#2kbollywood

Harsh light pierced the nothingness behind closed eyes. You heard steady beeping and a few far-off voices. Painfully, you opened your eyes and saw Sam grasping your hand. He’d fallen asleep. A smile spread across your face as you spoke. “Hey, you.”

Stirring, Sam woke and stared at you in awe. “Oh thank God.”

“God?”

“Don’t question it right now.”

Without another word, he stood up and kissed you, first on the lips and then on the nose and forehead. “I thought I lost you.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” you replied, wincing as you tried to maneuver in the uncomfortable hospital bed. You knew you’d heal faster than the average person, but what you could only assume to be numerous broken bones, was not a walk in the park to say the least. “What happened? I know one of the guys cut my chute. I remember feeling you grasp onto me but then the cords wrapped around your hand, and then nothing.”

Apparently, after Sam lost his grasp, you fell into a patch of trees. Numerous branches had broken your fall, but also two bones in your non-dominant arm, your left tibia and numerous toes. Between that and a concussion, it wasn’t a surprise why you felt like you’d been hit by an 18-wheeler and then backed over again. As you’d guessed earlier, Nat had an escape plan underground, where Fury had people waiting to pick you up. “Sidorov?”

“Fucker’s with Fury now.”

“Unlucky for him.” Sam clasped your hand in his. He was relieved but there was still something eating at him. “Sam, look at me. This is not your fault. I’m going to be okay.”

“I know,” he said, continuing with a gruff laugh. “I prayed to God. I asked him not to do this to me again. Not after Riley.”

“So, do you feel like he answered your prayers?”

Sam pondered your question for a moment. “I don’t know, honestly. I want to, but if I do it makes me wonder why he was listening now and not with Riley.”

“Believe in what makes you feel free, Sam. What brings you peace.”

“Is it too cheesy if I say you?” He asked, giving you a megawatt, cheesy smile. You nodded. “Okay, how about people? Without Stark’s upgrades to my suit, I might not have gotten to you at all.”

“People it is.”

After talking to the doctors, who determined you’d probably be good to go within the week, you felt the jet touch down. You hadn’t even realized you were on the jet. Frankly, you hadn’t questioned it. “We’re home?”

“Yea,” he said. “We’re home. But you are going straight from this hospital room to one on the ground.”

As you were wheeled off, you caught sight of Fury. “How is there a hospital on this jet?”

----

More than anything, you wanted to go back to Stark Tower. That was home now. But Banner’s not-so-professional second opinion was that you should stay in the hospital until you were well again. You wanted to put up a fight, say that he didn’t have an MD, just a billion PhDs, but you were too worn out for more fighting. “Sam, would you mind grabbing some things from my room?”

Without a word or complaint, he kissed your forehead and left to grab a few changes of clothes, as well as your lamp and your murti. You were alive, again, despite the seemingly impossible circumstances.

When he returned, he placed the murti at the foot of your bed. “I picked a flower for you, but I don’t think you can use it for your prayers. If I remember right,” he said, putting the stem of the rose between his teeth.

“Why not? Where’d you get it from?”

“Stole it from a vase of flowers Tony was gonna give to Pepper. He’s down one flower.”

You snorted so hard you hurt yourself. “That’s my man. And you’re right, I can’t, but you can be all romantic and tuck it behind my ear.” With everything set for your evening prayers, you gave Sam a kiss and told him he could go and get some sleep.

“Oh, no way, jaanu,” he said softly. “I’m staying right here till you come home. Want me to pray with you?”

“Do you want to?”

A relationship, or gasp!, love had never really been in the plans, until that morning at the Washington monument, bonding with a man named Sam Wilson about the infuriating whirlwind that was the 30-minute, 13-mile Steve Rogers. “He’s insufferable, right?” You asked, breaths heavy yet steady at your pace.

“Unbearable,” he laughed, letting go of the competition with Steve to hang back with you. “You’re Agni, right? New Avenger?”

“Been with them for about two years now, so not new. But newer. And the name’s Y/N. And despite the “A” it’s pronounced ‘ugh-nee. It’s the Sanskrit word for fire.” He smiled; impressed.

You’d never felt the need to hide your story – how you became who you were - but what Sam said next took you aback. “Sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks,” you replied, smiling fondly at the memory of her perfectly imperfect smile and shining brown eyes. “I can’t say for sure why I made it out and she didn’t. All I know is what I believe. I plan to do right by her memory.”

“That’s really admirable,” he said genuinely. “I lost someone too, and I think it broke my faith. I admire anyone who can keep it.”

“I have to,” you replied. “My faith grounds me.”

----

It was your distinct differences in regards to loss and faith that drew you closer. Sam was consistently inspired by your ability to hold onto something so intangible as faith when you’d lost so much. After every mission, you all needed to decompress, and you decompressed in your own unique ways, but time and time again, the two of you spent your time together, watching bad movies, eating popcorn, playing pool – or more accurately kicking Sam’s ass at pool – but hey.

Though he’d lost his faith in God, you’d encouraged him not to lose faith all together, instead channeling that belief into something tangible. “What do you mean?”

“Well, faith is a shaky thing for some people. Because you can’t see it. What can you see? What can you see that you believe in?”

“This team. People. I believe in people.”

“Then that’s where your faith lies. You still have it; it’s just changed course.”

“How are you so wise?” He asked with a laugh.

“Just gifted, I suppose.” Leaning over, you kissed the underside of his chin. Somehow, through all this, you’d just found each other. There’d never been any official discussion of what you were to each other – you just knew. He was your best friend and confidant; the man you loved. Another blessing you were sure. There was no animosity between you and anyone else on the team; you got along with everyone, but you found solace in Sam, and he in you.

No one questioned it either. Not even Tony. Though he poked fun every now and then, which you would of course return, because he had Pepper. After a week without any action, you were almost starting to feel left out, until you, Sam, Nat and Steve were called on a mission.

At the rendezvous point, Fury briefed you on your mission. “Pieter Sidorov,” he said, looking straight toward Natasha. “You know him, right?”

“The Russian scientist and mass murderer? Yea, I’m familiar with his work. Rescue mission?”

“Extraction. We still don’t like the guy. He’s still a grade-A asshole. But after the fall of Hydra here, everyone left that’s loyal has gone into hiding. And Sidorov is aiding what’s left of Hydra within KGB airspace. I need the four of you to get him and bring him back. We need him alive.”

The four of you nodded simultaneously, your mission clear. With the help of a few still-trusted SHIELD pilots, you made your way into former KGB airspace. “Okay, what’s the game plan?” Sam asked, already outfitted in the new and improved EXO suit; Tony had made a few adjustments in the likely case one or both of the wings were damaged, so hopefully he would never be down for the count again. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Pieter Sidorov is a fucking genius. When you have that kind of intelligence, you go one of two ways, good guy or the worst guy. Guess which Sidorov is?” Nat started. “Anyway, he has no superpowers himself. It’s his suit. He developed a suit that allows him to suck the powers, and essentially life, from other super-powered people.”

“What can he do?” You asked. “He’s just any regular guy without the suit, but with? What do we have to look forward to?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, rattling off the list of abilities the suit imbued him with – telekinesis and telepathy. “With, obviously, the added bonus of sucking whatever powers you and Steve have,” she said, tilting her chin toward you. “So if he’s got the suit, don’t get caught.”

“Thanks, Nat,” you laughed. “We go in teams of two, yea?”

Tony and Steve were your de facto leaders, so you all looked to Steve for your assignments. “Yea. Nat and I will infiltrate the right side, you and Sam go left. Nat will hack us into the system and shoot the map of the inside of the helicarrier to your watches. You might think we need the suit too, but we don’t. It’s programmed to work with his DNA. Without him the suit is useless. We take everyone out in our way and grab Sidorov, unharmed, and bring him back to Fury. From there –“ He hesitated. “From there, I don’t want to know what Fury’s gonna do with him.”

You trusted Fury, but he was definitely a scary man. “Me either.”

“All of us will leave the way Nat and I went in. Sam, make sure your wings are operational. The rest of us, make sure our parachutes are ready to go. As soon as the pilots make the drop off, they’re out. When we hit the ground, Nat has a way out.”

“What way?” Sam asked. “Car, bus, train?” She didn’t answer, her face showing no indication of releasing her secret. “Secret underground base?”

When she raised her eyebrow, you and Sam exclaimed at the same time. “Shut the fuck up.”

Smiling, Steve ensured that everyone had their orders. “Alright,” he said, turning toward you and Sam as the pilot pulled into the hellicarrier’s airspace. “See you two on the other side. Be careful.”

“You too, Cap,” you said quietly.

After Steve and Nat jumped onto the roof of the carrier and made their way inside, the pilots swung around the left, letting you and Sam out before speeding away under the cloak of night. “Back me up,” you said softly.

“Always.” Your back was to him but he spoke with a smile. “Ten o’clock.” Sam hid in the shadows as a man, presumably a guard, approached. Your size, and apparently boobs, always made men underestimate you, leaving you the perfect opportunity to slip them into a chokehold and wait until they passed out.

The moment the guard fell to the floor, Sam emerged from the dark hallway. “Have I told you how sexy that is?” He asked.

“Not now, Sam,” you laughed. “But yes. And please tell me more when we get the fuck out of here.”

Within a minute of knocking the guard out, Nat had uploaded the map to your watches. Unfortunately, it also alerted the entire crew on board to your presence. You figured that would happen. “Alright, stay at the ready,” Sam spoke. “How many people on this helicarrier?”

“About 500.”

“Fuckin wonderful.”

Quickly, you glanced down at the map on your watch, charting the quickest and easiest way to where they were keeping Sidorov. “Right in the middle. Great. They’re coming after us either way. Wanna stealth it or make an entrance?” You asked.

“Baby, do you even have to ask?” Sam laughed.

“Entrance it is.” As you charged forward, Sam followed your lead, handling any stragglers that happened to make it beyond your wall of fire. Those that didn’t run scared, fell victim to your wrath, dissolving into piles of ash snaking through the grates at your feet.

From the opposite end of the vessel, you heard the cacophony of screaming voices. Of course, Steve and Nat were holding their own just fine.

A nearly 300-pound, 6 foot tall Russian made his way past you. Big dude, but agile as hell. He’d assumed you were the strength out of you and Sam, disregarding him to try and take you out. But that was his mistake. As the man put you in a chokehold, Sam pulled out a knife, dropping down and slicing both of his Achilles before spin-kicking him in the face and over the railing. “Thanks, babe.”

“No problem. Let’s go. I want outta here.”

Your well-oiled machine moved swiftly through the maze-like hallways. You’d have a few cuts and bruises, but since joining the Avengers, that was pretty much Tuesday. As you approached the room where Sidorov was being kept, you made your silent prayers for the successful completion of this mission. You’d always prayed beforehand, in one way or another, but in the thick of it, you couldn’t help but offer up a few more silent prayers.

Melting the metal doors before you, Sam barreled past you and grabbed Sidorov, before running straight into Nat and Steve. Sidorov’s eyes sparked with a hint of recognition. “Natasha?”

“Aww, so sweet, you remember. You’re coming with us.”

Steve took the front lines of your escape route, using his shield to push over everyone in his way, while Nat and Sam handled the scientist and you kept an eye on your six. “You ready to jump?” You yelled, wind whipping your skin as Nat opened the door they’d entered. She pushed Sidorov out, sans parachute, and was followed quickly by Steve, leaving you and Sam to bring up the rear.

“Go!” Sam screamed.

Despite having jumped out of planes with the team before, it never got any easier. As you sailed through the air, you chanced a glance back and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Sam jump too, only to watch a hook pierce the middle of his wings, ripping them off, and knocking him off balance. He spiraled in mid-air; you screamed into the wind, unable to do anything else but pray Tony’s upgrades kicked in.

Turning your attention toward the rapidly-increasing ground below, you waited for the right moment to deploy your parachute. When you ripped the cord, the parachute deployed, but apparently during your scuffle with the Russian guards, one of them had managed to slash it.

“Fuck!” Your heart raced as the ground approached, bracing for impact.

----

Sam panicked for a moment before his backup wings exploded out of the back of the EXO, giving him control once again. When he looked down, he saw his worst nightmare. “Not again. God, not again.” Y/N was fast approaching the earth with a slit parachute; she had a healing factor sure, but there would be nothing to heal if she pancaked into the pavement.

He retracted his wings and sped toward the ground, his hand stretched out in an attempt to grab her, the parachute, anything that might soften the fall. “Please God, don’t do this to me.”

To say that your life took a different turn than you expected was an understatement to say the very least. As a child, watching your mother and father, you’d fully intended to become a surgeon, a brain surgeon specifically, but after that day in the alleyway, you knew you’d been chosen for a different purpose.

Even your father knew it. At first, he’d been frightened by your newfound abilities, denying their existence, but when you exploded at him, begging him to believe, and he saw the fire in your eyes, he knew you’d been telling the truth. “This is why you were saved, beta. I know it.”

From that day on, you trained. You trained in every martial art you could think of, your father even seeking out the best trainers to help you under the guise of ‘keeping my daughter safe in an unsafe world.’ Every day you honed your fire abilities, ensuring that even under the most crazed of circumstances, you could control them.

You became a doctor anyway, fostering your mind as well as your body, hoping to help others in any and every way. Instead of going into neurosurgery, you pursued orthopedics, serving people from all walks of life all around the world – from New York City to Afghanistan to India and back.

Fire and strength lingered in your very being, but you only utilized your abilities when trouble found you; you didn’t go looking for it. Stopping gangbangers, frightening a rapist here and there, even pushing back against a few dates who got a little too handsy and didn’t want to take the hint. But that was it.

Until New York 2012.

Watching aliens pop out of a wormhole in the sky put your seemingly ‘weird’ powers into perspective. Apparently, it was just the tip of the iceberg. Others like yourself - a man who could summon lightning, a giant green dude, Tony Stark – they all flew around the city, saving citizens one by one, and you’d jumped right in at their sides, helping to extract patients from the hospital to hand off to one of the masked superheroes.

It was shortly after that you heard that the Avengers, as they became known, were looking for new recruits, people similar to yourself with gifts others could only dream of. Offering puja to your Krishna murti that night, you asked for his guidance. Was this your path? Was this what you’d been saved for all those years ago?

With deep breaths, you lifted your hands, palm-to-palm, against your chest, listening for an answer. As you waited intently, a peace washed over you unlike anything you’d felt before, warmth blanketing you like the sun on your skin. The fire you’d grown accustomed to licked at your fingers, wisps of smoke following in their wake.

This is what you were meant to do.

----

Apparently, most of the people that had come to test their abilities alongside the Avengers were new to the whole thing to say the least. They were untrained, unfocused, undisciplined. And while even the Avengers as a team still had some tweaking to do within their ranks - settle petty squabbles, learn to work together seamlessly – they didn’t have the time to hone someone’s skill.

When you walked through the doors of Stark Tower that day, you knew who you were, what you could do, and how to control it. They put you through rigorous obstacles, watched you fight, talked with you one-on-one. They’d all asked you why you wanted to be on the team. And you told them – you wanted to help. After all that you’d lost, you had to believe that Bhagwan had saved you for a reason. You had to believe there was a point to the pain you’d endured.

As you showed them the true extent of your abilities, Steve looked on in awe at the flames that licked at your skin. Bruce studied you. Thor nodded in appreciation. Coming from Asgard, your abilities were probably nothing to him, but he smiled nonetheless. Natasha looked unimpressed; however, the slightest twitch in her smile and a shrug of her shoulders told you all you needed to know. Clint’s mouth dropped open in amazement, saying something about being armed with a bow and arrow while you had flames coming from your arms. And Tony, well Tony just raised an eyebrow before glancing toward the rest of the team, a silent agreement forming between them.

“Welcome to the team, Y/N,” he said, walking up behind you and clapping you on the back. “We’re going to have to come up with a cool superhero name.” He clapped his hands together and smiled. “Anyone have any ideas?”

----

In the ensuing year or so, you became known as Agni, after accompanying Tony on a mission to the Middle East. To right some wrongs. Surrounded by enemy combatants, you tapped into your power with a ferocity even you hadn’t experienced yet, flames coating your entire body as you channeled it toward each and every one of them, frying them in place while Tony focused on the civilians.

With each mission, you became more and more sure in your purpose, continuing to devote yourself to Krishna and thank him for showing you the way. You knew where your life was headed. Until it threw an unexpected, yet welcomed wrench in your plans.

It had started off like any other day in New York City, except it wasn’t any other day. On this day, you’d accompanied your mother and father to work. You’d been waiting for months to go with them to the hospital, to see what they did, and watch what you would do too when you were old enough and out of school.

Alongside your parents, you gave offerings to Krishna murti, setting a flower picked from your yard, a ghee lamp and incense at the feet of the murti. As the mantra passed your lips, you thanked Him for the honor you were about to receive.

“Ready, beta?” Your mother said, smiling proudly upon you.

Excitedly, you nodded, standing tall between your parents on the labyrinthian subway ride to the hospital, knowing nothing about how your life would soon be changed forever.

----

Among the sterile hallways of the vast building, you felt vitality, blood pulsing through your veins as you watched your parents perform surgeries through the glass partitions. Despite your young age, their bloodied hands didn’t scare you; you knew the heroics they performed each and every day.

After a lunch break with them both, during which time you regaled them with knowledge that they’d one day have a brain surgeon in the family, you returned to watch your mother work – performing a triple bypass on an older gentleman.

Underneath your feet, you felt a quick thud, like the bass drum of the music you loved – registering it and moving on. Before you could glance back up, the floor gave way, debris pelting you from all directions as the flames consumed you.

----

Standing at the apex of the explosion, no one had expected you to make it out alive, no less make it out without a scratch. Everyone else in the area, including your mother, had been killed when the boilers exploded. “Why, baba?” You asked, hand engulfed by his as he sat at your bedside, in a different hospital a town over. “Why Ma and not me?”

Sadly, he grazed his fingers along your cheek. “I don’t know, beta. But I have to believe Bhagwan has a plan, and that he saved you for a reason.”

----

For many years, it wasn’t apparent to you why you would’ve been saved from the blaze. Without your mother, you retreated into yourself, becoming angrier and angrier at Bhagwan, everyone, the world. You should’ve been consumed by fire. But you left the hospital without a burn in sight.

As you got older, you noticed things moving without the slightest pressure on your part. And occasionally, you’d get a small cut and have it disappear within what seemed like minutes. But you didn’t think anything of it. You were growing, still a kid in most senses, so maybe you just had a really amazing immune system.

It wasn’t until nearly five years later, when you were just on the cusp of your 16th birthday, that you found the reason – the purpose He had for you. Walking home from school, you heard a woman screaming, gasping for air as she begged whoever was nearby to leave her alone. Approaching the noise, you peeked around the corner of the alley to see an imposing man, who had to be well over six feet, towering over a small woman, probably no more than five years older than you.

When he put his hand on her, your blood boiled and without thinking, you came out from your hiding spot and screamed. “Leave her alone!”

The man looked at you with a sinister sneer, easing his grasp on the young woman and turning his full attention toward you. “Run along, little one,” he said condescendingly, waving you off as the woman stared at you in terror, her eyes brimming with tears. “Go back to school.”

“I’m going home from school actually,” you said without thought for the consequences. You should’ve been scared, but it’s like you were imbued with purpose. This moment – right now. “Get your hands off her.”

Turning from the young woman, he reeled back and punched her in face, undoubtedly planning on dealing with you before he returned to her, but as he approached, you didn’t sink into yourself. You cemented yourself in place, pushing against him with all of your might the moment he was within your reach.

Taken aback, you watched as the man flew nearly 30 feet forward, hitting his leg against the brick wall of the alleyway. A string of curses flew from his lips as he got up, ready to charge at you again, when a searing heat curled its way around your hands and arms, stopping him in place. Tales had been told of superheroes before. But they were just stories, right? Why you?

Shakily, you lifted your arms and held them in front of your body, challenging the man to test you. But he didn’t. In astonishment, he stepped back, his eyes drifting toward the young woman who was attempting to get up. When you saw him weighing the possibilities, debating whether or not to go after her or run, you ran forward and screamed, an intense firestorm barreling toward him.

When the flames dissipated, he was gone, his footsteps getting further and further away by the second. Turning, you saw the young woman, eyes wide, but not afraid. “What-what are you?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled in reply. Is this why Bhagwan had saved you?

----

As steel gray fell unhindered against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, Sam felt his grip on reality - everything he’d come to know – slip through his fingertips. Flying toward the ground at breakneck speed, Sam retracted the wings of the EXO-7 Falcon and bounded toward Riley, who was tumbling head over heels, careening toward the sea of sand and stone below. “Please, God,” he muttered, his face stinging against the hardened wind. “Please.”

Screaming toward the approaching earth, Sam dove as fast as his body would take him. Blood pounded in his ears; his muscles alight with fire. No matter how fast he willed his body to move, he remained suspended in the air, watching as Riley smashed into the ground below.

On reflex alone, Sam extended the EXO’s wings and glided into the ground, watching as his fellow troops descended upon Riley’s disfigured form. Falling to his knees, he let out a blood-curdling scream, only able to look on helplessly as his fellow soldiers attempted to resuscitate him – but it was to no avail.

He was already gone.

-----

In the days and weeks after Riley’s death, Sam found himself going about his life in a daze - as if the world stood still and he moved through it, slow as molasses out of a bottle. Nothing anyone said penetrated. Nothing anyone said mattered. Unwilling to put anyone else in danger because of his ‘inability to deal,’ he returned home.

Though he felt grateful to return to his loved ones, to see his mother again, he walked around in constant anger. Not sadness, but anger. And he couldn’t understand why. Until his mother spoke. “Go speak to Jesus,” she’d said. “He’ll help you through this.” It took every ounce of strength to keep himself from snapping at his mother. Instead, he turned his anger to where it truly belonged.

Excusing himself, he moved through the streets of Harlem with a purpose he hadn’t felt for many years. When the deep-red brick, mottled from years of neglect and the elements, came into sight, Sam clenched his fists, unable to stave off the broiling anger rolling through him. He walked up the stairs and through the heavy wooden doors, eyes welling up with unshed tears.

When he was a kid, he remembered feeling welcome there, among the bright, white walls, delicate stained glass and red upholstered, wooden chairs. But in that moment, he had tunnel vision, everything around him blurring into nothingness as he stared down the statue before his eyes. If a glare could destroy, the statue would crumble. “Never again,” he breathed through clenched teeth.

Sam ignored Sharon’s lack of answer and kept glancing curiously out the window of the car, trying to understand where they were driving to. Bucky sat quietly in the backseat because, in his words, Sam is an asshole and just thrives on making the ex-assassin’s life miserable.

“Are you trying to bring us out of town to kill us?” Sam asked again and for just a second Sharon actually considered the way of murder, only to refrain at the last minute because she still needed the new Captain America.

Only thinking about that name made her shiver, knowing how it had ended with Steve.

She shook her head: they had more pressing problems than thinking about him and Sharon had never been one to let herself be swayed by the past. What’s done is done.

“Sam can you stop moving?!” Bucky’s irritated tone shocked Sharon out of her thoughts. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she could see Bucky’s scowl and him pushing on the back of Sam’s seat.

“Listen, oldie, you might be comfortable with being immobile for long times but I ain’t no you and my ass is falling asleep,” Sam said, moving even more, “We’ve been driving for more than half an hour”

“Half an hour, birdie, half an hour!” screamed Bucky, on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

“Oh my God, shut up” Sharon yelled, abruptly turning on a secondary road and making both Sam and Bucky panic and grab whatever they could to keep themselves in the car.

Their eyes were the size of dinner plates but at least they were both silent, just glaring at each other occasionally. Sharon kept her eyes on the road, face contorted in a scowl of her own. “We’re almost there,” she said firmly.

The car was now travelling down a deserted and dusty road, with sparse trees all around and very few houses, which looked almost all abandoned. Curiosity was eating Sam and Bucky alive even more than when Sharon had announced she knew someone who could help with their last predicament: apparently Zemo was making his return and bringing with him an old society. They had risen from the dead and were trying to grow and gain supporters. They called themselves Cobra.

Bucky had rolled his eyes at the name.

“Is that a house?” Sam questioned when the car slowed down in front of a big house, dirty white, with a wide porch and a maroon door. There wasn't a soul in sight.

“Wow, Sam,” exclaimed Sharon, eyes bright this time, “You can be really perceptive.” She stopped the car and got out. Just as she did that, the door of the house opened and someone walked out, a shotgun in their hands. “Who’s there?!”

“It’s me and two friends, Y/n/n”

“You have no idea how close I was to shooting you, Carter” you yelled, making Sharon laugh.

Sam and Bucky shared a confused glance and then followed the blonde agent out of the car and up to the house. It was a quiet place - one where Bucky would love to live - and the only threatening thing in probably miles seemed to be the shotgun Sharon’s friend was holding. Bucky knew that asking himself how this place could give them answers for their mission wasn't smart because he was probably setting himself up for a big surprise, but he couldn't not wonder.

“Guys,” Sharon started, side hugging you, “This is Y/n, an old friend. Y/n, these are Sam and Bucky”

You nodded, still holding the shotgun and smiled at them. It was in that moment that Bucky noticed: you were blind and there was absolutely nothing more common than yourself.

“So, why are you here?” you asked, tilting your head towards Sharon. Sam seemed to have accepted your normality but Bucky knew something wasn't adding up. Your eyes, even unseeing, seemed way smarter than how you presented yourself and you were behaving like a threat was going to jump out at every second.

“Can we come in?” Sharon asked and your eyes narrowed for just a second before nodding and moving aside, letting all three of them inside. Then you stopped, tilted your head one last time and closed the door.

A growl coming from the living room stopped Sam in his tracks and Bucky almost collided with his back. He was ready to insult Sam when the same sound stopped him too and forced him to turn on his left. There, on the floor, stood a big, black dog that looked like a Terranova.

Bucky gulped and Sam almost hid behind him.

“Down, Atlas” you said, moving to pet the big guy. “He’s harmless,” you continued towards the living room window, slowly letting your fingers brush the windowsill, “Unless I tell him to attack”

“Nice to know” said Bucky, smiling tightly.

You smirked before turning again towards the window. Why you were doing that, Bucky couldn't understand but it was then that he noticed the glasses of water all over the surfaces of the house: windowsill, coffee table, mantel. He frowned.

“Why are you here, then?”

Sharon, who in the meantime had gone to greet Atlas, sat on the sofa. It was evident she’d been there many times before. “Cobra is back”

“What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, turning towards Sharon in the blink of an eye. Bucky thought you’d been close to give yourself whiplash. Your hold on the shotgun tightened and you took a deep breath before putting it down. “That’s not possible, I killed them all”

Well, that was interesting.

“Please guys, sit down” Sharon asked, moving a hand as invitation.

“Yeah, I’d love to but-” Sam started and Bucky turned to see him still watching Atlas’ every move. He snorted: so brave for being Captain America.

“Anyway,” you stressed, frowning and rapidly touching one of the numerous glasses of water closer to you, “Cobra has been demolished a long time ago, they can’t be back”

“I’m telling you, Y/n/n, they are, I’m sure” Sharon insisted, sitting up, “I was there…” She trailed on and a sort of silent agreement passed between her and you. Bucky and Sam observed, curiously glancing at the two and shrugging between themselves.

Bucky was more fascinated by you every minute that passed.

While he was drinking you in, you huffed, your frown deepening. “Have you been followed?”

“Nope” said Sam, crossing his arms.

You pursed your lips and looked straight at him, eyes void but strangely piercing. “That’s what you think”

“Fuck” muttered Sharon under her breath, already standing up and taking out her gun. She slowly moved towards the door when you signaled her to do it.

Bucky felt the strange need to interfere and address you. “We haven’t been followed, doll, I’m sure” he said, making you lift an eyebrow at the nickname.

“Well,” you took a deep breath, collected your shotgun and moved towards the door, “You might want to check better next time”

You moved next to Sharon with a certainty Bucky had almost never seen even in people with eyesight. Slowly she opened the door and as soon as you were out three guys appeared out of nowhere and attacked. Sharon engaged with one after her gun had been pushed away, while you used your shotgun more like a bat instead of actually shooting.

You moved effortlessly between two opponents, ducking and hitting in the right places.

Bucky and Sam were left with their mouths open - Bucky more than Sam, feeling the huge desire to get to know you, to speak with you, to touch you.

He swallowed but soon he had to put away his thoughts and join the fight. He concluded that he was probably so touch starved that his brain was able to depict all kinds of dirty imaginary.

Suddenly something flew at him: he easily recognised your shotgun. How you managed to throw it right at him was a mystery but he grabbed it nonetheless and shot at one of the agents, who fell on the ground immediately. It was time to put his abilities to work, unfortunately. Then he turned towards you when the last enemy standing was fighting with you. You threw a punch and he easily avoided it.

“Bucky don’t shoot” Sam screamed.

“No way, Sam?!” he screamed back, frustrated with himself.

The agent grabbed you by the neck and before anyone could do anything, you did the same and with a last smirk the man fell on the ground, presumably dead by the color of his skin.

“So,” you said, breathing hard, “You stopping for dinner?”

Bucky wasn't sure if he felt scared or aroused.

***

That night Bucky couldn't sleep. He kept turning in his bed and thinking about you, how you fought and the air of mystery that enveloped you; how he just wanted to bask in it. How did you do that?

He had wanted to ask you over dinner and the evening, time and time again, but Sharon appeared to be a bit overprotective and watched his every move. It was unnerving and more than once Bucky had wondered whether she had an interest in you, soon dismissing it when he had caught Sharon herself giggling on the phone with her new lover. Or so Sam had said - he loved gossip.

Maybe she was overprotective because of her experience with Steve.

He grimaced at the ceiling when he remembered that and finally decided to leave the comfort of his bed and go downstairs to have a glass of water. Soon he was turning the corner and entering the kitchen, being careful not to wake anyone. He went to open the fridge when something caught his eye from the window that gave on the backyard.

He blinked and got as close as he could to the window without risking being seen. Moving the curtain a bit, his eyes zeroed in on you, sat on the soft ground with drops of dew dancing in the air all around your body. Bucky was speechless.

He gulped, looking around for any sign of Sharon’s presence but there were none: this could be his chance.

Taking a deep breath, he walked out, already feeling the itch to get close to you. You exuded quietness, calling at the most deep, tortured parts of Bucky’s soul.

He cleared his throat when he was almost close enough to touch you and you smiled. It was soft, beautifully drenched in moonlight.

“Uh, hi” he muttered, swallowing hard when you turned your head up in the direction of his voice, offering the column of your neck to his greedy eyes. The more he looked at you, the more he felt mesmerized.

“Hello” you said, never losing your smile. Suddenly the dew in the air dissipated and you slouched down a bit into your position on the grass. “Do you wanna sit or-?”

Bucky fell to the ground even before you could finish the sentence and your smile grew in a knowing grin. He couldn't keep his eyes from you but he didn't even know what to say.

“Is it the blindness?”

Your question floored him. “W-what?”

Your smile was gentle, not judging. “You were looking at me quite often today. I felt it. Is it because I’m blind?”

“No!” he exclaimed immediately and moved a hand to touch you. A growl stopped him: Atlas was laying down on the grass not far from where you both were. Bucky gazed in the big eyes of the dog and retreated his hand. He cleared his throat. “It’s not that. I promise. I’m just- uh- it might seem a bit strange but I’m actually quite fascinated by you”

You hummed, “I see.” After a pause you chuckled. “Might be my heritage.”

“Heritage?”

Nodding, you went on to explain. “I descend from the naiads, that’s why I can control water and that also might explain your fascination”

“I-” Bucky tilted his head, “I was actually more fascinated by your abilities, you know?” he paused, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs. “You’re quite brilliant”

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Well, thanks Bucky”

“Just stating the truth.” He shrugged. “I didn't really know you could control water but that explains a lot”

“What? Didn't Sharon tell you anything about me?” You frowned, tilting your head in his general direction.

“Nope, she’s being quite overprotective actually”

You sighed. “It’s been like this since like...always, unfortunately. A long time ago, before the discovering of Hydra inside Shield, they abused my abilities and she feels somehow responsible. I don't know why and I try to tell her so all the times but-” you shrugged, “It takes time, I suppose”

Bucky hummed and you hugged a leg to your chest, leaning your cheek on the knee. It felt like you were studying him, even if your eyes were unseeing. The silence that settled between you wasn't uncomfortable; Bucky felt like he could stay there with you forever, in that soft quietness.

“So,” you suddenly started, “Who is this Zemo?”

Bucky gritted his teeth and grimaced. “He’s- he’s just after us. Apparently the Avengers’ actions killed his family and he tried to destroy them, using me”

“The whole ‘civil war’, as the media calls it”

“Yes,” Bucky nodded, “Now we think he’s put himself into this new terrorist group, Cobra, but we haven’t got a lot about it”

“I see. Sharon told me something and I’m ready to help where I can”

“I mean,” Bucky cleared his throat, “After how you fought that man? I’m glad you’re helping us.” He wanted to change the subject, not really in the right mindset to talk about his past and particularly Zemo - whether he was back or not.

You seemed to catch on and laughed. “Well, when our bodies are made for the majority of water…”

Thinking about it, it was a very dark joke but that part of you aligned quite well with Bucky’s own nature, so he joined in your laughing. Soon silence settled again. He was looking up at the stars, basking in the night when your voice asked for his attention again. He hummed.

“I was wondering,” you went on, “Could I maybe, um, feel your face?”

He blinked. “You wanna-”

“I know it’s awkward and you don't have to accept but-” you took a deep breath, “I’d really like to see you”

Bucky’s heart started beating faster. The simple idea of having your hands on him making him sweat and tingle in anticipation. Yes, he was definitely touch starved because this was not normal, not even after what you explained about your heritage.

“You truly don't have to, Bucky-”

“No, I want too, please.” He sat up, crossing his legs. To reaffirm his statement, he slowly and gently grabbed your hand, caressing it with his fingertips and bringing it up, closer to his face. This time Atlas didn't growl; he didn't even open his eyes, like he was in complete connection with you and your desires.

You slowly breathed out, letting your fingertips brush Bucky’s cheek - you could immediately feel the stubble scratching your skin. His hand let go of yours and ended in his lap, where he linked his fingers with those of his metal hand.

Slowly mapping his face, you travelled up from his cheek, ending on the apple of it before caressing his eyes; then you dragged a finger down his nose and over his lips. Your other hand came up to follow her twin’s path and Bucky closed his eyes, letting his soul enjoy your skin and your touch - the trill it bought.

It took a while before you stopped and retreated your hands. “Thank you,” you whispered, voice almost breathless, like the gesture had impacted you as much as him.

He didn't know what it was about you. He only knew he liked it.

“It-” he cleared his throat, “It was my pleasure”

You snorted at his tone and now you could even roughly imagine his dreaming expression. “Well,” you then shrugged, “I suppose it’s late so maybe we should go inside and try to get some sleep”

“Yeah, sure.” Bucky was quick to stand and gently grabbing your hands to help you up. You lifted an eyebrow but didn't say anything, accepting his help for this time. He was a sweet guy, after all.

He saw your expression. “Uh, sorry, I didn't mean to-”

“Calm down” you whispered, looping your arm with his, “Usually it’s the water that guides me, but I appreciated it.”

You started walking towards the house, Atlas reaching you with quick steps.

“I’m a gentleman, I do this kind of things out of habits” he said, grinning. You couldn't see but it was clear in his voice.

Chuckling together, you went back into the house and up the stairs. Bucky accompanied you to your room and then wished you goodnight. You kissed his cheek and unfortunately couldn't see the sweet blush that rose on his face.

Maybe you felt his face getting warm but surely weren't going to tell him that.

***

The morning came sooner than you’d have liked. That’s unfortunately what you got for staying out half the night; you were happy of having done it, though, or you wouldn't have found that common ground with Bucky. He was sweet, you liked him.

Bucky had wanted to talk with you and keep you close the whole morning but it seemed like Sharon was keeping an even closer eye on him: maybe she had heard him and you coming back the night before, he couldn't be sure, but her behaviour was a dead giveaway.

You, on the other hand, made sure to always squeeze one of Bucky’s shoulders or hands in passing, as to tell him you didn't forget the night before and it had had a meaning for you.

It made him happy.

Sharon had also decided a plan over breakfast - a plan that was shared by all of you. You and her were going to stay at your house, which would be a base of some sort - you still had some classified documents on Cobra there somewhere - and Bucky and Sam would leave to gather more information on what was actually happening. You needed to know if Zemo was involved at all.

Sam was getting the car ready when you finally had a moment alone with Bucky.

He grabbed your hand - no hesitation this time. “So, I gotta go- I mean, me and Sam, we gotta go”

You smiled knowingly, your eyes unseeing but once again brilliant. “Yeah, I got that”

“We’ll be back soon.” Bucky smiled, his hand squeezing yours once.

“I know”

“Be careful”

You chuckled. “When haven't me and Sharon been, uh?”

Bucky clicked his tongue. “Uh, I really don't know, you know?”

Sharing a quick laugh, you made sure to grab also Bucky’s metal hand. “No, but for real, you two be careful on the road. Cobra has always acted underground, they know how to move”

He nodded, “We too, though”

“I know.” You smiled again but this time it didn't reach your eyes and Bucky had no idea why the sight of that tugged at his heart. He just wanted you to be happy.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He paused. The use of ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ didn't go unnoticed. “I promise”

You nodded solemnly. “I’ll be here”