tfw you don’t write fanfiction for months and then suddenly you get this dream that you HAVE to share with everyone.
Steve checked the address on his phone. He shouldn’t have to. There was only one house there for miles. Even if Natasha had pinned the wrong location, there was no way they could barge into someone else’s house. This was it. A despondent looking uncared-for shack in the middle of nowhere.
Steve exchanged a doubtful glance with Sam. “You first.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Sam exclaimed, raising his eyebrows incredulously. He pointed worriedly at the boarded up windows of the rundown shack. “We can’t stay here. The place looks haunted. I’d rather die than let myself be possessed by a demon.”
“What if it’s a good demon?”
He got the side-eye as response. “There’s no such thing as a good demon. Let’s just turn back.”
Steve laughed and poked his friend in the side. “Pussy.”
They stood looking at the house for another long second. Natasha had said it was a safe house. Sure, it was way outside of civilization. So it was definitely safe in that way. But what Steve was worried about was the interior. The house looked ancient. He didn’t want the roof to collapse on them while they were sleeping.
Beside him, Sam was grumbling under his breath. “Can’t believe we’re reduced to living in dumps. I miss home!”
Steve chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, bird boy. Let’s go in.”
“Don’t call me that, Steve. It’ll catch on!”
“Sorry to break it to you, pal, but it already has.”
They walked up to the front door, gaze alert and hands hovering over their weapons. Steve pushed at the door and was wholly unsurprised when it fell clear off it’s hinges with a loud crack, making Sam jump a foot in the air.
“Wonderful,” he mumbled sourly.
Steve bit his lip and focused on sounds, putting his enhanced hearing to use. “I don’t hear anything,” he murmured after a moment. “It’s definitely empty.”
“Of course it’s empty,” Sam said, pushing past him into the house. “Who’d willingly live here?”
While bird boy explored the place, Steve put the phone to his ear and spoke into it. “Hey, it’s safe. Come on down. Park the quinjet behind that clump of trees.”
Clint’s voice floated through from the other end of the line. “Aye aye Captain.”
“This room’s fiiiiine, my man,” Sam’s voice called from inside. “Dibs on the bed.”
“You can’t call dibs without all of us being here,” Steve called back, walking in. He looked around the small living area with interest, his gaze taking in the lumpy couch, ashes in the fireplace, and mold growing on the ceiling. As expected, everything there was coated in a thick layer of dust. Yet Steve couldn’t help but feel how lovely and quaint the place must have been back in the day when people were living in it. In another life, he could imagine himself vacationing there in summers.
A bunch of photo frames on the mantle caught his eye but before he could go and check them out, a deafening yell broke the eerie silence, causing Steve’s heart to almost jump into his throat. Without wasting a second, he whirled around and bounded into the room he had seen Sam disappear in a minute ago.
If you asked him now, he wouldn’t be able to tell you what he had been expecting when he ran into the room (probably a cockroach or a lizard; Sam was weirdly scared of bugs and reptiles) but it definitely wasn’t the sight of Sam Wilson standing on trembling knees, pointing a gun at the wall.
“What—?” Steve began, only to be cut off by Sam’s frantic shout.
Steve looked. There was nothing but wall. And mold. “There’s nothing there!”
“Steve! I saw her, I swear to—”
Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t let out an embarrassing yelp. A figure had popped up before them, literally materialized in front of their eyes out of thin air!
“Holy hell!” he cried, whipping out his gun and pointing it at the interloper, both men standing shoulder to shoulder as they faced off the unwanted person in their safe house.
Only… it wasn’t a person. It was a woman but wait… was she floating? And why could they look right through her like glass?!
“What fresh hell,” Steve heard Sam mutter beside him, while he himself could only stare at the apparition in total and complete shock. He didn’t know if he had ever encountered anything like this in his whole life.
The woman waved cheerfully at them. “Sorry, fellas, your guns won’t work on me.” She floated toward Sam, who gasped and leapt back. “Sorry, sorry, I was just trying to…” She bit her lip and turned her gaze to Steve. “Hey, guy? Guy. Your mouth’s open.”
Steve blinked and snapped his mouth shut. “How… whaa… who are you?”
The woman’s smile returned and she waved again. “Hi. I’m Darcy the friendly ghost. But you can just call me Darcy.”
Sam shifted beside him. “Told you the house was haunted.”
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