𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃

                                       𝐚   𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞   𝐡𝐚𝐬   𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲   𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐬   ,   𝐚𝐥𝐥   𝐨𝐟   𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡   𝐭𝐨   𝐜𝐮𝐭   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐨𝐧.                  but   even   with   her   talents   ,   she   is   surprised   by   the   laughter   he   releases.                  it   is   light   ,   yet   filled   with   the   SHADOWS   of   eternity   spent   in   such   isolation.   the   words   wash   over   her   as   a   STORMFRONT   ,   a   shivering   cold   that   makes   her   next   breath   long.               “               you’re   right   ,                  ”               wanda   admits   softly   ,   easing   back   into   her   chair   ,   its   legs   creaking   with   SLIGHTEST   movement.               (               she   is   more   at   ease   with   him   than   anyone   else               )

“               i   used   to   think   i   was   so   alone   ,   on   the   streets   of   my   country.   but   i   didn’t   know   what   alone   really   MEANT   until   .   .   .               ”               she   still   can’t   say   his   name   ,   not   here   —   too   revered   for   any   wandering   EAR   to   be   so   honored.               “            i   didn’t   think   i   would   ever   find   another   place   that   is   MY   place.               but   we   are   here.               &   &   like   you   say   ,   we   deserve   good   things.                  ”               regardless   of   whether   the   good   things   deserve   THEM   or   not   ;   this   she   can   understand   the   longing   for.   they   have   both   been   out   in   the   cold   for   TOO   long.               “               you   should   speak   your   thoughts   more   OFTEN.   they   are   good   ,   too.               ”

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇  𝐎𝐅  𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅  within  his  lungs  .  cold  lungs  that  have  felt  the  sense  of  speechless  words  for  far  too  long  .  he’s  never  been  a  silent  director  of  sorts  ,  language  not  unfamiliar  upon  his  tongue  ,  but  feelings  and  emotions  had  long  been  stripped  of  him  and  now  they  seem  to  come  back  tenfold  .  these  harrowing  deals  remain  echos  in  his  mind  ,  they  leech  onto  him  to  sink  beneath  tired  flesh  .  he  is  tired  ,  he  is  no  longer  the  damaged  toy  soldier  that  the  kgb  made  him  out  to  be  ,  he  is  not  some  product  of  the  red  room  that  many  seem  to  echo  when  they  find  him  out  of  earshot  .  if  anything  ,  the  red  room  was  a  product  of  him  .  

A sure grip squeezed at the soldier’s shoulder, Sharon offering a tight lipped smile.  “How’re you holding up?”  The blonde asked quietly before she went back to donning her gear and saddling up for this next mission with Bucky.  @cryofcrged​  /  Sharon C.

It was a game of whack-a-mole for Carol as blast after blast was fired.  However, it wasn’t long until their targets wised up and started shooting at her.  But Captain Marvel moved too fast for them to get an accurate shot, twisting and spinning in the air as if she’d been born there.  Through the rush of wind and the call of battle, the blonde was aware of Barnes’ voice.  Changing her course, Carol went to pick off the stragglers.

They worked as a team.  An efficient team.  Danvers had never liked playing well with others but the way in which she and Barnes felled their enemy spoke otherwise.  Maybe they had a natural fighting chemistry or Carol had done a shit ton of growing since joining the Avengers.

When it seemed they had won for the moment, the hero met her partner at their predetermined location.  Lightly Carol touched down and commanded her helmet to disappear.  A wide and cocky grin tugged at her lips.  “Not bad for a days work, hey Barnes?”

❛       𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓  𝐒𝐀𝐘  𝐖𝐄’𝐑𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓  𝐘𝐄𝐓     ❜      the  echoed  sound  of  his  annoyance  rings  ,  a  steady  gaze  streaming  across  their  perimeter  .  he  doesn’t  have  the  skills  of  flight  ,  but  what  he  does  have  is  a  keen  soldier’s  sense  ,  one  instilled  upon  him  since  basic  training  .  from  afar  he  could  take  an  accurate  shot  ,  the  best  sniper  ever  to  grace  the  us  army  but  he’s  on  the  ground  ,  not  perched  upon  a  hilltop  waiting  for  the  perfect  moment  .  

a  slight  rustle  ,  he  waits  just  a  breath  of  a  moment  before  moving  forward  ,weapon  out  and  fired  only  to  hear  a  thump  as  a  body  lay  upon  the  ground  .  no  ,  he  wouldn’t  say  they  were  quite  done  yet  ---  but  they  were  a  hell  of  a  lot  closer  than  they  were  before  ,  that  much  he  was  sure  of  .  

              𝐢𝐟   𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲   ,   𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬   𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝   𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫   ,   𝐚   𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡   𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭   𝐡𝐚𝐬   𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫   𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧   𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝   𝐢𝐧   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲   𝐨𝐟   𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝   &   &   𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.              though   she   can’t   help   but   still   wish   for   it   in   moments   like   this   ,   when   the   pain   &   &   suffering   that   DOMINATES   the   universe   nags   at   the   back   of   her   mind   ,   looking   for   a   weakness   ,   a   way   in.               “               so   you’d   only   stay   if   you   had   someone   else   ?               ”               tea   cup   brought   to   the   mouth   ,   only   to   hide   a   smile   playing   on   LOVELY   lips.

they   are   always   alone   ,   but   for   now   —   they   can   be   alone   together.   boots   cross   UNDERNEATH   the   table   &   &   then   uncross   ,   a   behavioral   motion   that   GIVES   away   constant   anxiety   laid   silent   in   the   fingertips.               “               or   are   you   only   saying   that   because   I   AM   here   &   &   i   like   this   place   ,   too   ?               ”

𝐀  𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇  ,  𝐀𝐒  𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐄  𝐀𝐒  𝐈𝐓  𝐈𝐒  𝐃𝐑𝐘  slips  from  his  lips  at  her  words  .  it’s  true  ---  there  is  a  part  of  him  that  knows  connecting  himself  to  the  station  of  another  is  dangerous  and  a  game  that  deep  down  would  end  up  with  him  in  a  precarious  situation  once  again  .  yet  ,  he  doesn’t  take  back    his  words  ,  nor  does  he  amend  them  for  the  sake  of  her  attempts  at  picking  them  apart  .  ❛        i’m  saying  it  helps  to  not  be  alone          ❜    makes  the  days  go  by  easier  ,  and  wanda  ---  she  has  a  way  about  her  that  he  cannot  explain  ,  has  never  really  tried  to  ,  and  perhaps  that  was  the  beauty  of  it  .  less  complicated  ,  but  also  ,  very  complicated  all  at  once  .  

“i don’t know,” she answered, “i cannot tell you how to live your life, james, i only know how to live my own,” she said. her dark eyes watched his face. they were different the pair of them, save for their talent at killing. and she did not ever think she would stop feeling like this. “you must do what you think is best, and only you would know what that is. for my own part … i cannot stop this life. the hand will never let me give up this violence,” they had made that clear to her over and over again. “if i must be death, then i will visit those that deserve it. and i will visit it on the hand. it is not penance. it will not save me from damnation. but it is the best i can do. i will never wash my hands clean, i may as well stain them with the right blood." 

Spots.

Marc knew what the word spots meant when it came to someone like the Winter Soldier. He knew the reputation the same way that the other man likely knew his own. He was well-known to be erratic and brutal, to have overstepped bounds and gone head to head with the Avengers more times than some did. His gaze darted past the other man, and then back. There was no easy way to escape, not when a fellow with a metal arm was standing before him. He exhaled a bit sharply. 

“I’m an Avenger.” He protested, but there was a hint of doubt in his voice. Captain America was not to be found in the room - little was that made much sense. Ceremonial objects littered the dresser, the nightstand. Ancient artefacts and dust. The statue of Khonshu himself was in the corner, nicked and cracked. Marc looked back to the dresser, as if pondering getting fully dressed. He felt oddly vulnerable in the state he was in now. Oddly… wrong.

“Why would I know anything?” Marc asked rhetorically. The answer was fairly obvious all the same. “It’s Jake who has the connections.” 

Jake. Jake Lockley. Anyone who had seen his file knew something unmistakable - that Marc was Jake - but he didn’t know how well his file was actually known. He raked his fingers through his hair as he turned, tension visibly running through his muscles. He was ready to attack, on the verge of attacking. His gaze went back to his dresser, and his fingers twitched at his side. Did he know what had happened to Captain America?

He could remember bits and pieces, but it was all fleeting, all strange. He looked at the metal as the faint light glinted off of it, the steely gaze before him. He raked his mind again, searching and not finding what he wanted, not finding anything clear. It was a distant look there in his eyes as he shifted his weight to his left foot, fingers curled in a fist at his side. 

“I’m not the man you want.” He said darkly, but in truth he had no idea. No clear idea. “Why don’t you tell me what you know? I worked in the CIA. I could help. I know Jake, he could help.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑  𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒  .  ever  studying  ,  waiting  patiently  for  a  mistake  to  be  made  ,  he  embodies  that  of  a  snake  lying  in  the  grass  as  the  perfect  moment  to  strike  comes  to  pass  .  this  is  his  skill  ,  be  valiant  ,  be  brutal  when  necessary  and  destroy  that  which  crosses  his  path.  right  now  ,  he’s  simply  observing  the  way  the  other’s  gaze  sweeps  over  the  room  just  as  his  own  did  ;  an  empty  stare  ,  something  familiar  ---  the  look  of  a  man  reaching  out  for  memories  that  were  just  beyond  his  grip  ,  right  where  his  fingers  could  just  about  touch  upon  them  and  yet  feeling  nothing  more  than  the  air  around  him  .  

❛        jake  lockley  isn’t  in  the  mood  to  talk  right  now        ❜      the  response  is  cold  ,  distant  while  he  remains  upon  his  place  ,  the  shadows  having  seemingly  wrapped  their  way  around  him  ,  forged  a  shield  that  he’s  made  himself  a  home  in  .  this  is  the  only  way  he  knows  ,  to  dig  back  to  deeper  roots  of  his  training  in  order  to  find  out  what  has  happened  to  his  friend  and  nothing  is  going  to  prevent  that  from  happening  .  ❛   let’s  just  say  he  and  i  shared  words  before  i  decided  here  was  a  good  place  to  start        ❜

shared  words  leaves  a  vague  taste  in  the  air  between  them  ,  a  void  of  information  not  given  ,  distance  shoved  in  a  way  that  seems  to  only  add  more  horror  and  threat  to  the  winter  soldier’s  stance  in  present  time  .  he’s  not  there  to  cause  more  havoc  ,  no  ---  but  this  innocent  little  meeting  is  growing  tense  ,  the  feeling  beneath  the  soldier’s  flesh  brings  about  a  new  tempo  of  distrust  that  makes  him  uncomfortable  .  

the  problem  was  ,  bucky  doesn’t  know  much  ,  which  is  as  off  putting  as  anything  else  he’s  spoken  since  his  arrival  ,  ❛    not  much  .  he’d  gone  out  on  a  mission  ,  comms  dropped  ---  you  know  how  it  is  ,  the  usual   ❜      shield  was  working  hard  ,  but  they  were  likely  not  going  to  get  the  answers  that  they  sought  without  a  little  bit  of  push  they  were  unwilling  to  give  .  ❛    fact  is  ,  i’m  the  only  one  with  the  actual  means  to  find  him  ,  doesn’t  mean  nobody  else  is  looking  ---  and  i  bet    you  know  more  than  you  think  you  do  ,  or  you  have  someone  else  besides  lockley  that  could  point  me  in  the  right  direction  .        ❜