#srisingcoldstorage

Roy also had no idea if he could just walk up to the doors without being sniped. Or attacked in some way. It was a fortress. All he knew is that he was going the right way, and he’d hit it at some point. Monkeys hitting a typewriter and all of that. But now, standing at the edge of town, he had no idea where to go. And the wind and snow were really starting to pick up. Roy’s delicate California blood was frozen solid. He lightly tapped the person closest to him, trying to look as harmless as possible with bow slung on his back.

Steve wasn’t exactly a fan of being stuck inside because of the weather. He’d been picking up what jobs he could, venturing out into the snow and cold to deliver supplies, trying to keep things going smoothly. But there actually wasn’t as much to do as there usually was so Steve was a little...adrift. He tried to throw himself into the Christmas spirit, giving the people close to him little gifts he thought they’d appreciate, and actually using the sketchbook Bucky had given him. He should’ve relished the break but Steve wasn’t sure he knew how to take a break anymore. The fact that the Hydra bunker hadn’t been discovered under one of the fortresses was still nagging at him and he still felt guilty about it. They were lucky that hadn’t been more of a disaster. Still. It was hard not to spend every waking moment delving further underground just to make sure there were no more terrible secrets lying in wait for them.  Maybe it was because of that nagging feeling that Steve found himself sort of wandering restlessly. He directed himself towards the kitchen to get...something, or maybe just to have an actual destination. He passed Natasha on his way by and slowed. Compared to him she looked....better. Less tense, happier. He’d noticed that the last little while and had some guesses as to why. He smiled at her. “Hey. Doesn’t look like this whole being stuck inside thing is driving you as crazy as it is me.” It was genuine if a little wry. To most people, he wouldn’t have even brought up his own state of discomfort but Nat wasn’t most people. She would’ve known even if he hadn’t mentioned it so there wasn’t much point in trying to hide it. 

It was oddly fun, sneaking into the hostel under the noses of ARGUS agents. But it could have just been how much lighter Diana’s spirits had been the past couple weeks since she’d run into Steve again; how the mood in the Mousehole had, surprisingly, improved with the holidays. Though she found much of the holiday season silly, Diana did love how happy they made those around her. Thus, she partook. And this year, she had someone very special to celebrate with.

It was the sound that caught Helena’s attention. 

Hard not to, when the area around her room tended to be quiet. Helena had been one of the more recent arrivals, all things considered, and she wasn’t exactly well-liked. Not disliked, per se, but definitely not viewed with much trust or interest. No one had moved into the room across from hers for as long as she’d been in the Mousehole. 

And it was Sinatra. A thousand bright-gilded memories all wrapped up in one man’s voice. 

Helena set her laptop aside and got off her bed, heading to the door. The sound was louder there. She closed her eyes for a moment, just basking, before straightening up and stepping out into the hallway. Her knuckles rapped against the door across from hers; she waited a beat before she let herself in, leaning in the doorway. 

—Oh. Helena blinked when she saw the featureless face turn to stare at her. Blank slate for a face, shirtsleeves, blue fedora and coat hung up on a... taxidermied horned rabbit? Well damn. There was only one person that could be, and it definitely wasn’t anyone she could’ve expected. Helena hadn’t even known that the Question was in Sokovia. Hadn’t even been sure he was still around, really, what with how outspoken he was about... everything. “Didn’t know you were around, Question,” Helena greeted, tilting her head. “But I should’ve guessed.” She huffed a laugh, stepping inside properly. “Sinatra? I’m a big fan. Figured I’d crash the party.” 

“What sort of hellhole have you been put into, Hardy?” She muttered to herself.

Currently, Clint was relaxing in the kitchen. No hunting to do when he’d get hypothermia from the attempt, so he was enjoying the mysterious plate of cookies that’d showed up on the counter for all to partake in. Just because he didn’t like Christmas didn’t mean that he didn’t love Christmas food. 

“Hey,” he said with a smile as someone stepped inside, nudging the plate along the counter. “You should try one of these. Warm you right up.” 

Helena hadn’t expected to get anything for Christmas, but then again... She probably should have, what with Babs knowing she was coming. 

She picked the gift bag up carefully from her doorway, taking it inside with her. And when she looked inside, well... A large, private smile pulled at Helena’s lips as she looked over the spices Babs had picked out for her, both familiar and unusual. They were almost as great as the soft-knit purple winter-wear that she already knew she’d get good use out of.