"It's 'cause I'm just a gross, used up whore," you told her. "'s all I've ever been good for-- sticking dicks in. Nothing else."

Nat held you at arm's length so she could look you in the eye. "Pocket, stop. That's Darren talking, not you, honey. You know that's not true."

"Then why doesn't he want me?" you hiccuped. "Fuck, Natty. 'm so in love with him, it hurts." There. You finally admitted it, not just to Nat, but to yourself. You were in love with your best friend, and you had been for a while now. You'd been too afraid to acknowledge it, to open yourself up to the idea that maybe you could have a real relationship with him, and now it was too late. He'd found someone else, and you'd missed any chance you might have had.

"I know, sweetheart," she said, embracing you again. "Everyone knew and, for what it's worth, we were all sure he felt the same way."

"He doesn't, though," you sniveled into her shoulder. "And why'd it have to be her? Natty, she's so awful. He could have anyone he wanted, why did he have to pick her?"

Natasha sighed. "Because he's a guy, and he thinks with his dick," she told you. "And since dicks don't have eyes, it makes it hard for men to see what someone like Jewel's really like. Especially when Jewel doesn't want them to."

You snorted, imagining Bucky's dick with googly eyes attached to it. "His dick was the best, Nat," you bemoaned. "I'm going to miss it so much. So many times, when we were finished, I couldn't even walk after."

It was Nat's turn to snort. "That does sound like some good dick, Pocket," she admitted.

"And his tongue," you sighed. "'s so long, you wouldn't believe--"

"Okay, Pocket, I think that's enough sharing, don't you?" You pouted but didn't say anything else.

Your phone buzzed then, and you looked all around for it before you watched Nat pull it from her pocket and look at the text you'd just received."

"Alright, Magic Dick's here," she said, taking your hands in hers and hoisting you up. "Up you go."

With her help, you stumbled out of the club, only tripping over your own feet twice, which you thought was fairly impressive, given the circumstances.

Outside, Bucky was waiting for you, a stony expression on his beautiful face. God, he looked so handsome. "Magic Dick," you whispered to Nat, then burst into a fit of drunken giggles that had you tripping over yourself all over again.

Bucky was immediately at your side, taking your weight off of Nat and putting it on him.

"Well, hey there, Magic Dick," you giggled. Bucky shot Nat a look over your head.

"How much has she had to drink?" he asked her.

Nat handed the valet the claim ticket for your car. "More than she should have, that's for sure."

While you waited for the valet to bring your Sergio around, Nat leaned down to look at you. "I'm going to get in the Uber now, Pocket. Bucky's gonna take you home, alright?"

You nodded and reached out to drunkenly stroke her face. "Okay, Natty-Nat. Love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart." She kissed your forehead and headed for the waiting Uber. Before she got in, she turned to Bucky. "Don't give her any shit tonight, okay?" she ordered before closing the door, leaving you and Bucky to wait for the car alone.

"What's going on with you tonight, Pocket?" he asked. "You haven't been acting like yourself." The car pulled up and the valet held the door open for Bucky as he slid you into the passenger seat.

"Just wanted to dance," you murmured, tilting your head sideways to look at him as he fastened your seat belt. "Makes me feel better. And then there was alcohol. Oops."

Bucky let out a sigh as he closed the passenger door and made his way around to the driver's side. He had a point; you seldom got drunk. It reminded you too much of your mother, so you only ever let yourself get a little buzzed. But tonight was a special occasion.

Bucky pulled out of the lot and onto the street. Even at the late hour, New York was still alive with activity. You leaned your head on the windowsill and watched the lights as they passed by.

"You're supposed to be on my side, you know." The words were a whisper, and you'd spoken them into the night. If he had been anyone else, he wouldn't have heard you.

But he wasn't anyone else. He was Bucky. "I am on your side, Pocket. Always."

Though it felt incredibly heavy, you turned your head to face him. He looked so beautiful driving your convertible, the lights of the city reflecting off the lines of his face, the warm night breeze tickling his hair.

"You weren't tonight." Your voice was small, reflecting every bit of the self-doubt you'd felt over the course of the evening, every ounce of the pain.

Bucky sighed, his flesh hand gripping the steering wheel of the Sergio so tightly his knuckles were white. "I don't know what you want from me, Pocket."

You let out an exhausted sigh, the beautiful drunken haze fading from your system and leaving an ache in its wake. You're stomach growled and you remembered you hadn't eaten much dinner. "Can we get something to eat," you asked him, "and go somewhere to talk?" He nodded and changed course, heading away from the Tower.

A few minutes later, he pulled the Sergio into the well-lit parking lot of a 24-hour diner. Like lightning, he was out of the car and coming around to open your door before you'd even finished fumbling with your seat belt. He reached his flesh hand down to help you step out of the car, and to your surprise, didn't let go, hold your hand as you walked into diner together. Most likely making sure you didn't drunkenly fall on your ass and embarrass him, you thought.

Inside, the perky blonde hostess gave Bucky a long, appraising look while he asked for a table in the back. Even at this time of night, the diner was bustling with patrons. The sound of chatter and clinking cutlery filled the air, competing with the soft buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. Waitstaff hurriedly made their rounds, taking orders and carrying plates with a clatter of dishes.

When you reached the back, you slid into the booth the hostess directed you to, and instead of sitting across from you, Bucky slid in next to you. The hostess handed you your menus before casting a final, lingering glance at Bucky and walked off, leaving you alone with the super soldier and not sure what exactly you were going to say to him.

You unwrapped your silverware and began playing absentmindedly with the band that had been holding your napkin in place. You could feel Bucky's eyes on you, but you didn't turn to meet his gaze until you felt the fingers of his metal hand gently reach over and brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"You wanted to talk, doll," he said, softly, "so let's talk."

You bit your lip and turned to meet his eyes, the blue of them so soft and gentle as he looked at you. "I'm not saying this to attack you, Buck," you began, gathering your thoughts, "or to try and make you feel bad, but you really made me feel like shit tonight."

He swallowed thickly, but before he could answer you, your waitress approached the booth to take your order. You ordered a chicken Caesar wrap and a glass of chocolate milk for yourself; Bucky ordered a coffee and a large basket of waffle fries.

Once the waitress had left, Bucky turned back to you, taking your hand in his metal one and lacing your fingers together. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you," he told you. He brought your hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on your knuckle. "I'm sorry. I was a dick tonight. Finding out that Jewel has the same kind of abilities as I do... it made me feel less alone, like maybe I'm not just a fucked up science experiment that went horribly wrong."

"Buck..." you began, but he continued talking.

"It doesn't excuse how I treated you tonight, but I was so eager to get to know to her, to see how she copes with it. I've only ever had Steve to talk to about it, and Steve's... well..."

"Steve's fucking Captain America," you provided, understanding now where Bucky was coming from. "The perpetual boy scout. You don't want to open up to him about the darker stuff, because you're afraid it will change how he sees you."

Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. "He's already done so much to save me from the worst parts of myself; I don't want to burden him with any more than I already have."

You cupped his jaw with your hand. "Steve loves you, Buck. He will never see you as a burden. I promise you that."

He smiled at you, but it was sad. "I already cost him so much. More than you realize, Pocket. It just felt like, with Jewel, maybe I could have someone else to discuss those parts of myself with, someone I wasn't afraid of letting down."

Your first instinct was to be hurt that he felt he couldn't share those parts of himself with you, but you realized why he wasn't able to.

As if reading your thoughts, he said: "Please don't think it means that I want to share things with her instead of you, though. That will never be the case."

"But there are things that I'll just never be able to fully understand," you supplied, "because I'm not a super soldier. I understand."

He nodded, leaning his head down until his forehead was pressed against yours. "But I don't need to be friends with her," he said. "You said she was horrible to you, and I believe you. That's not the kind of person I want in my life. You're the most important thing in the world to me. I need you to know that."

You would have sworn you felt your heart momentarily stop. More important to him than Steve? Your cheeks grew warm at the implication.

"Bucky, I never want to be the kind of person who tells you who you can or can't be friends with. If talking to her helps you process whatever you need to process, then please, do it." You nuzzled your nose against his. "Just, you know, never flirt with her in front of me again."

He pulled his head back and looked at you, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "Doll, are you telling me you're jealous?" You made a scoffing sound and playfully pushed him away from you. You were treading dangerously close to feelings territory, and you'd only just gotten back to a good place with him; you weren't about to risk it, but you weren't going to lie to him, either.

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer until your lips were pressed against the shell of his ear. "You know I've never been a good girl when it comes to sharing, Bucky," you breathed before taking his earlobe into your mouth and sucking on it.

Bucky let out a low groan and shot his metal hand over to possessively grasp your upper thigh, sending a shiver through you. "Be careful, doll," he growled in the way that had you clenching your legs together, "otherwise I'm liable to bend you over this table and fuck you so hard, you won't remember your own name."

You pulled away from him. "Promises, promises," you teased.

Before Bucky could follow through on his threat, the waitress returned with your orders. Without thinking, you handed Bucky half of your wrap at the same time he deposited a generous handful of waffle fries onto your plate. Catching your eye, he gave you an amused grin, and you both burst into laughter. The tension between you two seemed to dissipate, replaced by the comfortable banter you were used to.

The conversation throughout the meal was light, ranging from random anecdotes to plans for the next day. Occasionally, Bucky would say something that made you giggle uncontrollably, causing a few patrons to give you curious glances. But he just flashed them his charming smile, making most of them blush and turn away.

After finishing your meals, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched the diner's activity. His arm automatically wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his side. You could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest, a soothing rhythm that made your eyes droop sleepily.

"You alright there?" Bucky asked softly, noticing your languidness. You hummed in response, too comfortable to move or open your eyes properly.

"Gettin' sleepy," you admitted as you tried to stifle a yawn. "'s been a long night."

"Then let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, princess." Bucky helped you out of the booth, then tucked you into his side so you could lean against him as you walked toward the counter to pay your bill. You tried to hand Bucky your Amex card, but he shooed your hand away. "I got it, doll. Least I can do after everything I put you through tonight."

You didn't argue with him, not because you didn't have the energy to, but because you knew it was his way of making amends. He settled the bill quickly, leaving a generous tip, then led you back out of the diner into the cool night air. You leaned against his sturdy form as he walked you both back to the Sergio, opening the door for you and helping you with your seat belt, despite your protests.

"I'm not that drunk anymore, Buck," you laughed as he leaned over you to click the belt into place.

"Damn it, woman, be quiet and let me take care of you!" He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side.

Though the drive to the Tower wasn't very long, you quickly found yourself lulled into a comfortable stupor, your mind at peace for the first time in what what felt like weeks. You barely registered when Bucky pulled into the Tower's underground garage, or stopped to give the Sergio's keys to the night parking attendant. You were vaguely aware of him picking you up and cradling you in his arms as he carried you back to his room.

Once inside, he carefully helped you strip out of your pants and halter top and into one of his shirts. Once you'd changed, he tucked you both into his bed, curling his body against yours until you didn't know where his body ended and yours began.

"Better?" he asked, softness threading his voice. You hummed in response, half asleep as your body molded into his welcoming warmth.

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, "Sweet dreams, doll," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he adjusted the sheets around you both. His metal arm wound under your pillow comfortably while the other rested on your waist, giving you a sense of protection that no fortress could offer.

You curled closer into him, snuggling into his broad chest like a kitten seeking warmth. His steady heartbeat and slow breathing became your lullaby, luring you closer to sleep with every second.

He stroked your hair gently as you fell off into sleep, whispering words of affection and apology into the quietness of the night.

[sjsmith56]

Reprieve - A Private Man, Chapter 13

Summary: Ross and his associates make another attempt to take Bucky but Rebecca’s phone call pays off as he is stopped. The resurrection of the Avengers is brought up but Bucky’s reaction confuses everyone.

Length: 4.2 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Rebecca, Thaddeus Ross, Rhodey, Sam, Joaquin, Janice.

Warnings: Thaddeus Ross, Bucky’s self doubt.

Author’s notes: I know that you’re thinking “Again? Ross is trying again?” The man is persistent and single minded. This isn’t the end but he does back off for a while. I originally wrote this story before the Thunderbolts announcement came out with the news that Thaddeus Ross would be President in the next Captain America movie. I had a choice to change my story to fit that announcement or to continue with my plot and story line. I chose the latter. Thaddeus Ross will never be President in this story.

<<Chapter 12

Bucky wasn't sure if he should go to work the next day, being unwilling to leave the women without protection but Rebecca, who was sitting in the kitchen when he got up told him that the police were just a phone call away, as were Matt and Foggy. With several of the neighbours around as well she convinced Bucky that it would be alright. Reluctantly he went to work as soon as Samira arrived. It never even occurred to him until he was en route to work that Rebecca got up unassisted by herself. When he arrived at the dock he clocked in and went to the office he shared with the other supervisors. His boss, Rick, was in there.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked. "Saw that shit go down on TV yesterday. What's that Ross's complaint with you?"

Bucky scowled and let out a breath. "He wants me to be an assassin again. He's starting up a black ops version of the Avengers and wants me in it. I won't do it and he's threatened me, my sister and my girlfriend over it."

"Jesus, Bucky," he said, looking past him at all the others. "You need a lawyer or something?"

"No, I have a good one but thanks," said Bucky. "I just want to do my job, and get through the day." He looked at everyone. "I appreciate the concern but really, I just want to do my job."

"Okay," said Rick, with understanding. "You're a good man and I don't want you to think we don't appreciate you. We'll back you up if you need it. But today, it's work as usual."

He used the opportunity to go over the ships still in dock, waiting for loading to be completed, and ships that were expected to dock that day. After he left, Bucky and the other supervisors went over the assignments then broke to meet up with their crews. When lunch time came he stayed at his desk after one of the other supervisors agreed to bring back some lunch for him. For a time he looked at his phone then finally dialled Tracey. She answered on the third ring.

"Hi," he said. "How's it going? Has Ross or Fontaine showed up at the house?"

"No, but Mom and I had to go to court for the protection order," she replied. "It's been granted and a police car will escort Mom and me at any moment to go to the house. I arranged for a truck rental. Amina's husband and brother-in- law will meet us there with it and help Mom take out what she wants. We'll put everything into a storage locker until she gets herself settled. How are you?"

"I didn't want to leave but Rebecca got up early and told me to go to work," he said. "She got up by herself. I didn't even think of that until I was on my way here. She can be very persuasive. I just have a feeling that Ross is going to try again and it's going to be hard not to react to it."

"I know, I feel the same," replied Tracey. "Hey, I have to go. The police are here. I'll see you later. It'll be alright, Bucky. I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied.

He ate his lunch while doing paperwork then headed back out to the dock to make sure that everything was going the way it should. All throughout the afternoon he couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehensive anticipation that something was going to happen and he just hoped it wouldn't be where people would be put into danger. When quitting time came around he clocked out and began the walk to the house. He wasn't aware of being followed or monitored but he still couldn't shake the sense that something was going to happen.

When he arrived back home there was a window repair truck parked in front of the house. Bucky went into the side yard and saw a man fixing the window.

"Hi, are you Tom's son's friend?" he asked.

The man looked at him, puzzled. "No, I don't know who Tom is," he said, then he pulled a work order out of his back pocket. "I received a pre-paid work order to fix a basement window for a James Barnes. Your wife showed me the window. Someone tried to break in? They did a real number on the frame but I'll have it finished in about 10 minutes. When it's done I'll knock on the door and you can sign off on it."

Confused, Bucky went into the house where Tracey, Rebecca, and Janice were all sitting in the living room.

"Who sent the window repair guy?" he asked. Tracey shrugged but Rebecca and Janice smiled at each other. "What are you two grinning about?"

"It's a surprise," said Rebecca. "I phoned someone in the government yesterday, and made an official complaint about Thaddeus Ross and Val de Fontaine. They said they would look into it. The repairman showed up about an hour ago."

"Rebecca, who did you phone?" asked Bucky, feeling uneasy.

"I'll tell you soon," she said. "Don't worry, we're not in trouble."

The repairman knocked on the door and both Bucky and Tracey went out to look at the replaced window. He offered the work order for Bucky to sign off and packed up his toolkit, leaving the yard. As the couple prepared to go back inside there was the sound of a commotion from the front yard. Frowning at Tracey, Bucky walked along the side of the house to the front. Ross was back with several of his men. A number of the neighbours were standing in a line blocking him from entering the yard. Tracey phoned the police while Bucky approached the group.

"Already breaking the injunction?" asked Bucky. "For a man with your standing you sure do like to play loose with the law. Your guys wrecked lights I had strung up in the back yard so I guess vandalism isn't beyond you either."

"The injunction is already quashed," said Ross. "I'm here on official government business."

"Official government business for a black ops operation?" replied Bucky. "I doubt that very much."

"Doesn't matter, Barnes," retorted Ross. "This time you're coming with me."

There was the sound of several flying suits approaching and Bucky looked up to see Sam, Joaquin Torres and Colonel Rhodes descending from above. They landed just behind Bucky where Rhodes opened his face plate and strode forward, putting himself between Bucky and Ross.

"Sorry Thaddeus," he said. "I have my orders from the President himself. Your little act yesterday has put him in a very bad light. The media are all over how you're forcing a man into being a killer against his will. An official complaint over your behaviour and a threat made by Val de Fontaine has the President ordering you to stand down immediately and await the FBI to escort you to Washington."

Ross smirked. "I'm supposed to believe that?" he said. "That's rich coming from a retired paraplegic Air Force Colonel."

"No longer retired, and you've been relieved of any sort of legitimacy that you talked the President into granting you," replied Rhodes. "Fontaine is on very thin ice and so is the current Secretary of State for coming up with this plan. The FBI are on their way to take you into custody."

Right on cue several large black SUVs drove onto the street, followed by another news crew. The agent who took Bucky into custody previously stepped out of a vehicle and directed the other agents to take Ross's men then he approached the older man and showed him his badge.

"Agent Michael Quade. Mr. Ross, you are to come with me," he said solemnly. "The President has ordered that you be taken into custody, pending charges."

"What charges?" demanded Ross. "I haven't done anything."

The agent sighed. "I'm only following orders, sir," he said. "I think what charges are filed depends on your actions now and in the near future. I will personally escort you to Washington for a meeting with the President to explain your actions." He turned to Bucky. "Has Mr. Ross and his associates injured you, your family, or your property?"

"They broke a window and the frame plus they cut the wires of lights I had strung up in the trees in the back yard," replied Bucky. "He also threatened to get my sister's health benefits cut off permanently, as well as deny me back pay for the years I was a POW. The window repairman just left but I don't know who sent him."

"They destroyed the lights?" asked Sam, disgusted. "What the hell for?"

The agent put his hand up. "So trespassing, property damage, and a violation of your sister's and your civil rights. Do I have that right, Mr. Barnes?"

"That's correct," said Bucky, looking Ross in the eye. "His associate Val de Fontaine also threatened my girlfriend's mother yesterday. Ross also threatened to take my house. He was just arrested yesterday for some of those actions and he's already back. Isn't that harassment?"

"Yes sir, it is," said the FBI agent, who shook his head. "I think the federal prosecutor might also consider your original arrest as harassment or perhaps the swearing out of false charges but that will be up to him. I will make a note of Ms. Fontaine's threats as she is a known associate. From where I stand Mr. Ross, you are just digging a deeper hole for yourself by refusing to come with me."

Ross sneered. "This isn't over Barnes," he said. "I will have you on my team and you will do as I order."

"No, I won't," replied Bucky. "Now go with the nice FBI agent."

The older man turned around angrily and went with the Agent Quade to the cheers and jeers of Bucky's neighbours. The reporter came up to Bucky again.

"Busy couple of days," he said. "What would you like to say?"

Looking with affection at Sam, Joaquin and Rhodes, then at his neighbours he cleared his throat. "I say thanks to my friends here and my neighbours for having my back. We should have a barbecue to celebrate."

With another cheer several of the neighbours went to get food and beer while Bucky went into the house followed by Rhodes, Sam and Joaquin, who all shed their suits inside. Bucky introduced everyone to the others who hadn't yet met. Joaquin gave Rebecca a hug and a kiss as it had been a while since they last saw each other.

"So how did you know what was happening?" asked Bucky. "I mean, Colonel you're in Washington, Sam was supposed to be in New Orleans and I don't know where you were Joaquin. How did you get here so soon after Ross was released?"

"That business yesterday ended up live on Washington TV and the President watched it," said Rhodes. "He was then phoned by a certain senior citizen who impressed upon him the potential miscarriage of justice that was certain to happen under his watch. He was horrified at Ross for trying to force you onto his team, and trying to force you to kill again. He called Fontaine to ask what gave her the right to threaten the mother of your girlfriend. She gave up the Secretary of State when she admitted they both gave Ross the green light to get you any way he could. I told him about the Wakanda plan that your lawyer phoned me about, and he hit the roof that they would even consider violating the sovereignty of a country considered an ally. Told me to come here and intervene. We phoned the police station, found out they made bail earlier and it didn't take much to figure out he would try again. Ross never did know when to stand down. I called Cap and Falcon, Wong gave us each a portal and we met up over Manhattan." He looked at Rebecca with a smile. "You're trouble, in a good way. How did you ever get them to connect you with the President?"

"I just told the truth," said Rebecca. "Told them who I was and that I wasn't going to sit back and watch Ross force my brother into being a killer against his will. I said the President was the one who pardoned him and that made him responsible for cleaning up this mess."

Rhodes looked with admiration at the older woman. "You did good. He wasn't aware of a lot of what they were up to. I brought up about Buck's pardon being conditional and how Ross was manipulating it to present Buck as still violent. It's being updated to a full pardon. No one and nothing can change that ever."

Bucky looked at his younger sister with disbelief. "You phoned the President?"

She and Janice laughed. "You were so upset yesterday when you saw they had vandalized the lights that I had to try something. I looked up the phone number of the White House and I wouldn't take no for an answer. They finally put me through to the President and I told him everything that happened. He wasn't very happy about what Ross and Fontaine had done and promised he would take care of things."

The doorbell rang with the first of the neighbours to bring food and Bucky went with him to the back yard to start up the barbecue. Within an hour the back yard was full of people from the neighbourhood, eating, drinking, and getting to know everyone else. When a delivery man showed up with new fairy lights courtesy of the President several neighbours got up to help replace the damaged ones. The lights came on as it got darker which drew admiring looks from the neighbours who talked about doing it in their own yards. Gradually as the night went on people began to leave promising to be better neighbours to Bucky, Tracey, and Rebecca. They shook hands with everyone before they left. Finally, it was just them, Janice, Rhodes, Sam, and Joaquin.

"Is there a hotel nearby?" asked Rhodes. "I don't fancy flying in the dark after what I've had to drink."

"I have a couch in the living room and a couch in the basement," said Bucky. "Janice is using the bed. They're yours if you're all okay with one of you sleeping on the floor. I'll make everyone breakfast in the morning."

"Janice can sleep with me if she doesn't mind sharing a bed with an old woman," piped up Rebecca. "I don't snore."

"Yeah, I'm good with that," replied Janice. "We can just switch out the sheets on the bed."

"I call shotgun on the bed, then," said Rhodes, with a grin.

Bucky carried Rebecca into her bedroom then left her in the care of Tracey while he got bedding and pillows for the two couches while Janice made up the bed downstairs. He could hear her and Rhodes talking and laughing as they made the bed together. There was definitely some flirting going on. She came upstairs with her night clothes and a change of clothes for the following day.

"What a nice man Rhodey is," she said, looking vibrant. "He must be a good friend to you, Bucky. He thinks very highly of you."

"He is a good man," replied Bucky. "He's been very supportive the last few months."

After kissing Rebecca good night he and Tracey left Janice in her bedroom and went out to the living room where Sam was wearing a pair of Bucky's sweat pants and a T-shirt.

"Quite the day," said his partner. "You have good neighbours. I saw several of them talking with the news crew and they all said your presence in the neighbourhood makes them feel safer, especially since that robbery."

Bucky smirked. "Only took a year to get to know them," he replied. "I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for Tracey and Rebecca. They make me a better man."

"You're one of the good ones," stated Tracey, grasping his hand. "I knew that as soon as I met you. Sam, thanks for coming with the others to back him up. It means a lot."

"Anytime," smiled Sam. "Now, if you don't mind I'm going to stretch out on my luxurious 4 star couch and catch some shuteye."

After saying goodnight to him they went to their room and cuddled together. Both were tired after the stress and then long evening entertaining. Just before he fell asleep Bucky thought of something that Rhodes said, that he wasn't retired anymore. Whatever did he mean by that?

The following morning Bucky was up at his usual time. After heading out to the mailbox and noticing no discarded cigarette butts he returned into the house and started the coffee. Sam woke up shortly after and Bucky offered him a cup. They both sipped from their coffee then Bucky looked at Sam.

"What did Rhodes mean that he isn't retired any more?" he asked.

"Did he? I didn't notice. Maybe he's been named to be an advisor to the President or something. Come to think of it he seemed to really enjoy what happened to Ross yesterday."

As the others started getting up Bucky phoned the docks to say he would be in later. The dock manager, Rick, was already in and told Bucky he watched the previous day's events on the news. Whatever time Bucky needed to do what he needed to do was fine with him, his exact words. With thanks Bucky hung up and began making breakfast for everyone. When everything was ready he put the food out on the kitchen counter and everyone helped themselves before sitting at the dining room table. For several minutes there was no talking then Bucky finished chewing and looked at Rhodes.

"What did you mean that you're not retired anymore?" he asked.

"Yeah, what's with that?" asked Sam. "They giving you a position on the Joint Chiefs or something?"

"No, the President put me in command of something else." Rhodey paused, smiling. "He wants me to head up resurrecting the Avengers, pending amendments to the Sokovia Accords. I told him I wouldn't consider it unless the Accords are fixed. Ross deliberately made them too restrictive to allow the Avengers to do the job properly. It looks like he wanted them to fold years ago so he could get control of us as his assets. We'll talk more but there's a place for all three of you, if you want it."

"I can't," said Bucky, quickly and quietly. "My place is here, with Rebecca and Tracey."

"Nonsense," said Rebecca. "I'm much better and I have the personal care aides. With Tracey living here we can make it work."

"But you need to have someone here at night with you," replied Bucky. "I can't ask Tracey to assume that responsibility if I'm not here. It wouldn't be fair to her."

Tracey started to speak and Bucky abruptly left the table, heading out to the back yard. Rhodes looked distressed.

"Listen, it's all in a preliminary stage of planning," he said. "It would be months before we even made anything official and that's only if the Accords are modified. I thought he would be happy about this."

"It's what he once wanted," said Tracey, quietly, watching the back door. "But he accepted that it wasn't going to happen and when Rebecca had her stroke it made the decision to stay and work a regular job easier for him. I think he likes living a private life now. He feels normal, likes his job, he has good benefits with it, and he's part of the community with his volunteer work at the newcomer centre. Now, it's like you're asking him to give that up for a job that would be irregular at best. It would take him away from Rebecca."

"And you," said Joaquin, deliberately. "He's very much in love with you. Even I can see it."

"I wouldn't hold him back," protested Tracey, then she looked again at the back door and stood up.

Putting her jacket on and taking Bucky's with her she went out to the back yard. Bucky was sitting on one of the chairs under the pergola. She approached him in the crisp morning air, putting his jacket over his shoulders. He took one of her hands and kissed it then sat back. Tracey sat on his lap.

"You wouldn't have to ask," she said softly. "I've already committed to you and Rebecca is part of that commitment by my choice. Rhodes said it would be months before they got anything off the ground."

"I know," replied Bucky. "I just don't know if I want to do it anymore. I like working at the docks. I like living in this house with you and Rebecca. I like my life here. It's normal."

"That's important to you," she replied. "I get that. Do you remember when we first met? I asked you about the Avengers, why they weren't together. You said the decision about them was someone else's responsibility. You admitted you were good at doing what the Avengers do but that was as far as you would go, as if you had reservations about doing that. Rebecca thought being an Avenger would give you a higher purpose."

Bucky smirked lightly. "Fighting the Flag Smashers came easily enough. I tried to tell Karli, the young woman who was their leader, that she was going down a dark path but she wouldn't listen to me, even though I had been on that same path. What kind of Avenger would I be if people didn't take me seriously enough to learn from my experiences? I was the Winter Soldier, a killer who always got his target. Maybe that's how they'll always see me. That's how Ross and Fontaine still see me."

She drew his head into her chest, feeling his gloom. "I think if you became an Avenger you would have more control over how you're seen," she said. "What was it the Wakandans called you? White Wolf? You could make that your code name. On your downtime you could still live here, maybe even continue to work at the docks, definitely volunteer at the newcomer centre. Imagine the kids there, seeing you walk in, knowing that you had helped rescue hostages, or helped take down a terrorist group. You could be their local hero, even more than you already are."

"What about us?" he asked. "You wouldn't want a part-time boyfriend, or husband. Not after how your ex treated you when he went on the road."

"You're not Geoff," stated Tracey emphatically. "You're so much more. Yes, I would miss you but I trust you and think our reunions would be incredible. I have my job and it fulfills me. Don't make me the reason you decide not to do this. Be involved in the planning and see what the government is willing to do. If it's better than what the docks give you then seriously consider it. If it's not, then continue to live a normal life, just like all the rest of us."

Her hands had been stroking his back and shoulders while she was talking and she could feel his demeanour change from very tense to more relaxed. When she finished her piece Bucky sighed then wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You're very persuasive Nurse Harris," he murmured. "I'll consider it, put my two cents worth in and see where it goes from there. Regardless of how it goes with the Avengers there's something that I want to ask you."

"What's that?"

"Would you marry me?

He looked up at her, his blue eyes fixed on hers. She looked upon his upturned face, at his strong jaw and cheekbones, his ever present five o'clock shadow, and his soft lips which were slightly parted as he waited on her answer.

"Yes, in a New York minute I would marry you," she answered.

Forever more she would remember his soft loving look at hearing her answer. It would always be recalled by her as the moment she completely committed to the first man she ever truly loved. Bucky would always remember the sun lighting up her hair and the beautiful smile she had on her face when she said those words. It was the day he finally and completely felt like a good man.

Chapter 14>>

Series Masterlist

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[slayerchick303]

*SECRET INVASION FINALE SPOILERS*

I just finished Home, and I have some thoughts:

Rhodey was in a hospital gown when he got out of the pod! I swear to all that is holy, if they have him been replaced by a skrull after his injury in Civil War, I will march on Disney headquarters! That would cheapen Tony's death, funeral, and Rhodey's amazing conversation with Sam in Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I said I'd freak out if they made the swap previous to FATWS, and I meant it!

Gravik's human face was a man he killed, so I'm assuming the same is true for G'iah. If she is indeed going to be Abigail Brand as leaks have suggested (meaning Abigail Brand is dead), I'm going to be mad! Like legitimately disappointed. Brand is one of my favorite parts of the Astonishing X-Men comics run. I ship her and Beast so hard.

When was Everett Ross swapped? It has to have been after Black Panther because he would've reverted to his skrull form after being shot and/or Shuri would've noticed while healing him. Has a skrull infiltrated Wakandan leadership?! How many? For how long? Because that's BAD. Imagine the havoc skrulls could wreak with Wakanda's resources.

The CGI in this was pretty good. Especially compared to other recent Disney+ titles. That being said, I hate a lot of how they used it. Giving G'iah a huge Drax arm?! Bad choices in multiple ways: A.) the big Drax arm looked so weird as did other things. B.) do they think Marvel fans are too stupid to get what they were doing if they didn't make her arm huge? They should've kept Emilia's arm the same size, only given her Drax's tattoos and skin color at most. We would've understood. C.) the clothing changed too! How does that make sense?

Is Gravik really dead, though? Is Raava? We don't know if Raava has super skrull powers, but Gravik had like EVERYTHING. That seems like it should make him pretty invincible.

How did people not clock how off Rhodey was? There was like an enormous change in his personality. Raava was a jerk!

So, Fury and Sonya only tranqed those secret service members at the hospital. That wouldn't automatically make them revert, right, or every skrull would be outed when they fell asleep. If all those guards were humans, they were legitimately the worst security detail ever. That one guy literally listened to SkrullRhodey pretty much out herself and did nothing. He didn't even warn the president Rhodey was acting uncharacteristically. Every member of White House personale will have to be tested somehow. Maybe check for purple blood?

I really thought Ritson would die at the end. I guess he's just awful (which is unsurprising). I'm glad he won't be president much longer, as Harrison Ford is taking over the role of President Thaddeus Ross in Captain America: Brave New World. That being said, part of me worries that President Ross might be even worse than Ritson.

I kind of loved Varra and Fury's ending. It redeemed the awful, "I guess we'll never know moment."

****EDIT:**** I didn't think about this at the time, but I saw someone else bring it up. G'iah has Captain Marvel powers now! Doesn't that mean she should be caught up in the entanglement mess Captain Marvel, Photon, and Miss Marvel are dealing with in The Marvels?! That's an ENORMOUS plot hole. Not to mention, G'iah is ridiculously overpowered now. People complain about how powerful Superman is, and G'iah is so much worse.

I enjoyed Secret Invasion, even if it wasn't the best Disney+ show. The comics are still WAY better. Regardless, I'm looking forward to The Marvels even more now.

[bedlamsbard]

Some Yonderverse concept writing! This is for a potential sequel to The Horizon Line, set about four years before On Yonder Hill (a.k.a. eleven months post-Snap, four months after the end of Horizon).

About 4.3K below the break.

-----

“How is he?”

There was only one he anyone even remotely associated with the Avengers meant these days.  Six months ago it would have been Loki; since the Tower, it had been Steve Rogers.

Natasha chewed on a fingernail and shot a glance at the Quinjet’s closed hatch, even though she was alone in the vessel and the only people visible through the viewport were a couple of Asgardian teenagers carefully coaxing a dozen strayed miniature sheep back in the direction of the flocks.  She had no doubt that they knew she was there, but the Asgardians were pretty good about not bothering anyone other than Loki, who after almost a year was still their first go-to for anything and everything.

“Natasha?” Rhodey prompted when she didn’t say anything.

“Not good,” she said finally.  “Not – not good.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the call, then Rhodey asked carefully, “How bad is it?”

It was a question whose answer varied from day to day, though sometimes it was hard to tell with Steve, since the worse he was doing the more he shut down.  She couldn’t tell if being in New Asgard was making it worse or better, since everyone there was already traumatized and depressed to the point of daily tears and nightmares.  At least the Asgardians had some kind of cultural context for what had happened to Steve, which did seem to help.

“Well,” Natasha said, “I think Loki is the most emotionally stable person here, so that might be your answer.”  Or at least that he was the best at pushing through the absurdity of daily life post-Snap, which these days amounted to the same thing.  She was aware that it might end in him having a messy breakdown with a body count later on, which was evidently what had happened seven years prior, but that was a problem Natasha and the Avengers would deal with when and if it happened.  At this point she didn’t think it would, or at least that if it did Loki would go off and do it on some other planet instead of on Earth, which Natasha probably should have been more concerned about but which she didn’t have the energy to deal with now.

She took a deep breath, then asked, “Does the President want us back in the States?  Or is Secretary Ross –”

He’d wanted to put Steve back in a lab as soon as he had come out of the Red Room, ostensibly on the grounds of replicating the serum; Natasha was certain that if he’d gotten his way, it would have resulted in a lot of dead scientists.  Steve hadn’t even been able to go into the laboratory wing of Avengers Compound.

“No,” Rhodey said swiftly.  “No, nothing like that.  Just –”  He took a deep breath of his own, then asked, “Is he anywhere nearby?  Anywhere that he can hear?”

Natasha shook her head, remembered that he couldn’t see her, and said, “No, he’s out with Loki looking at some field with the harvest goddesses.  I’m in the Quinjet with the hatch closed.  What is it?”

“I’ll leave it up to you whether to tell him or not, but –” Rhodey sighed heavily.  “Bruce and I just confirmed that Samuel Sterns survived.”

Natasha went absolutely still.

“Natasha?” Rhodey said after a minute of silence.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.  We’ve got footage and eyewitness confirmation.  Bruce and Betty are back at the compound now going through it all.”

“How?”

“We don’t know, but he’s a Hulk mutate, so…”

“Hard to kill,” Natasha said bitterly.  She bit down on her thumbnail, worrying a little strip of it free before she bit it off and spat it aside.  “God, I can’t tell Steve, he’ll never sleep again, and he doesn’t sleep through the night now.  I have to tell Loki – where was he?  America?”

“Brazil.”

Which was at least on the other side of an ocean from New Asgard, though with planes that didn’t mean much.

“God,” Natasha whispered again. “Son of a bitch.  Why won’t he just die?”

“It gets worse,” Rhodey said after a moment.  “Ross knows.”

“Son of a bitch!”  Ross would want Sterns alive and working for him.  Worse, if he got his hands on Sterns, he would find out what he had done to Steve.  In all likelihood Ross had guessed some of what had happened to Steve in the Tower, but guessing was one thing; knowing was another.  And he couldn’t be allowed to know if there was any way around it.

Natasha shut her eyes and slumped against the back of the pilot’s seat. “I can’t keep this from Steve,” she admitted.  “He’ll never forgive me.  But I can’t – Rhodey, he’s terrified of Sterns.  The man drugged him, stuck him in a glass box, implanted a chip in his brain stem, spent a month cutting off bits and watching them grow back, and tried to peel his mind like an onion and got closer that anyone will admit.”

“I know,” Rhodey said grimly.

“Did you tell Tony?”

“Yeah.  We’re using the SI satellites to try and find him.”  He sighed.  “Ross is probably going to want you two – maybe you three – back here sooner rather than later, but not if he can get his hands on Sterns first.  He has to know that we won’t let him take Sterns alive.”

“Preferably mashed into a fine paste,” Natasha muttered.  Louder: “How much time do you think we have?”

“Couple weeks?”

Natasha massaged her forehead.  “I’ll tell Steve and Loki.  If nothing else, Loki will probably want to up the security on New Asgard, which will make me feel better and might make Steve feel better.”  Though at this point she suspected nothing was going to make Steve feel better.  “Keep me updated.”

“Will do.  Take care of yourselves.”

“You too.”  She ended the call and tossed her cell phone onto the jet’s dashboard, staring bleakly out the viewport.  The little sheep were still frolicking gleefully on top of the snow, ignoring the Asgardians’ patient attempts to herd them back towards the flocks.  Unlike nearly every other animal in New Asgard, most of which tended to be half-again as large as their Earth equivalents and some of which were even bigger, the sheep only came up to Natasha’s knees and looked outright comical next to Steve and Loki.

“God damn it,” she whispered, and thumped her closed fist down on top of her thigh.  “God damn it!”

--

All she could think about as she trudged back along the path to the settlement was how frightened Steve had been when they had taken him out of the Tower, away from Samuel Sterns and the Red Room.  It had been the first time in her life that she had ever seen Steve Rogers afraid.  In the four months since, he hadn’t slept through the night once; on his worst days he didn’t sleep at all and he couldn’t be touched.  He didn’t react violently to it, he just froze, his eyes huge and terrified as he waited miserably for whatever was going to come next.  Since Natasha was both the most likely person to touch him and the only person in New Asgard who might have been seriously hurt if he lashed out, that was probably for the best, but on the whole she thought she would have preferred violence.  The unthinking resignation was worse.

Despite the construction of several houses in New Asgard, most of the Asgardians still slept either in Gimlé or Iðavoll.  Natasha passed the great meeting-hall with its gilded rafter-ends, Ullr’s forge, the recently-completed loom-house, and the public baths, all of which were already lit up from within.  Iðavoll’s elaborately carved doors were closed against the cold of a Norwegian March, but they opened easily at her touch, letting out a blast of warm air from the firepit that ran down the center of the great hall.  At this hour the big room was mostly deserted except for the usual assortment of dogs and cats, but Loki and Steve were sitting at the long table at the back of the room, Steve working in his sketchbook and Loki going through his mail.  Natasha still wasn’t sure how the mail was arriving in New Asgard and was afraid to ask.

They both looked up as she came in.  Natasha paused just inside the door to scuff the snow off her boots, then went to join them.  She touched a brief kiss to Steve’s lips as she sat down next to him, relieved when he put his arm around her; that meant he was having one of his good days.

Loki was frowning at what seemed to be an enormous scale the size of two cupped hands.  When Natasha leaned over to peer at, she saw that one side of it was covered in dense runic writing in gold-colored ink.  It was glowing faintly.  After a moment he tossed the scale down with a clatter and picked up an ordinary envelope, slitting it open with a dagger.  He read the contents, rolled his eyes, and stuck envelope and letter together into the nearest candle flame.

“More hate mail?” Natasha asked.  There was already a dusting of ash on the table.

“More hate mail,” Loki agreed.  He let the letter burn down to his fingers, then dropped it into a bowl and picked up a roll of parchment, leaving sooty fingerprints behind as he pried the wax seal off with the tip of his dagger and flipped it aside.

Steve had a small pile of opened mail set to one side of him, and another pile for Natasha.  As he went back to sketching, Natasha began to sort through her own mail.  Most of it was either hate mail or fan mail; some of the fan mail probably qualified as hate mail too.  There were a couple of advertisements and a letter from Alexei, which she set aside to read later.

She jumped as Loki snarled a curse in Asgardian, the Nordic syllables harsh, and slapped a hand down on the table.  Natasha grabbed for the candle as it started to fall, getting drops of hot wax on the back of her palm before she righted it.

“Kin-slaying be damned, I knew I should have had that son of a níðingr whore killed,” Loki said through clenched teeth.  He snapped his fingers with a glitter of green-gold magic and said, “Forseti, Ullr, I need you now.  Brunnhilde and Eir if you can be spared.”

Steve and Natasha stared at him as he tossed the parchment down onto the table and flattened his palms on top of the planed wood, flexing them as if he would have preferred to wrap them around someone’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked.

“Family disagreement,” Loki said.

Natasha blinked. “I thought –” she started to say, then stopped herself.

“That everyone was dead?” Loki finished for her.  “I could be so lucky.  That bastard would never have done this to Thor.”  He slapped his hand against the table again, furious.

The great hall’s door opened to admit the Valkyrie and Ullr, with Forseti and Eir just behind them.  As soon as they were within earshot, Loki wadded the parchment up into a ball and tossed it to Ullr, who caught it and straightened it out as Loki slumped back in his chair.

“Is he mad?” the blacksmith demanded, then passed the letter to Forseti.

“Well, given that side of the family, I certainly wouldn’t be surprised to hear it,” Loki said.

Forseti handed the letter to Eir; the Valkyrie leaned around her shoulder to read it too, then blinked and looked up at Loki. “Who the hell is this?”

“My cousin,” Loki said bluntly. “Or Thor’s cousin if we’re going to be exact about it, as he’s being – on my father’s side,” he added for Steve’s and Natasha’s benefits, and presumably the Valkyrie’s.  “Son of my father’s younger brother Vili.  And an ass.  He always has been, ever since we were children.”

“What does he want?” Steve asked.

“Asgard,” Loki said bluntly.  He sat clenching his fist on top of the table, white-knuckled and clench-jawed with fury.  “He wants Asgard.”

Natasha and Steve exchanged a puzzled look.  She would have expected Loki to just dismiss the possibility, but his reaction suggested that there was something else going on. “Can he do that?”

“Yes,” Loki said through clenched teeth. “I do not have time for this nonsense and the Conclave will treat it seriously for the sheer pleasure of dragging Asgard through the mud.  Thor or my father could have gotten away with ignoring it, I can’t.  Not now, at least.  I should have had him killed years ago.”

“The…Conclave?” Natasha said.

“Of the Nine Realms.  Get off, greedy one,” Loki added as Freki jumped up onto the table and sniffed at the remaining mail.  She ignored him and batted a paw at the candle flame, then sat down on some of the opened mail and stared at him.

“Why can’t you ignore the Conclave?” the Valkyrie demanded.  “They’ve never had any real power – not over Asgard, anyway.”

“Because I’m not Asgardian,” Loki said through his teeth. “As dear cousin Baldur takes such care to point out, I’m defiling our people by planting my Jotun-born arse on Hliðskálf, though I don’t think he knows Hliðskálf didn’t survive Ragnarok.  Idiot.  And if I ignore him, some of our people might start listening to him – the Realms might anyway, the House of Odin hasn’t exactly endeared itself to most of them over the course of the past few millennia.  I’m not letting him have the last word.”

“So you’re just going to take him seriously?” the Valkyrie demanded, at the same time that Ullr said, “If the Conclave and the vǫlur decide against you –”

“And have to deal with Baldur for the next six thousand years?” Loki scoffed. “Even they’re not that stupid.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve said.

“My cousin is suing for rule of Asgard,” Loki said. “On the grounds that I’m not Asgardian enough to have a right to the throne.  I’m not sure he knows how few of us there are or if he just wants the prestige of it.  He’s already called it up before the Conclave of the Nine Realms, the rulers of the Nine and some of the protectorate worlds, as well as the vǫlur.  They deal with inter-realm disputes and certain issues of inheritance at the highest levels, or at least they’re supposed to; my father used to rule them with an iron fist.”

Steve and Natasha stared at him.  After a moment, Natasha said, “You’re getting sued?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Isn’t civilization lovely?  I should have stayed evil.”

--

Loki was so furious that Natasha didn’t have a chance to bring up Sterns’ survival to him and Steve until late that evening.  By then rumor had already spread through the settlement and New Asgard was in a state of high panic over the possibility that Loki might be deposed; Natasha wouldn’t give a fig for his cousin’s life if he ever came within spitting distance of New Asgard.  Every Asgardian there had crowded into the great hall for dinner and there was a buzz of sound throughout the building, all of them watching Loki, who slouched in the high seat on the dais and worked his way through two bottles of wine without blinking or looking noticeably inebriated.  He did get increasingly sarcastic as the night went on, though without the sharp-edged cruelty that Natasha remembered from the helicarrier.

“Didn’t the coronation put an end to this?” Natasha asked Forseti quietly at one point, while Loki was busy adjudicating some sort of disagreement over a goat.  “He’s already been crowned king, hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Forseti said. “He’s been elected by the Althing, acclaimed by the Aesir and recognized by the Æsir, but Baldur’s challenging that he has no legal right to stand for election or to hold the throne.”

“But he already has the throne,” Natasha said, puzzled. “And he’s Thor’s brother and Odin’s son, isn’t he?”

“By law-right, yes, and by kin-right,” Forseti said, as Steve leaned in to listen.  The Valkyrie was sitting on Loki’s other side, but she turned her head too, clearly using her superior Asgardian hearing to eavesdrop on the conversation.  “But not by blood, which was never public knowledge.  We won’t know for sure until we stand up in front of the Conclave –”  Natasha took that to mean that she was expecting to act as Loki’s lawyer or whatever the Asgardian equivalent was. “– but my guess is that Baldur Vilison is arguing that because His Majesty isn’t born-Aesir he has no right to the throne.”

“Baldur,” Steve said thoughtfully.  “Isn’t he the one in the myths who…”  He let the words trail off, exchanging a look with Natasha.

She glanced at the wall behind the dais, where Mistilteinn hung along with one of the ulfheðnar’s wolf-headed shields and a pair of short swords, all ready for Loki to snatch up at need.  She had read the same myths as Steve.  On the other hand, they all knew how accurate those myths could be, which usually wasn’t very.

Forseti waved that aside. “They were children.  Eir can tell you the story; she was there.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Steve said, his eyebrows going up.

“Oh, please, he was fine,” Loki said, glancing at him. “It was barely a scratch a thousand years ago.  It’s not my fault he and Höd hold grudges.”

“This isn’t sounding better,” the Valkyrie pointed out.

“What is he the god of?” Natasha asked.

“Light,” Forseti said.

Natasha had no idea what that meant on a practical level, though even after nearly a year she still didn’t quite understand what Asgardian godheads entailed.

Loki scoffed. “He’s barely Aesir, that hardly counts.  I wouldn’t be surprised if what’s left of the Triumvirate talked him into this, I’m not sure he’s smart enough for it on his own.”

“His mother is Rind, younger sister of Freyja and Frey from the Ruling Triumvirate of the Vanir,” Forseti interpreted for Natasha and Steve.  “Odin arranged the marriage soon after he became king.  Vé’s too – that’s Vili’s twin; he married twice on Ria, but there were no children from those.  He has three bastard daughters, all with different mothers.”

“Does Baldur actually have a claim to the throne?” Natasha asked curiously.

“Kin-right, not law-right,” Loki said, scowling. “My father made certain of that when he married off his brothers.  None of my cousins even have a vote in the Althing; they’re not Asgardian by law.”

One thing that Natasha had figured out over the past eleven months was that Asgardian law was insanely complicated and got more so when it intersected with the laws of the other worlds in the Nine Realms.  There was no overreaching law in the Nine Realms; Asgardian law applied to a certain sector of the population on the planets ruled directly by Asgard, but otherwise local laws dominated.  There were ways to argue that one set of laws should apply over another, several cases of which Loki had already adjudicated, since the King of Asgard was the highest authority in any law case that involved Asgardians.

Loki knocked back his wine glass and picked up the bottle again, shaking it experimentally before setting it back down with a sigh; apparently it was empty.  He turned his attention to another Asgardian standing in front of the high table, saying something to her that Natasha didn’t catch.

Natasha sat back in her chair, thinking about what it might mean for Earth if Loki did lose the Asgardian throne.  The Asgardians were on Earth because Thor had wanted them to be and Loki was determined to follow his brother’s last wishes; knowing the general Asgardian opinion of Earth, she doubted that anyone else would be all that interested in carrying on with the New Asgard experiment.  Most human politicians would find removing the Asgardians from Earth a preferable option to keeping them here.  On the other hand, unlike Loki, Baldur had no reason to want to keep on Earth’s good side, and the last thing they needed was another inter-planetary war.

There were more Asgardians bedding down in the great hall than there had been lately by the time Loki finally pulled himself free and retreated to the room in the back of the building that he shared with Steve and Natasha.  It was a long room that ran behind the great hall, divided by folding screens and warmed by braziers filled with magically heated stones.  Loki sat down heavily on the futon-like quilted mat he slept on and rubbed his hands over his face, some of his anger and frustration dropping away.  When he looked up again, his expression was weary.

“Is it actually serious?” Natasha asked him.

He nodded.  “The Conclave doesn’t have any real ability to enforce anything it decides, but Baldur has close ties to the Ruling Triumvirate of the Vanir, and Freyja and Idunn could decide to enforce it if the Conclave decides in his favor.  That would mean war, since I doubt my people would simply accept Baldur’s claim even if I did.  Traditionally Asgard has never given much weight to the Conclave, since for many millennia we were the only ones who enforced anything across the Nine.”  He drew his knees up and rested his folded arms over the top of them.  “Baldur would very likely take my people to Vanaheim as well.  It would have been different if there was still an Asgard, but…”  He shook his head.  “In half a century, they wouldn’t be Asgardian anymore, they’d be Vanir, and Vanaheim would have the Protectorate, not Asgard.”

“What would it mean for you?” Steve asked, sounding worried.

Loki lifted a shoulder in a shrug.  “I could go to Vanaheim with the rest of my people, I suppose, if Baldur didn’t have me outlawed.  I could go elsewhere in the Nine; Eitri would probably take me in.  I could stay here.  Or I could leave the Nine.  Or, well, there’s the lovely and more likely option of civil war.  I don’t know that the Vanaheim garrison would side with Baldur over me – Thor, certainly, but to them he’s just another Vanr, not an Ás.  Though I’m not sure they’re convinced I’m an Ás, though they wouldn’t be wrong there.  Of course, they don’t get a vote, so what they think doesn’t really matter unless we do get that lovely civil war.”

He held out a hand to Freki as the cat walked in through the closed door, which never failed to disturb Natasha.  Freki butted her head against his fingers, then curled up against his left ankle as he stroked her back.

“So basically the Conclave is the space UN,” Natasha said thoughtfully. “Or the World Security Council.”  Before Alexander Pierce had blown the World Security Council to hell.

Since Loki had spent the better part of a month arguing with the UN, he couldn’t fall back on his usual tactic of pretending he didn’t know how Earth governments worked.  All he said was, “Roughly,” and rubbed at his face with the hand not involved in petting Freki.

Natasha bit her lip, not wanting to make Loki’s day worse, but if she put this off any longer then it would go worse for everyone involved.  She caught Steve’s eye as he started to move towards the opposite side of the room where they usually slept – they slept with Loki occasionally, but not that often – and he stopped, looking at her inquisitively.  “What is it?”

Loki looked up again.  “I take it that I’m not the only one who got bad news today.”

“No,” Natasha said.  “I got a call from Rhodey earlier.”

“I cannot go to America right now, even if it’s being attacked by robots again –” Loki began.

“It’s not about that,” Natasha said.  She took a deep breath, then said, “He and Bruce just confirmed that Samuel Sterns is still alive.”

Steve went dead white.  He took a step away from Natasha, his shoulders bunching up as if he expected to be hit and he was trying to brace himself for the blow.

Loki cursed wearily in Nordic-sounding Asgardian syllables that made Freki sit up and hiss.  “How?”

“They don’t know,” Natasha said. “They’re trying to find him before –”

“Before he finds me?” Steve said. “I’m not exactly hard to find.”

“He can’t cross the land-wards,” Loki said. “And if he tries, the Valkyrie will dismember him.”  Freki hissed again and Loki glanced down at her, smiling wryly. “Assuming the greedy one here doesn’t get him first.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve said blankly. “Ross will call us back, or he’ll use it as an excuse to –”  He had started to shake again, but when Natasha put out a hand to him, he pulled away.

Loki chewed his lower lip, then shrugged suddenly and said, “Then don’t be here.  Come to Nornheim with me; Midgard does technically have a seat on the Conclave and you might as well remind the rest of the Nine exactly who put an end to Thanos.  They could use the reminder that humanity is no longer Yggdrasil’s plaything.”

Natasha looked at him in surprise. “Nornheim?”

“The vǫlur host the Conclave at the ruins of Urðarbrunnr on Nornheim,” Loki explained.  “It’s considered neutral by all Nine Realms and the rest of the Protectorate.”  He frowned thoughtfully.  “The vǫlur might side with me; my mother was patroness to them.  On the other hand, I’m fairly certain that my sister is the reason Urðarbrunnr is in ruins, so perhaps not.”  His gaze flickered upwards again. “Regardless, there’s no way that Sterns will be able to reach it.”

Natasha glanced at Steve.  After a moment he nodded and she said, “I guess we’re going to Nornheim.”

[aurumacadicus]

I love Rhodey so much I’m ready to fistfight Tony Stark for the privilege of President of the James Rhodes Fan Club

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Man, Secret Invasion's finale was so underwhelming.

I will admit I loved that Fury called out the President on his hate-ass speech but I would have wanted them to explore the aftermath of that a bit more. We just got a quick montage when this was the perfect opportunity to dive a little bit into the political side of things, like the US declaring war on all alien species and then Norway taking a stand and saying "uh excuse you, we got the Asgardians here and we're fans" (Norway may not be an EU country but they have a bunch of deals with us + they're a founding NATO member).

I know this is an American series but it's a little frustrating that they think the US Pres declaring something that means everyone is going to follow suit like a bunch of lovesick puppies. There are conflicting interests here and this was the perfect show to explore that, especially when Fury has spent all episodes talking about the flaws of the human race and all our prejudices.

Anyway, this show should have had 9 eps instead of 6. The final ep was only 30 minutes long, no wonder they had to rush things so much. And I wanted Rhodey, the real Rhodey to actually do something in this one. What a waste.

[lesbian-deadpool]

Tony: That's like the president and the vice president not being best friends.

Rhodey: They're not best friends.

Tony: Come on, everybody knows they're best friends.

[heraartaxis]

No freaking way the latest episode of secret invasion

Happened exactly how I thought it would go must say every episode 4 doesn’t fail to impress.

Giah not being dead okay her hooking onto the machine was quick thinking and gaining extremis powers.

Rhodey being a skrull yeah we saw that coming, and him asking Varra to kill Fury.

TALOS DYING?? ALSO I THOUGHT SO BUT I DIDNT EXPECT FURY TO LEAVE THE BODY THERE. I WAS SO PISSED.

But it was quite cool when the soldiers yelled oh gosh who is that alien and Fury yelling he’s with me and they all back off it felt like the old Fury.

I was crying when Fury was overhearing the convo between his wife and Rhodes. Okay so now I think Rhodes was a skrull all along because there’s no way in hell that he could have survived that fall in Civil War.

Scenes between Fury and his wife is pretty beautiful. The gun shot though.

Fury was terrified to see Gravik’s face when it just went back in place.

Rhodes blackmailing Fury oh man. When I saw them screen share for the first time of felt so good. Did not think this would end up like that.

So this president dies and Thunderbolt takes over?? And the thunderbolts are his version of avengers!! Somewhat similar to comic run.

[romancomicsblog]

Marvel's Secret Invasion wastes potential & fantastic actors - REVIEW

I'll be honest, the announcement of Secret Invasion being adapted into a Marvel television series was somewhat disappointing. After seeing this story successfully adapted through Avenger's Earth Mightiest Heroes, and with the MCU's ever growing roster of heroes, it felt like a story well suited for the big screen.

None the less, when it was revealed to be an espionage thriller centered around Nick Fury, with the feel of Captain America the Winter Soldier, I was very excited.

As the cast grew, Ben Mendelson, Emilia Clarke, Cobie Smulders, Don Cheadle, Olivia Coleman, Kingsley Ben-Adir, I thought this show was going to be something very special.

Unfortunately, while most MCU shows have been a mixed bag, none have been more mixed baggier than Secret Invasion.

Before I get anymore deep into this rant, I must say:

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ALL OF SECRET INVASION.

I will say a few nice things to start.

Excellent Actors

Although I think many of these actors were wasted as far as how much screen time they had, and their role within their show, the show is ridiculously stacked with talent and it's a delight to watch.

Olivia Colman, Kingsley Ben-Adir, Don Cheadle and Ben Mendelson are highlights to me, but Samuel L Jackson, Emilia Clarke, and others are also fantastic.

Colman as Sonya I think will leave this show as a fan favorite, and possible eventual successor to Fury. She has a good mix of fun energy and intimidation, and clearly is having a ball.

Don Cheadle's "Rhodey" is for once doing something interesting in this show. As a secondary antagonist, Cheadle is able to chew up scenery as a Skrull and be a sinister rival to Samuel L Jackson, for once using Cheadle's fantastic acting skills properly.

While Gravik is an ordinary Marvel villain by all means, Ben-Adir gives him an anger and viewpoint that feels fresh. His monologue facing Fury in the final episode really brings the pain out for me. I don't know if he'll work as a character for others, but for me, due to the performance, Gravik is a step above many others.

Solid Ending

Secret Invasion ends on some very interesting notes, and I think overall sticks the landing where other MCU shows fail.

Wrapping up the story of Gravik with a giant Super-Skrull fight (which was a lot of fun), it leaves the MCU in a very interesting place, with the President calling on all aliens to be considered enemies.

This leaves assassinations running rampant, Skrulls on the run, and people anxious and scared.

This leaves Sonya and a new super G'iah as uneasy allies to protect the Skrulls and mankind.

This also pushes Fury to keep his promise and go up to Saber to continue his mission with his wife.

Overall, I like this ending. It sets up good stakes for earth that aren't just multiversal stakes. We can feel the ramifications of this show for years to come, and seeing what Fury, Sonya, and G'iah do next does excite me.

Plus, who doesn't love a Super Skrull fight?

Excellent Complicated Love Story

I think often where reviews and reviewers fall short is complaining about what a show isn't as opposed to examining a show for what it is.

While part of me thinks this isn't the time for a Nick Fury love story, I also have to point out that this is a great love story.

Charlayne Woodard as Nick Fury's wife Varra/Priscilla Davis adds an excellent layer to Fury's character.

While the chemistry is there, the acting performance between these two were captivating. There is an excellent scene where you have no idea what each character might do, guns on the table, talking about their past mistakes.

This was by far my favorite scene of the show.

It also brings to light many of Fury's flaws and possible prejudices, and gives you a firsthand look at what Skrulls go through on a daily basis.

Overall, I loved the inclusion of Varra, and would love to see her pop up more often.

But now on to my problems with the show. Starting with:

Meaningless Deaths

While a story like this definitely needs death to carry weight, I'd argue two characters die for absolutely no reason.

First I'll talk about is Talos. This fan favorite character dies in my opinion the saddest death. At the end of Talos' life, he has lost his wife, his daughter has lost faith in him, he has been stripped of his seat at the table of the Council, he has lost the faith of his people, and he just dies.

Now, a death like that you think would impact our main characters in any sort of significant way. But Fury, like with most deaths, has no reaction. It does not change or effect Fury's view of himself, he does not reflect on his regrets. You'd assume he was a nothing soldier, not a brother in arms.

But at the very least we got more Talos this season before his fatal end.

Maria Hill and Cobie Smulders deserved so much more.

Besides her death being used as leverage for the world to be after Nick Fury, which truly doesn't affect him at all, Hill's role is simply to die to imply stakes.

Using Maria just to die in such an unheroic way is really insulting to the character. When they killed Coulson, at the very least they did it with him trying to protect one of our heroes. Here, she is tricked by Gravik, and dies doing nothing of importance in the series.

I think having another character to provide a view point between Talos and Fury's argument of the Skrulls could have been beneficial. And having a larger group of agents would've added to the drama of who you could trust, who is really a skrull.

Instead they wasted not one but two of Marvel's most underrated characters.

Twists we see Coming

Rhodey being a skrull, G'iah not being dead, even G'iah being Fury in the final battle were all rather predictable twists. While there were genuine moments of suspense and shock, none of these worked for me.

Perhaps if they hinted strongly The President was a Skrull, and it was revealed it was actually Rhodey, that might've worked more for me, or hiding G'iah is alive for a few episodes. But instead none of them felt particularly hard to figure out.

Easy to figure out who you could trust

The point of a Secret Invasion storyline with many characters is to not trust anyone.

With the exception of Rhodey, Ross and Fury (ONE TIME), we don't get anyone impersonating our heroes. No one pretends to be Talos, or other MCU heroes, and Fury's crew is easy to trust throughout the entire show.

They do a half-hearted reason as to why Fury can't call other Avengers but really the best reason was right under their noses: he doesn't know who is real. That should've been the driving force of the show. Fury putting all his best mates to the test trying to figure out who he can trust and undo this invasion.

That's what a Secret Invasion story is.

All in all, Secret Invasion has just enough weight and great performances to warrant a watch and maybe even a future. It surprisingly sets up a second season very well, even with two protagonists who aren't Fury.

If this were to continue, it definitely needs to push the stakes, the conflict, and more than anything, the suspense. We should all be like Agent Prescod wondering desperately as it goes on, who do we trust?

If not, I'm afraid this show is destined to be forgotten in the middle of the road of the MCU.

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