“Thanks for meeting me here.” Mel smiles tightly while setting down her bag, a file and then finally shrugging her coat onto the back of her chair.

“Yeah, no problem. Is everything okay?” Bucky notes the shift in her demeanor, the way she glances out of the restaurant’s storefront window into the night.

“All good.” She cracks another smile as the server approaches for drink orders.

But Bucky isn’t stupid and Mel doesn’t just call him for casual dinners out, as much as he wishes she would sometimes. The server shifts to him expectantly and he repeats Mel’s drink order, gaining a ‘seriously’ look from her. He eyes the file, certain that whatever she called about is contained inside.

“How’ve you been?” Mel captures his attention again and a wave of exhaustion tugs him down. “You know, since the break up?”

“Everyone knows about that?”

“It’s absolutely my job to know everything that happens within the New Avengers. Val would kill me for anything less.” A real smile this time.

“I’m fine. Great, even.”

“And nothing weird has been happening?” She asks carefully, thanking the server when the drinks appear.

“You’ll need to be more specific. Our lives aren’t very normal.” The response earns him a frown and an eyeroll.

“Weird, Bucky. Like your apartment complex catching fire last week? Or maybe the bomb threat that was called in on the day you were meant to present legislation that would make it easier for us to be the city’s heroes?”

“I would call that a coincidence.” He shifts under that familiar feeling of exhaustion, trying to shake it.

“I would call that Miss Fortune.”

“Misfortune? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“You also lost your dry cleaning and I don’t see your car parked out there.” Mel rattles off, taking a sip of water.

“My keys went missing earlier, I ubered.” 

“It’s Miss Fortune.”

“Would you stop saying misfortune?” He glowers, pointing at something random on the menu when the server approaches for their orders.

“It’s not misfortune. It’s Miss. Fortune.” She emphasizes the last two words and scoots the file towards him. 

But when he goes to reach for it, the mechanics in his arm freeze. A sharp whirring noise comes from his arm, almost like grinding metal and he deftly punches the pressure points that the Dora Milaje often took advantage of, causing the arm to drop from his shirt sleeve to the ground in silence. Mel’s eyes darted from the file still laying on the table to Bucky’s missing limb.

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything.” She bites back her amusement while Bucky looks over his metal arm before re-attaching it, “does that…happen often?”

“There’s been some performance issues. But that’s new.”

“Okay now would be the time to look at the file and maybe use your good hand.” She must see the apprehension in his face because Mel pushes the file open before he can make a move. “I looked into your ex.  Actually I started looking  into her when you two first started dating.” “Jealous?” He jokes watching the way her cheeks flush with color, smiling in satisfaction.

“Hardly. You know Val has to pretend to be in control of everything. I couldn’t find anything, which is weird because everyone our age…my age… has a digital footprint.” Mel’s amendment reminds Bucky just how odd their dynamic would be, how odd it had been with her. He may be over 100 years old but he still felt like he was in his 30’s. Mel points to the first page ignoring his silence, “But then I found something.” 

Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Name: YFN YLN. Mutant Abilities: Fortune, Favor, and its counterparts. Code Name: Miss Fortune. It was an ID Card for some type of boarding school. She never brought up her past and Bucky was the last person to push someone for details like that. 

“What is this– she’s a mutant” Mel spoke at the same time as he found the words.

“So let me get this straight, we've got wizards, warlocks, aliens, and now mutants?”

“I mean, I doubt they like that term but yes, we’ve got gifted people…” Mel nods, “She’s causing your bad luck. What happened?”

“We broke up.” Bucky defends himself.

“Mutually?”

“We both needed a fresh start.” 

Just as the server approaches with their food, alarms start blaring and sprinklers start to pour. The file is mush by the time Mel yanks it back towards her and the lights in the restaurant flicker before going out completely. There’s vague yelling from the manager for everyone to stay calm and furious mutters about the building not being up to code.

“She’s here, right?” Bucky asks Mel over the din of the restaurant. “I have a feeling.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s nearby and something tells me she wasn’t so thrilled about the ‘fresh start’ .” Mel responds as the sprinklers slow to a trickle. “ I don’t know why you’d get us a table at the biggest window on the street. I bet she saw us together.” 

“It was supposed to be a blank page…” He sighs. 

After several moments, the manager apologizes that the lights would not be back on this evening, service is canceled and that they were all free to go. The restaurant goers slowly file out of the building yelling slurs and threatening to take to social media over it. Bucky guides Mel out and pushes her right back inside as a string of cars erupt into flames, gas tanks exploding as people scatter away from the danger.

“Help, I lost myself again but I remember you.” Wanda softly speaks to the cool stone in front of her.

She took to visiting the Sokovian monument and park whenever she could spare the time. The one thing she’d never forgive Tony Stark for, as long as she lived, would be the day that she lost her other half; her protector; her twin brother. The ache in her chest never eased up, after so many years, the agony was just as fresh as the day she let go of the leash on her power.

Before the battle Pietro had kissed his sister’s brow and muttered, ‘Don't come back, it won't end well…’ She hadn’t even thought about the implication as she left him to fight elsewhere. If you had told her he wouldn’t make it out, she would’ve laughed in your face… and yet he hadn’t. Wanda had never felt the sort of quiet that follows the death of the person she shared a lifeline with. The death of their parents had been a mere shadow compared to the looming darkness she had welcomed in.

“I can't help but wonder, if your grave was watered by the rain, would roses bloom? Could roses bloom again?” Wanda whispers, setting a rose at the base of the memorial. She carefully brushes off her hands, looking at the list of casualties one more time before heading off to catch her next flight.

“Wanda please...we are out of time.” Vision places her hand on his cheek and she knows that he’s right but she can’t lose him. Not him. Not when she finally saw light in her life.

“I can’t…”

“Yes you can. You can.” He’s being selfless and selfishly, she wishes the opposite. It’s not fair. None of this has been fair. “If he gets the stone, half of the universe dies. It’s not fair, it shouldn’t be you, but it is. It’s alright, you could never hurt me.”

But it would kill her. This one thing, killing the one person she would give anything for would hurt her. It would kill what was left of whatever light had filled her in recent years. She knew in those fleeting moments, this would be the end of her. But Vis was right. Half of the universe was at stake and she could help others by taking the pain.

“I just feel you.” Vis whispers to Wanda as she forces her power directly into his skull. Pain. Not from Vision but from her own heart shattering into infinite pieces; her own soul shredding at the thought of losing another loved one. It’s too much.

“I understand, my child. Better than anyone.” Thanos’ voice grates on her as the numbness begins to spread through her body. The pain is hollow.

“You could never.” Her thoughts fall back to the body behind her, the man she loved so fiercely. Retrace my lips, erase your touch. It's all too much for me… Before she realizes the ramblings of the alien, he’s turned back time and Vision is once again alive and the stone...the stone, “NO!”

She’s swatted away like a fly and all of it was for nothing. She killed Vision for nothing. When she finally makes it over to his body, he’s gray. He’s not there anymore. The darkness beckons her with its beautiful quiet.

“Our love is six feet under, I can't help but wonder if our grave was watered by the rain.” She whispers, leaning over him, stroking his cheek, “Would roses bloom? Could roses bloom?”

And as the darkness edges in, Wanda realizes it’s all wrong. Everything is bitter and cold and then it’s actually dark before her eyes adjust to redness. Some sort of other place. She recognizes Sam first and Peter and it hits her...she got lost in the snap. The final piece of her fleeting life, cast away like smoke.

“They're playin' our sound. Layin' us down tonight and all of these clouds, cryin' us back to life.” The radio hums a melancholy tune as Wanda parks outside of S.W.O.R.D.

“I know you have him.” She leans on the desk, willing the security guard to give her this one thing.

“I’m sorry but like I said–

“Please. Please? When I came back, he was gone. His... body and I know he’s here.” Her resentment ebbs in, “He deserves a funeral, at least. I deserve it.”

“Yes sir. Yeah...she’s still here.” She nods to herself, of course they’d talk about her as if she were the issue. As if it wasn’t her right to have the remains of her soulmate returned to her. “Through the doors, down the hall. Two lefts and a right.”

One moment, I have to buzz you in!” The guard calls as she heads for the doors.

“I got it. Thanks.” She sends a burst of magic forcing the doors open, a little over the top but she just wants to see him.

“Wanda Maximoff.” Hayward greets smugly and Wanda stops short in his office, “It’s an honor to meet you, truly.”

“Who are you?”

“Director Tyler Hayward, I understand you’re here to see the vision. To...recover the body, that is. Is that right?”

“Well I’m his next of kin.”

“I understand. I’d like to show you something.”

“Then you’ll give him to me?” He turns instead to a giant window.

“Please, just...come with me.”And from above, she spots him. Or rather, pieces of him being tinkered with and sawed at.

“Stop...stop. Stop it!” Wanda’s voice cracks... a small window into her soul, “what are you doing to him?!”

But she stops hearing the man beside her. SHe has to get down there. She has to stop whatever it is they think they’re doing. Vis is more than vibranium and more than ai, he’s her person. He has thoughts and feelings and they’re tearing him apart. “He’s all I have.”

“Well that’s just it Wanda, he isn’t yours.” The rage is instantaneous and Wanda is down beside Vis before Hayward can say anything else to twist the knife in her gut. “Fall back, it’s fine. Let her see for herself.”

He’s gone. Her magic can’t feel anything close to the essence of the man she loved. He’s not there. You’re cold as a night. So very cold. I can’t feel you!

“I can’t feel you.” She repeats, needing to hear it out loud, “I can’t feel you.”

Leaving the building, Wanda gets into her car, picking up the deed to the land she had meant to start her life with Vision on. She’d look at it. At least once. Maybe even imagine what could’ve been before letting the darkness consume what was left of her.

“Six feet under, I can't help but wonder if our grave was watered by the rain?” The radio matches her thoughts, matches her feelings in the way only music can as she heads for the town of Westview.

“So to recap… parents dead, brother dead, Vision dead.” Agatha murmurs, not oblivious to the pain wrenching Wanda’s core, just uncaring and motivated enough to overlook it, “What happened when he wasn’t there to pull you back from the darkness, Wanda?”

“I can’t do this anymore–

“C’mon Wanda! You’re on the precipice. You are right. There. Tell me how you did it.” But she didn’t exactly do anything… “Vision was gone. And you wanted him back.”

“I wanted him back.” Of course she did, they were supposed to be together.

They were supposed to have a house and a future and kids. If this town had given her anything, it was the family she knew that she deserved. But he wasn't actually there. Vision wasn’t in that room at the S.W.O.R.D. facilities, broken apart on that table. He was gone, returned to the past with the stone.

And just like that, her hope of a dream life in this small New Jersey town shattered. Just like that, something finally untethered. Agatha wanted to see power, well who was Wanda to deny her the show. Who was she to deny the witch every ounce of darkness that she’d suppressed since the beginning?

“This world you made will always be broken. Just. Like. You.” Agatha droned on, relishing the power that Wanda had willingly thrown her way. “Runes?”

Wanda was tired. Tired of living when everyone she ever loved had died. Tired of carrying that barren wasteland of darkness that nobody else could see. But mostly tired of being underestimated.

“In a given space, only the witch who cast them can use her magic. Thanks for the lesson. But I don’t need you to tell me who I am.”  She wasn’t the villain, she had been lost. But if they wanted her to be a villain… well then, she’d make herself the worst they’d ever seen.

Wanda wasn’t a stranger to goodbyes. The town she’d taken over wasn’t hers to keep, the family she’d spent lifetimes creating weren’t hers to keep, and this goodbye didn’t feel nearly as bad. She may have lost everything but she was strong, she always had her strength.

“Bloom…” The thought drifted almost as if the wind had blown it to her small mountain cabin.

“Bloom, again.” Wanda murmurs to herself, getting up from the steps to pour another cup of tea. She would survive this. In the back bedroom, she pours over the entries of the Dark Hold and soaks up what new information and magic she can.

‘Mom..mom, help. Mom, please.’ They shouldn’t be real, the twins were soul fragments but she can’t help thinking...I remember you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Thanks for meeting me here.” Mel smiles tightly while setting down her bag, a file and then finally shrugging her coat onto the back of her chair.

“Yeah, no problem. Is everything okay?” Bucky notes the shift in her demeanor, the way she glances out of the restaurant’s storefront window into the night.

“All good.” She cracks another smile as the server approaches for drink orders.

But Bucky isn’t stupid and Mel doesn’t just call him for casual dinners out, as much as he wishes she would sometimes. The server shifts to him expectantly and he repeats Mel’s drink order, gaining a ‘seriously’ look from her. He eyes the file, certain that whatever she called about is contained inside.

“How’ve you been?” Mel captures his attention again and a wave of exhaustion tugs him down. “You know, since the break up?”

“Everyone knows about that?”

“It’s absolutely my job to know everything that happens within the New Avengers. Val would kill me for anything less.” A real smile this time.

“I’m fine. Great, even.”

“And nothing weird has been happening?” She asks carefully, thanking the server when the drinks appear.

“You’ll need to be more specific. Our lives aren’t very normal.” The response earns him a frown and an eyeroll.

“Weird, Bucky. Like your apartment complex catching fire last week? Or maybe the bomb threat that was called in on the day you were meant to present legislation that would make it easier for us to be the city’s heroes?”

“I would call that a coincidence.” He shifts under that familiar feeling of exhaustion, trying to shake it.

“I would call that Miss Fortune.”

“Misfortune? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“You also lost your dry cleaning and I don’t see your car parked out there.” Mel rattles off, taking a sip of water.

“My keys went missing earlier, I ubered.” 

“It’s Miss Fortune.”

“Would you stop saying misfortune?” He glowers, pointing at something random on the menu when the server approaches for their orders.

“It’s not misfortune. It’s Miss. Fortune.” She emphasizes the last two words and scoots the file towards him. 

But when he goes to reach for it, the mechanics in his arm freeze. A sharp whirring noise comes from his arm, almost like grinding metal and he deftly punches the pressure points that the Dora Milaje often took advantage of, causing the arm to drop from his shirt sleeve to the ground in silence. Mel’s eyes darted from the file still laying on the table to Bucky’s missing limb.

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything.” She bites back her amusement while Bucky looks over his metal arm before re-attaching it, “does that…happen often?”

“There’s been some performance issues. But that’s new.”

“Okay now would be the time to look at the file and maybe use your good hand.” She must see the apprehension in his face because Mel pushes the file open before he can make a move. “I looked into your ex.  Actually I started looking  into her when you two first started dating.” “Jealous?” He jokes watching the way her cheeks flush with color, smiling in satisfaction.

“Hardly. You know Val has to pretend to be in control of everything. I couldn’t find anything, which is weird because everyone our age…my age… has a digital footprint.” Mel’s amendment reminds Bucky just how odd their dynamic would be, how odd it had been with her. He may be over 100 years old but he still felt like he was in his 30’s. Mel points to the first page ignoring his silence, “But then I found something.” 

Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Name: YFN YLN. Mutant Abilities: Fortune, Favor, and its counterparts. Code Name: Miss Fortune. It was an ID Card for some type of boarding school. She never brought up her past and Bucky was the last person to push someone for details like that. 

“What is this– she’s a mutant” Mel spoke at the same time as he found the words.

“So let me get this straight, we've got wizards, warlocks, aliens, and now mutants?”

“I mean, I doubt they like that term but yes, we’ve got gifted people…” Mel nods, “She’s causing your bad luck. What happened?”

“We broke up.” Bucky defends himself.

“Mutually?”

“We both needed a fresh start.” 

Just as the server approaches with their food, alarms start blaring and sprinklers start to pour. The file is mush by the time Mel yanks it back towards her and the lights in the restaurant flicker before going out completely. There’s vague yelling from the manager for everyone to stay calm and furious mutters about the building not being up to code.

“She’s here, right?” Bucky asks Mel over the din of the restaurant. “I have a feeling.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s nearby and something tells me she wasn’t so thrilled about the ‘fresh start’ .” Mel responds as the sprinklers slow to a trickle. “ I don’t know why you’d get us a table at the biggest window on the street. I bet she saw us together.” 

“It was supposed to be a blank page…” He sighs. 

After several moments, the manager apologizes that the lights would not be back on this evening, service is canceled and that they were all free to go. The restaurant goers slowly file out of the building yelling slurs and threatening to take to social media over it. Bucky guides Mel out and pushes her right back inside as a string of cars erupt into flames, gas tanks exploding as people scatter away from the danger.

“Thanks for meeting me here.” Mel smiles tightly while setting down her bag, a file and then finally shrugging her coat onto the back of her chair.

“Yeah, no problem. Is everything okay?” Bucky notes the shift in her demeanor, the way she glances out of the restaurant’s storefront window into the night.

“All good.” She cracks another smile as the server approaches for drink orders.

But Bucky isn’t stupid and Mel doesn’t just call him for casual dinners out, as much as he wishes she would sometimes. The server shifts to him expectantly and he repeats Mel’s drink order, gaining a ‘seriously’ look from her. He eyes the file, certain that whatever she called about is contained inside.

“How’ve you been?” Mel captures his attention again and a wave of exhaustion tugs him down. “You know, since the break up?”

“Everyone knows about that?”

“It’s absolutely my job to know everything that happens within the New Avengers. Val would kill me for anything less.” A real smile this time.

“I’m fine. Great, even.”

“And nothing weird has been happening?” She asks carefully, thanking the server when the drinks appear.

“You’ll need to be more specific. Our lives aren’t very normal.” The response earns him a frown and an eyeroll.

“Weird, Bucky. Like your apartment complex catching fire last week? Or maybe the bomb threat that was called in on the day you were meant to present legislation that would make it easier for us to be the city’s heroes?”

“I would call that a coincidence.” He shifts under that familiar feeling of exhaustion, trying to shake it.

“I would call that Miss Fortune.”

“Misfortune? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“You also lost your dry cleaning and I don’t see your car parked out there.” Mel rattles off, taking a sip of water.

“My keys went missing earlier, I ubered.” 

“It’s Miss Fortune.”

“Would you stop saying misfortune?” He glowers, pointing at something random on the menu when the server approaches for their orders.

“It’s not misfortune. It’s Miss. Fortune.” She emphasizes the last two words and scoots the file towards him. 

But when he goes to reach for it, the mechanics in his arm freeze. A sharp whirring noise comes from his arm, almost like grinding metal and he deftly punches the pressure points that the Dora Milaje often took advantage of, causing the arm to drop from his shirt sleeve to the ground in silence. Mel’s eyes darted from the file still laying on the table to Bucky’s missing limb.

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything.” She bites back her amusement while Bucky looks over his metal arm before re-attaching it, “does that…happen often?”

“There’s been some performance issues. But that’s new.”

“Okay now would be the time to look at the file and maybe use your good hand.” She must see the apprehension in his face because Mel pushes the file open before he can make a move. “I looked into your ex.  Actually I started looking  into her when you two first started dating.” “Jealous?” He jokes watching the way her cheeks flush with color, smiling in satisfaction.

“Hardly. You know Val has to pretend to be in control of everything. I couldn’t find anything, which is weird because everyone our age…my age… has a digital footprint.” Mel’s amendment reminds Bucky just how odd their dynamic would be, how odd it had been with her. He may be over 100 years old but he still felt like he was in his 30’s. Mel points to the first page ignoring his silence, “But then I found something.” 

Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Name: YFN YLN. Mutant Abilities: Fortune, Favor, and its counterparts. Code Name: Miss Fortune. It was an ID Card for some type of boarding school. She never brought up her past and Bucky was the last person to push someone for details like that. 

“What is this– she’s a mutant” Mel spoke at the same time as he found the words.

“So let me get this straight, we've got wizards, warlocks, aliens, and now mutants?”

“I mean, I doubt they like that term but yes, we’ve got gifted people…” Mel nods, “She’s causing your bad luck. What happened?”

“We broke up.” Bucky defends himself.

“Mutually?”

“We both needed a fresh start.” 

Just as the server approaches with their food, alarms start blaring and sprinklers start to pour. The file is mush by the time Mel yanks it back towards her and the lights in the restaurant flicker before going out completely. There’s vague yelling from the manager for everyone to stay calm and furious mutters about the building not being up to code.

“She’s here, right?” Bucky asks Mel over the din of the restaurant. “I have a feeling.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s nearby and something tells me she wasn’t so thrilled about the ‘fresh start’ .” Mel responds as the sprinklers slow to a trickle. “ I don’t know why you’d get us a table at the biggest window on the street. I bet she saw us together.” 

“It was supposed to be a blank page…” He sighs. 

After several moments, the manager apologizes that the lights would not be back on this evening, service is canceled and that they were all free to go. The restaurant goers slowly file out of the building yelling slurs and threatening to take to social media over it. Bucky guides Mel out and pushes her right back inside as a string of cars erupt into flames, gas tanks exploding as people scatter away from the danger.

“Thanks for meeting me here.” Mel smiles tightly while setting down her bag, a file and then finally shrugging her coat onto the back of her chair.

“Yeah, no problem. Is everything okay?” Bucky notes the shift in her demeanor, the way she glances out of the restaurant’s storefront window into the night.

“All good.” She cracks another smile as the server approaches for drink orders.

But Bucky isn’t stupid and Mel doesn’t just call him for casual dinners out, as much as he wishes she would sometimes. The server shifts to him expectantly and he repeats Mel’s drink order, gaining a ‘seriously’ look from her. He eyes the file, certain that whatever she called about is contained inside.

“How’ve you been?” Mel captures his attention again and a wave of exhaustion tugs him down. “You know, since the break up?”

“Everyone knows about that?”

“It’s absolutely my job to know everything that happens within the New Avengers. Val would kill me for anything less.” A real smile this time.

“I’m fine. Great, even.”

“And nothing weird has been happening?” She asks carefully, thanking the server when the drinks appear.

“You’ll need to be more specific. Our lives aren’t very normal.” The response earns him a frown and an eyeroll.

“Weird, Bucky. Like your apartment complex catching fire last week? Or maybe the bomb threat that was called in on the day you were meant to present legislation that would make it easier for us to be the city’s heroes?”

“I would call that a coincidence.” He shifts under that familiar feeling of exhaustion, trying to shake it.

“I would call that Miss Fortune.”

“Misfortune? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“You also lost your dry cleaning and I don’t see your car parked out there.” Mel rattles off, taking a sip of water.

“My keys went missing earlier, I ubered.” 

“It’s Miss Fortune.”

“Would you stop saying misfortune?” He glowers, pointing at something random on the menu when the server approaches for their orders.

“It’s not misfortune. It’s Miss. Fortune.” She emphasizes the last two words and scoots the file towards him. 

But when he goes to reach for it, the mechanics in his arm freeze. A sharp whirring noise comes from his arm, almost like grinding metal and he deftly punches the pressure points that the Dora Milaje often took advantage of, causing the arm to drop from his shirt sleeve to the ground in silence. Mel’s eyes darted from the file still laying on the table to Bucky’s missing limb.

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything.” She bites back her amusement while Bucky looks over his metal arm before re-attaching it, “does that…happen often?”

“There’s been some performance issues. But that’s new.”

“Okay now would be the time to look at the file and maybe use your good hand.” She must see the apprehension in his face because Mel pushes the file open before he can make a move. “I looked into your ex.  Actually I started looking  into her when you two first started dating.” “Jealous?” He jokes watching the way her cheeks flush with color, smiling in satisfaction.

“Hardly. You know Val has to pretend to be in control of everything. I couldn’t find anything, which is weird because everyone our age…my age… has a digital footprint.” Mel’s amendment reminds Bucky just how odd their dynamic would be, how odd it had been with her. He may be over 100 years old but he still felt like he was in his 30’s. Mel points to the first page ignoring his silence, “But then I found something.” 

Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Name: YFN YLN. Mutant Abilities: Fortune, Favor, and its counterparts. Code Name: Miss Fortune. It was an ID Card for some type of boarding school. She never brought up her past and Bucky was the last person to push someone for details like that. 

“What is this– she’s a mutant” Mel spoke at the same time as he found the words.

“So let me get this straight, we've got wizards, warlocks, aliens, and now mutants?”

“I mean, I doubt they like that term but yes, we’ve got gifted people…” Mel nods, “She’s causing your bad luck. What happened?”

“We broke up.” Bucky defends himself.

“Mutually?”

“We both needed a fresh start.” 

Just as the server approaches with their food, alarms start blaring and sprinklers start to pour. The file is mush by the time Mel yanks it back towards her and the lights in the restaurant flicker before going out completely. There’s vague yelling from the manager for everyone to stay calm and furious mutters about the building not being up to code.

“She’s here, right?” Bucky asks Mel over the din of the restaurant. “I have a feeling.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s nearby and something tells me she wasn’t so thrilled about the ‘fresh start’ .” Mel responds as the sprinklers slow to a trickle. “ I don’t know why you’d get us a table at the biggest window on the street. I bet she saw us together.” 

“It was supposed to be a blank page…” He sighs. 

After several moments, the manager apologizes that the lights would not be back on this evening, service is canceled and that they were all free to go. The restaurant goers slowly file out of the building yelling slurs and threatening to take to social media over it. Bucky guides Mel out and pushes her right back inside as a string of cars erupt into flames, gas tanks exploding as people scatter away from the danger.

“Thanks for meeting me here.” Mel smiles tightly while setting down her bag, a file and then finally shrugging her coat onto the back of her chair.

“Yeah, no problem. Is everything okay?” Bucky notes the shift in her demeanor, the way she glances out of the restaurant’s storefront window into the night.

“All good.” She cracks another smile as the server approaches for drink orders.

But Bucky isn’t stupid and Mel doesn’t just call him for casual dinners out, as much as he wishes she would sometimes. The server shifts to him expectantly and he repeats Mel’s drink order, gaining a ‘seriously’ look from her. He eyes the file, certain that whatever she called about is contained inside.

“How’ve you been?” Mel captures his attention again and a wave of exhaustion tugs him down. “You know, since the break up?”

“Everyone knows about that?”

“It’s absolutely my job to know everything that happens within the New Avengers. Val would kill me for anything less.” A real smile this time.

“I’m fine. Great, even.”

“And nothing weird has been happening?” She asks carefully, thanking the server when the drinks appear.

“You’ll need to be more specific. Our lives aren’t very normal.” The response earns him a frown and an eyeroll.

“Weird, Bucky. Like your apartment complex catching fire last week? Or maybe the bomb threat that was called in on the day you were meant to present legislation that would make it easier for us to be the city’s heroes?”

“I would call that a coincidence.” He shifts under that familiar feeling of exhaustion, trying to shake it.

“I would call that Miss Fortune.”

“Misfortune? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?”

“You also lost your dry cleaning and I don’t see your car parked out there.” Mel rattles off, taking a sip of water.

“My keys went missing earlier, I ubered.” 

“It’s Miss Fortune.”

“Would you stop saying misfortune?” He glowers, pointing at something random on the menu when the server approaches for their orders.

“It’s not misfortune. It’s Miss. Fortune.” She emphasizes the last two words and scoots the file towards him. 

But when he goes to reach for it, the mechanics in his arm freeze. A sharp whirring noise comes from his arm, almost like grinding metal and he deftly punches the pressure points that the Dora Milaje often took advantage of, causing the arm to drop from his shirt sleeve to the ground in silence. Mel’s eyes darted from the file still laying on the table to Bucky’s missing limb.

“Don’t say it.”

“I’m not saying anything.” She bites back her amusement while Bucky looks over his metal arm before re-attaching it, “does that…happen often?”

“There’s been some performance issues. But that’s new.”

“Okay now would be the time to look at the file and maybe use your good hand.” She must see the apprehension in his face because Mel pushes the file open before he can make a move. “I looked into your ex.  Actually I started looking  into her when you two first started dating.” “Jealous?” He jokes watching the way her cheeks flush with color, smiling in satisfaction.

“Hardly. You know Val has to pretend to be in control of everything. I couldn’t find anything, which is weird because everyone our age…my age… has a digital footprint.” Mel’s amendment reminds Bucky just how odd their dynamic would be, how odd it had been with her. He may be over 100 years old but he still felt like he was in his 30’s. Mel points to the first page ignoring his silence, “But then I found something.” 

Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Name: YFN YLN. Mutant Abilities: Fortune, Favor, and its counterparts. Code Name: Miss Fortune. It was an ID Card for some type of boarding school. She never brought up her past and Bucky was the last person to push someone for details like that. 

“What is this– she’s a mutant” Mel spoke at the same time as he found the words.

“So let me get this straight, we've got wizards, warlocks, aliens, and now mutants?”

“I mean, I doubt they like that term but yes, we’ve got gifted people…” Mel nods, “She’s causing your bad luck. What happened?”

“We broke up.” Bucky defends himself.

“Mutually?”

“We both needed a fresh start.” 

Just as the server approaches with their food, alarms start blaring and sprinklers start to pour. The file is mush by the time Mel yanks it back towards her and the lights in the restaurant flicker before going out completely. There’s vague yelling from the manager for everyone to stay calm and furious mutters about the building not being up to code.

“She’s here, right?” Bucky asks Mel over the din of the restaurant. “I have a feeling.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s nearby and something tells me she wasn’t so thrilled about the ‘fresh start’ .” Mel responds as the sprinklers slow to a trickle. “ I don’t know why you’d get us a table at the biggest window on the street. I bet she saw us together.” 

“It was supposed to be a blank page…” He sighs. 

After several moments, the manager apologizes that the lights would not be back on this evening, service is canceled and that they were all free to go. The restaurant goers slowly file out of the building yelling slurs and threatening to take to social media over it. Bucky guides Mel out and pushes her right back inside as a string of cars erupt into flames, gas tanks exploding as people scatter away from the danger.