Summary: Reader is a HYDRA experiment (like the Maximoffs, but not voluntary) who grows wings (like Angel from X-Men). She escapes, and is now trying to rescue and prevent further kidnappings and experiments.
Word Count: 3011
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of violence… honestly, I’m not even sure anymore
Surreal didn’t begin to describe landing on that clifftop in Siberia.
As you’d flown in, you’d filled in as much of your building plan as you could. It looked like they had left the structure alone for the most part, adding security and cameras, but not altering the layout much.
It was clearly another set up; the entire building was full of what looked like completely empty, useless rooms that locked from the outside. Rooms meant to draw attention, and trap anyone who investigated.
You didn’t look around much as you jogged from the jet you and Clint had flown in across the snow towards the team. Just the sound of your footsteps crunching in the snow had memories tapping at the back of your mind, but you forced them back. You followed Clint into the other jet and stood just inside the door. Once the two of you stepped on board, the cloaking was reengaged, keeping the jet invisible to the outside, but allowing the occupants to see out. You kept your back to the interior wall, but stood so that you had a line of sight to the outside as well.
When asked, you had HERMES and FRIDAY project your augmented map into the space in front of the team.
“If I had to guess, Bucky would be somewhere in this level,” you said, indicating a level that the AIs highlighted. “It’s the most secure.” If they were to attempt to reprogram Bucky, their equipment would likely have been brought there.
The team immediately began talking strategy, but each strategy had at least one major flaw. If it wasn’t the fact that they would be completely mobbed by guards, it was that they were going to get the building locked down, or possibly blown up while they were all inside. It was all you could do to point these flaws out without pulling your hair out, but you kept your composure, until you couldn’t anymore.
All this talking, it was taking too much time; time that you were fairly sure Bucky didn’t have. For all you knew, Bucky could have already been removed from the compound. Or he could be strapped into whatever torture devices HYDRA had stored in this shithole. Or-
Nope. You were done.
As slowly as possible, you edged your way out of the team’s line of sight. You kept your movements small and slow until you were around the back of the jet, then you broke into a sprint.The door to the compound was open from where the team had entered before, so it was quick and easy to slip in. At the elevator shaft you stopped.
“HERMES, what floor is the lift on?” you asked quietly.
“It seems to be on the bottom of the shaft mistress.”
“Cut the power to it.”
“Done”
Using both your arms and your legs, you were able to pry the doors apart just enough to edge your body through. You released your wings and just as your feet stepped into the open shaft, spread them as wide as you could to hold a hover at the platform, making sure the doors shut behind you, keeping anyone from sneaking up behind.
Slowly and carefully, you lowered yourself through the shaft, counting the floors as they passed, until you were at the correct level. There was a tiny ledge between the doors and where the elevator would have stopped, but it wasn’t wide enough to do more than rest your toes on. You kept pumping your wings as you pried the doors apart again, they were much harder to open from this side, and holding a hover while doing so had sweat pouring down your back, but you managed. As you slipped between the open doors and into the hallway beyond, the doors closed themselves faster than you were anticipating and caught your wings.
The fine bones in your wings were stronger than birds wings, but you could feel the sharp pains signaling near breaks, and hairline fractures. You drew them in as quickly as you could, berating yourself for not being more careful.
As you stepped fully into the hallway, you froze. This… this was the floor you’d lived on. 19 steps away exactly was the door to your testing cell. Through the door at the back of that room, and 10 steps further down another hallway was the door to the room in which you’d spent the majority of your life, trapped. So many memories of your time with HYDRA had taken place within the confines of this floor. How many times had you been dragged, half-conscious, down this hallway? You shivered.
“HERMES, scan for thermal signatures,” you thought to the AI, no longer daring to speak out loud.
“None on this floor mistress. There are, however, several in a room to the left and above you,” he replied.
“Air vents,” you began searching for the access vent. Of course, the nearest access you could find was just above your head. Typical. Digging into the pockets of your tactical pants, you pulled out the swiss army knife you’d tucked there. Air vents, even in evil lairs, were attached with screws. And a screwdriver was always useful even if there were no screws; they made perfectly serviceable stabbing tools.
You jumped and grabbed the grate covering the vent. Holding yourself that way for a moment before releasing your wings again. You used them to provide the occasional boost as you released the vent cover, letting the vent grate drop to the floor as you levered your body up into the space that was just a bit too small for comfort. A person would fit there, barely, but a person with wings? Not so much. It took a moment to get yourself into a stable position while hiding your wings again and sliding fully into the vent.
“Movies make this look a lot easier than it is,” you thought as you army-crawled along the very small tunnel. It was almost funny how you had to twist and contort your body into the vertical shaft. It would have been hilarious to watch and you would have laughed in any other situation. Finally standing, you pressed your forearms and lower legs into the walls of the shaft and slowly inched your way up. It would have been a breeze if you could have used your wings, but the space was far too tight, so inchworm it was.
“Y/N, where the hell are you?”
“HERMES, please inform Captain America that I am currently crawling through an air vent and cannot speak at the moment,” even your thoughts sounded snippy. Oh well.
You reached a junction and crawled into the horizontal shaft, following the amalgamated map you had asked HERMES to project for you of your memories, and his heat reading.
“Son of a bitch! We need a plan first Y/N!”
“Bit busy at the moment, whine at me later.” Apparently HERMES took it upon himself to convey your thought because laughter and more curses followed.
“Where am I in relation to the heat signatures now?” HERMES informed you that you were now just above them. You slid along the shaft until you hit the next vent. “How many heat signatures are in the room below me right now?”
“One Mistress.”
You attempted to be quiet while removing the grate, but with no access to the screw heads, your best bet was to slip your fingers through the venting and hold on to it while you hit it sharply from the inside. You managed to keep the grate from hitting the floor, and when no shouts followed your pounding, you maneuvered the grate up into the shaft with you and cautiously peaked your head out of the hole you’d made.
HERMES was right, there was only one person in the room. And that person wasn’t going to be stopping you cause they were strapped into the weirdest looking chair you’d ever seen.
You were not incredibly graceful clambering out of the vent, but since the person in the chair had a bag over their head and seemed to be unconscious, there was no need to worry about appearances. You looked around the room and found the door. You had nothing to block it with, so you had to hope no one would attempt to come in, or that they at least didn’t bring too many friends along with them.
There was nothing in the room aside from the chair. No two way mirror, no torture devices, nothing. Just the person, a man, strapped into the freaky chair. Finally looking back at the person in the chair, you peeked under the bag and swore. Bucky.
“Tell the others I’ve found him, and transmit images,” you thought as you looked for some way to release the straps.
“Careful, Y/N. If they’ve done what I think they have, he may not wake up the same person he was,” Steve’s voice was restrained, but you knew this was probably killing him.
“Mistress, two heat signatures are approaching the door” HERMES’ calm voice announced.
“Shit.” There was nowhere to hide in the room so you slid quickly to the wall with the door and positioned yourself so the door would swing in front of you, blocking you from view for a moment.
The two people approaching were clearly unafraid of Bucky, restrained as he was, but only one of them came into the room. The other remained outside, guarding the door. Good news for you, if you could keep the struggle quiet and quick you would only have to take one at a time.
The man who entered the room didn't swing the door all the way open, but it came within an inch of the toes of your boots before it began to swing closed again. It looked like the man was wearing a lab coat; so he was either an observer or a tester, neither was a good option. Fortunately he wouldn't be a problem much longer.
Not pausing to draw a knife, you pushed off the wall and launched yourself at the man standing in front of Bucky. Upon reaching him, you immediately put as much of your weight as you could into pressing down on the top of his head, compressing his spine before you grabbed his chin and violently jerked his chin to the side. The dry popping sound seemed insanely loud in the room, but you managed to catch the body before it hit the ground, and the guard at the door made no move to enter.
Now, the question was, should you try to remove Bucky from the torture chair now, or wait until the other guard came in?
"We aren't killers, Y/N.” You'd forgotten the others were watching. and Steve's gruff chiding was unwelcome.
You didn't go out of your way to kill, but right then you had few weapons, no restraints available, and any noise could have drawn the guard’s notice. If Steve wanted to judge your actions, so be it; he wasn't there with you.
"You can bitch me out later," you thought, knowing HERMES would translate, "but I am here, and I'm gonna get Bucky out. Help, or shut up!"
“There's only one guard outside, right?" Natasha spoke up. You gave her the affirmative. "You can handle them if necessary, but I'd suggest moving Barnes while you can"
"Easier said than done," you thought ruefully.
As quietly as possible, you moved the body so that it blocked the door. No, It wouldn't stop anyone determined to get in, but it would slow them down.
Bucky hadn't made a sound, and his head was tilted slightly, making him appear asleep, but you approached cautiously. You pulled the cover off his head and inhaled sharply. Cuts & bruises covered his face, clearly HYDRA wasn't concerned about the condition of their Soldier, so long as he was back under their care.
A litany of curses, in multiple languages, ran through your mind as you quickly scanned the chair Bucky was strapped to. It was mechanical, but you couldn't see an obvious power source, or a way to release the chair's occupant.
"HERMES, override?"
"Searching, Mistress."
You circled the chair seeing very few exposed wires, you could pull them, but since you were unsure what sort of reaction that would cause, you left that as a last resort.
"Ideas?" you asked the group.
"Working on it," Natasha replied.
"I've never seen the thing myself, Buck's told me about it, but he was never lucid enough when they used it to tell me much about how it works." Steve sounded calm, but you could imagine the frustration this must be causing him.
On your second pass. you found what looked like a control panel, but of course, none of the damn switches were labeled.
"Override located.”
"Thank Fuck." There was no way you were going to test any of those switches.
Following HERMES' instructions, you had the restraints popping open in moments, but Bucky was still unconscious. You looked up at the ventilation shaft you'd climbed through to get in. That was the safest route out, but how in the fuck would you get an unconscious super soldier wth a metal arm up there? The chair could boost you a bit, but not enough.
Taking a deep breath, you released your wings again, wincing at the no longer negligible you felt from the still healing wounds, and the new possible fractures from the elevator. You pushed yourself into a hover just above the floor. "This is gonna suck." Beating your tender wings had pain rippling over your back and tears pricking your eyes, but you did it.
Gripping Bucky at the waist, you pushed past the pain, and forced your body to rise until your head brushed the ceiling. Slowly & clumsily you maneuvered Bucky's lower body into the vent shaft, orienting his body in the direction opposite your destination so you could drag him along instead of trying to push him ahead of you.
His shoulders had just passed into the vent, finally allowing you to grab hold of the opening and let your wings to drop, when the guard knocked on the door and called inside.
Forcing your wings to recede had you biting back a scream. Your arms shook violently as you pulled your body into the shaft as quickly as possible. Tears were pouring down your face and a scream was rapped in your throat, but there was no time for you to even catch your breath.
"We're out of time," you alerted the team as you contorted your body to grab ahold of Bucky's outstretched arms. You'd shifted Bucky's body beyond the opening by the time you heard the guard force open the door. He was not quiet in his discovery of his downed colleague, immediately calling a lockdown. He apparently did not notice, or bother wondering exactly how their prize prisoner had managed to escape, but it didn't matter, the whole complex would be shut down.
When you'd been kept in the compound before, you had only attempted to use the vents once; you’d chosen the wrong route on that attempt and had been caught quickly. There was no telling whether or not HYDRA had bothered to put any protections in their vent system since then, but you had no choice but to continue to pull Bucky along the shaft with you.
A map showing the route you had taken to find Bucky appeared over your field of vision.
You were sweating and shaking by the time you closed in on your exit; it had taken way longer to leave than it had to break in. Not only were you dragging a very heavy supersoldier along with you, but you kept having to freeze in place whenever you heard activity around you, unsure if the guards would be able to hear you. You'd had HERMES project the location of your exit from the vents to the rest of the team during your inchworm journey out, and you let them know you were approaching the drop.
In order to get out of the shaft, you would have to move your body past the opening, drop your legs down, and then drop into the vertical shaft, pulling Bucky down with you. The shaft was too narrow to try a controlled slide with two people, and the sharp metal lips where the vent sections joined together would slice your back to ribbons. And it was too tall for anyone to be able to reach up and grab Bucky from below. If you hadn't had Bucky with you. you would have climbed down, but it was way too tight to manage a climb carrying someone, let alone an unconscious someone.
You slid yourself into position, legs dangling in the opening, and waited for your signal. You could hear shouts and weapons firing below you, so you knew a fight was raging, but you had no way to help without leaving Bucky unprotected. Adrenaline made it hard to regulate your breathing, but you made an effort.
"Now!"
Several, if not most, of the sharp joins caught you as you fell, ripping into your clothing and skin. When your feet hit the floor, a jarring wave of pain shot up your legs, but it wasn't nearly as bad as when all of Bucky's considerable weight crashed down on top of you moments later. The others provided cover fire as you rolled slightly and shifted Bucky off of you.
Tears still coursing down your cheeks, you braced one hand and one knee on the ground as you pushed through the now agonizing pain and released your wings. Something was definitely broken now, but you forced them wide. Looking down the hall, you spotted the avengers slowly pulling back to your position. As they slid back, Sam kicked one of the fallen enemy’s guns to you, you snapped it up and aimed at the shadowy figures ducking in and out of doorways.
Summary: Reader is a HYDRA experiment (like the Maximoffs, but not voluntary) who grows wings (like Angel from X-Men). She escapes, and is now trying to rescue and prevent further kidnappings and experiments.
Word Count: 2696
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of violence… honestly, I’m not even sure anymore
10 minutes after the very fancy “quinjet” took off, Clint had you in a room just off Tony’s lab that was filled to the brim with computers and monitors linked to the jet, and the com system. It was a fairly large room, though you were glad your wings had healed enough to be hidden again. There was a small, but very nice attached bathroom, a stocked mini kitchen, and a cot. The chairs in front of the bank of computers were the most comfortable looking desk chairs you’d ever seen, and when the two of you walked in, the door behind you slid shut with a soft click, followed by FRIDAY announcing that the room was secure.
“Like, we can’t leave?” you asked, somewhat uncomfortably. Sure the room had every amenity you could need, but still.
“Nah, like the communications and video feeds are all secure. Sure, FRIDAY locks the door, but that’s just to keep us safe in here if need be. We can still get up and leave if we want, just easier to stay most of the time,” Clint shrugged, lounging in one of the large desk chairs.
“I didn’t realize anything here wasn’t already secure,” you laughed lightly as you lowered yourself into the other desk chair. Yup, just as comfy as it looked, and large enough to pull one leg up under the other, the best way to sit. “So, other than occasionally helping them move around, what exactly are we gonna do?”
“There’s a shocking amount of behind the scenes work on some cases,” Clint grumbled, “but most of the time, we sit in here and spill tea,” he added with a smile
“You do what? Tony doesn’t kill you for spilling in here?”
Clint laughed uproariously before explaining that and several other odd phrases you’d clearly missed out on. Apparently, having kids who were into their preteens meant Clint was the source of all things “cool”. It was funny seeing how animated he was when he was talking about his kids. Honestly, you couldn’t believe he was old enough to be a dad, but he really seemed to love every aspect of fatherhood. His family was the reason he stayed back during most missions. Not that he wasn’t capable, and immensely helpful, but the rest of the team tried to keep him back unless absolutely necessary. Clint said in the beginning that pissed him off, but eventually Natasha bashed him over he head with the truth often enough that he just stopped arguing.
“She said I was only gonna have one life with my family, and she wasn’t gonna let me risk it for no good reason,” Clint explained. The look on his face plainly said there was a much deeper story, but there was such a wealth of pain in the look that you refused to ask what happened.
Clint then told all kinds of hilarious, and odd stories about the heroes who called New York their home. You heard all about Tony’s neatfreak tendencies, Steve’s disney obsession, Natasha and Sam’s Mario Kart rivalry, and more.
In return, you shared a bit about what you’d been doing. He knew about the kids, sure, but you talked about some of the places you’d been, the people you’d met. He was most interested to hear about the Professor in England, but though you explained a little about him, you kept most of the school’s details to yourself. You liked Clint, and were growing to trust him, but Charles’ secrets weren’t yours to tell. Maybe you’d reach out to the Doctor and tell him about the Avengers, it had been a while since you’d checked in after all.
Then Clint had switched to talking about the team’s relationships. Wanda being in a relationship seemed almost obvious to you, who couldn’t love her? Though you’d yet to meet Vision in person, the android sounded… interesting. You’d briefly met Pepper, but you didn't know about her and Tony’s relationship. It took a moment for that to make sense to you, but when you thought back to how Tony had talked about her, you could see it. Natasha and Bruce apparently, very briefly had a fling, but they were better off as friends, and managed to stay that way. Sam, Clint said with an affectionate eye roll, was a perpetual bachelor, but he seemed at least content as he was. You had a sneaking suspicion that Clint was dying to play matchmaker with the remaining team members and it had you stifling a giggle.
“And then there’s Steve and Barnes. Steve hasn’t really shown any interest in anyone other than Sharon, a former SHIELD agent you’ll likely meet. There’s all kinds’a complications there, but she seems nice enough.” Clint shrugged a little, not deciding one way or another if he was happy about their relationship. He paused in his talking, which had been near constant, drawing your attention off the monitor you’d been watching showing the jet’s progress towards Siberia. When he caught your gaze, he gave you a very interesting smile. He looked like the cat that ate the canary and it made you wary.
“What?” you asked, leaning slightly away from him in your chair.
“That just leaves Barnes,” he said, continuing as if nothing had happened, but keeping eye contact with you.
“What about him,” you asked, still uncomfortable.
“Oh come on! He’s all but glued to you. Anyone with eyes can see the gooey look he gets on his face when he looks at you.”
“The what?” You should have guessed he’d started talking about relationships for some reason. You’d barely even talked to other people for the majority of your life. Outside missions and reports, you really didn’t have interactions with people. This was so very far out of your area of expertise it wasn’t even visible. “Clint, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, or how to respond.”
Clint’s expression somehow showed exasperation and understanding at the same time. “Natasha was a little similar. Though she’d been trained to use people’s emotions against them, so I guess she at least had a basic understanding of relationships.” Clint said quietly, before leaning closer to you. “How do you feel about being here?”
“Good,” you answered automatically. Not a moment of hesitation. But it looked like Clint wanted something else.
“How do you feel about being around the team? As a group, or individuals.”
You paused for a moment. “Comfortable, I guess. I don’t feel like I have to be ready to move all the time. Tony is a little erratic, but he doesn’t seem to do anything with malicious intent. Steve is about as steadfast as any person could be, I think. Wanda may be the single kindest person I'll ever meet. You and Natasha and Bruce have been amazingly welcoming considering how I was introduced to your lives. You’ve all done more for me than I even knew I could want, let alone need. I - I like it here. A lot.” you finished lamely, looking down at the floor before meeting Clint’s gaze again. “The team here is good. A little dysfunctional and undisciplined, but good. I can see how much you all respect each other, even though you bicker. Hell, I saw some of the footage of New York, and Sokovia; you all may argue, but when it comes down to it, you’re almost unstoppable.”
Clint smirked, “and all I have is a bow and arrow.” You smiled back.
“You said how you feel about just about everyone,” Clint said as the two of you both turned back to the monitors. “What about Sam and Barnes?”
“Sam feels how I think a brother might. I know he’s smart and capable, but he annoys me sometimes.”
Clint laughed, and nodded before adding, “and Bucky?”
Bucky. He’d been calling him “Barnes” up til that point; seemed most everyone but Steve and the girls did. “Bucky,” you started but stopped, completely unsure what you were going to say. “He feels…safe, I think. I feel calm around him.”
“Safe?” Clint asked, head cocked a little to the side.
“Before I came here, I’m not sure I knew what that felt like. I think that's what I feel. Like I could, I dunno, relax when he’s there. I don’t feel like I need to be watching for something over my shoulder. I think, to me, that’s what ‘safe’ is.”
“I think it may be a little more than that,” Clint replied quietly, but he didn’t mention the small smile he’d seen on your face as you thought about Bucky. “Safe” or not, you liked being with Bucky, and since he had an inkling of how Bucky seemed to be feeling about you, Clint was feeling a little like meddling. “Wonder what would happen if-”
His train of thought cut off as he watched the team land. He connected the room’s sound system to the com channel and confirmed connection with the team.
“This is the Bird’s Nest calling, do you copy?”
“Just a little professionalism, Clint. That’s all I ask,” was Steve’s response.
“I’ll take that as a ‘copy’ then,” Clint smiled at you.
“Seriously, it’s not worth the effort Cap, he’s not gonna change,” Natasha added.
The “away team” consisted of Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat, & Tony for this trip. Wanda and Vision had decided to go on a trip to Sokovia. Apparently they did that from time to time, as it had been Wanda’s home, and was the place her brother had died, it made sense. You and Clint were the only ones in the compound at the moment. Though you’d heard others, who you’d yet to meet, were at the Tower along with Bruce, they were not engaged with this particular operation. As the team readied to de-plane, you and Clint brought up the remote feeds from the jet’s cameras.
“Do we have any access to HYDRA systems?” You ask, noting the lack of camera angles provided by the jet & Sam’s RedWing.
“Not actively,” Clint said, “could you access those without being noticed?”
“I think so. The security systems are all separate, communicating with each other, but separate entities. If I block the communications between the systems, I could access the cameras without tripping anything else.” Of course, it was more complicated than that, but you were reasonably sure you could do it undetected.
“Hold back unless we need it,” Steve said over the coms. “It may not be necessary and I’d rather not risk it.”
“Yeah, Mr. Safety over here. Who was it that jumped out of a plane with no chute again?” Bucky teased.
“I’d say poke around lightly, just in case,” Tony chimed in, “you never know what you may find.”
“Just hold off.” Steve sounded fed up already, and you were trying not to laugh at his exasperated tone.
“I’ll wait, but know I am ready to try, if you need me,” you said with a smile.
The team communicated their thanks and started their run into the facility.
It went smoothly: in the door, through the elevator shaft and on to the upper most floor with no problem.
That is, until Steve opened a door.
A door you had specifically said not to.
A door to an empty, but alarmed dummy room.
“I told you about those alarms guys!” you all but yelled as alarms started sounding through the coms. “Jesus christ,” you bit out as you started quickly typing code into the keyboard in front of you. Cat was out of the bag now, no sense not trying to access the cameras. Once you had access, you swore again, in several languages.
“That’s a lot of guards,” Clint commented before the two of you began to relay as much information you could between the group.
The aim of the operation quickly switched from “intel gathering” to, “get what you can and get the fuck out”. You left Clint to the intel portion and plowed ahead into HYDRA system code you hadn’t seen or touched in years. You turned on the sprinklers in guard rooms, shut off the lights and ventilation in others. None of the door locks were electronic, but some of the doors could be barred remotely in case of a breach; you popped those open, while frying any electronic defense systems you could find.
The group split into two smaller teams, Nat and Tony on recon, and Steve, Sam, and Bucky on defense. You told Natasha and Tony the most likely locations of computer terminals and watched the cameras as much as you could, but you lost track of Steve, Sam and Bucky fairly quickly. You could hear them on coms every once and a while, but rarely caught flashes of them on any cameras.
The team managed to clear the first level and Tony blasted a new exit for them through what should have been impenetrable layers of concrete and steel, but when the group re-convened at the jet, there was a problem. Sam and Bucky hadn’t exited the building yet. And they weren’t responding to coms.
Steve was quickly losing patience, and all but ran back into the building, but Tony bear hugged him and pulled him, a feet which would have been impossible without his suit, back onto the jet, before engaging a cloaking shield over it.
“We need backup,” Natasha said as Steve and Tony shouted at each other. “The cloaking will keep us out of sight, but we can’t leave them. Especially not-”
“Not Bucky,” you whispered. Your mind was violently yanked back to one of several failed escape attempts. One that ended in a week of starvation and “experiments”. You knew too well what would happen were HYDRA to get their Soldier back.
You looked at Clint and either he was thinking the same as you, or your expression showed your resolve and terror, because his next sentence was, “we’re suiting up. Wheels up in 5.”
The two of you sprinted out of the com room and into the armory. You didn’t have a suit per-se but you knew where Natasha and Wanda had some spare pieces that you could make work. Tony had an awesome wing-ready jacket made for you too. Toughened leather with just enough space for your wings to squeeze out the back without leaving you unprotected. The only clothing you’d kept with you when you arrived had been your boots and you yanked those on as you hopped into the jet just behind Clint.
“FRIDAY, you have the flight plan?” he called as the door began to shut.
“I’ve got it,” the AI replied.
“As fast as we can, take short-cuts, and fuck the speed limits.”
“Got it.” A map of the route popped up in front of the cockpit chairs as you strapped in.
“I don’t know a goddamn thing about flying anything that doesn’t flap its wings, so I hope you know what you’re doing,” you told Clint as you clicked one of the many harness straps into place.
“This part I got,” he replied as the jet shot into the air, “you focus on getting us into the base and finding Wilson and Barnes.”
“HERMES, schematics and a map of the route the team attempted please,” you said aloud while also silently adding, “and basic mechanical guide around this jet if you can”.
“On it, mistress,” he replied in your head, bringing up both a map of the base and multiple pages he must have gotten from FRIDAY related to the jet. You trusted Clint’s ability, but given the way this op went to shit, you wanted to be at least a little prepared for the worst.
“FRIDAY,” you called as you began to glance at the jets’ pseudo-manual.
“Yes, miss?”
“Can you keep running the codes I started before we left, the one into HYDRA’s system?”
“Of course. What am I looking for, miss?”
“See if you can access any building schematics. If not, try to patch one together from the cameras and the alarm and ventilation systems, please”. You had a few hours before you landed, better get as much additional information as you could.
“How’s everyone doing over there?” Clint asked. Natasha, Tony and Steve were a little bruised and battered, but in one piece, but it was the 4th voice that piped in that shocked you.
“Can’t say I’m doing all that well. I can’t find you, uncloak the fucking jet!”
“Sam?!” Steve and Natasha shouted. Tony must have done as asked, because you could hear him through the other’s coms now.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Where’s Bucky?” You and Clint asked at once.
“My com got knocked out of my ear, I had to find the fucking thing. I was with Barnes up until the com fell out. I had to double back. He isn’t here?”
While the others filled Sam in, you had a new question of the AIs. “Can you find Sam on the cameras,” you asked both FRIDAY and HERMES. They supplied you with some stills of Sam in the hallways. “Any shots of Bucky?” Again, several shots popped up, the last two chilled you. Bucky, surrounded on all sides, and then Bucky on the floor. “Fuck! Clint, is there any paper on this jet?”
Clint pointed over to a pack hanging on the wall nearby that proved to have some grid paper and pencils. Yes, you could do this in your head, probably much easier than you could have before HERMES, but you could barely keep your thoughts straight, so paper was less likely to have errors. So you looked closely at the background of all the pictures of Bucky and followed him as far as you could, mapping what you could remember of the facility and using FRIDAY’s new schematics to make your best guess where Bucky could be.
Your only hope was that they didn’t have time to transport him to a different facility before you could get there. You glanced at the map, 3 hours and counting.
Summary: Reader is a HYDRA experiment (like the Maximoffs, but not voluntary) who grows wings (like Angel from X-Men). She escapes, and is now trying to rescue and prevent further kidnappings and experiments.
Word Count: 2696
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of violence… honestly, I’m not even sure anymore
10 minutes after the very fancy “quinjet” took off, Clint had you in a room just off Tony’s lab that was filled to the brim with computers and monitors linked to the jet, and the com system. It was a fairly large room, though you were glad your wings had healed enough to be hidden again. There was a small, but very nice attached bathroom, a stocked mini kitchen, and a cot. The chairs in front of the bank of computers were the most comfortable looking desk chairs you’d ever seen, and when the two of you walked in, the door behind you slid shut with a soft click, followed by FRIDAY announcing that the room was secure.
“Like, we can’t leave?” you asked, somewhat uncomfortably. Sure the room had every amenity you could need, but still.
“Nah, like the communications and video feeds are all secure. Sure, FRIDAY locks the door, but that’s just to keep us safe in here if need be. We can still get up and leave if we want, just easier to stay most of the time,” Clint shrugged, lounging in one of the large desk chairs.
“I didn’t realize anything here wasn’t already secure,” you laughed lightly as you lowered yourself into the other desk chair. Yup, just as comfy as it looked, and large enough to pull one leg up under the other, the best way to sit. “So, other than occasionally helping them move around, what exactly are we gonna do?”
“There’s a shocking amount of behind the scenes work on some cases,” Clint grumbled, “but most of the time, we sit in here and spill tea,” he added with a smile
“You do what? Tony doesn’t kill you for spilling in here?”
Clint laughed uproariously before explaining that and several other odd phrases you’d clearly missed out on. Apparently, having kids who were into their preteens meant Clint was the source of all things “cool”. It was funny seeing how animated he was when he was talking about his kids. Honestly, you couldn’t believe he was old enough to be a dad, but he really seemed to love every aspect of fatherhood. His family was the reason he stayed back during most missions. Not that he wasn’t capable, and immensely helpful, but the rest of the team tried to keep him back unless absolutely necessary. Clint said in the beginning that pissed him off, but eventually Natasha bashed him over he head with the truth often enough that he just stopped arguing.
“She said I was only gonna have one life with my family, and she wasn’t gonna let me risk it for no good reason,” Clint explained. The look on his face plainly said there was a much deeper story, but there was such a wealth of pain in the look that you refused to ask what happened.
Clint then told all kinds of hilarious, and odd stories about the heroes who called New York their home. You heard all about Tony’s neatfreak tendencies, Steve’s disney obsession, Natasha and Sam’s Mario Kart rivalry, and more.
In return, you shared a bit about what you’d been doing. He knew about the kids, sure, but you talked about some of the places you’d been, the people you’d met. He was most interested to hear about the Professor in England, but though you explained a little about him, you kept most of the school’s details to yourself. You liked Clint, and were growing to trust him, but Charles’ secrets weren’t yours to tell. Maybe you’d reach out to the Doctor and tell him about the Avengers, it had been a while since you’d checked in after all.
Then Clint had switched to talking about the team’s relationships. Wanda being in a relationship seemed almost obvious to you, who couldn’t love her? Though you’d yet to meet Vision in person, the android sounded… interesting. You’d briefly met Pepper, but you didn't know about her and Tony’s relationship. It took a moment for that to make sense to you, but when you thought back to how Tony had talked about her, you could see it. Natasha and Bruce apparently, very briefly had a fling, but they were better off as friends, and managed to stay that way. Sam, Clint said with an affectionate eye roll, was a perpetual bachelor, but he seemed at least content as he was. You had a sneaking suspicion that Clint was dying to play matchmaker with the remaining team members and it had you stifling a giggle.
“And then there’s Steve and Barnes. Steve hasn’t really shown any interest in anyone other than Sharon, a former SHIELD agent you’ll likely meet. There’s all kinds’a complications there, but she seems nice enough.” Clint shrugged a little, not deciding one way or another if he was happy about their relationship. He paused in his talking, which had been near constant, drawing your attention off the monitor you’d been watching showing the jet’s progress towards Siberia. When he caught your gaze, he gave you a very interesting smile. He looked like the cat that ate the canary and it made you wary.
“What?” you asked, leaning slightly away from him in your chair.
“That just leaves Barnes,” he said, continuing as if nothing had happened, but keeping eye contact with you.
“What about him,” you asked, still uncomfortable.
“Oh come on! He’s all but glued to you. Anyone with eyes can see the gooey look he gets on his face when he looks at you.”
“The what?” You should have guessed he’d started talking about relationships for some reason. You’d barely even talked to other people for the majority of your life. Outside missions and reports, you really didn’t have interactions with people. This was so very far out of your area of expertise it wasn’t even visible. “Clint, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, or how to respond.”
Clint’s expression somehow showed exasperation and understanding at the same time. “Natasha was a little similar. Though she’d been trained to use people’s emotions against them, so I guess she at least had a basic understanding of relationships.” Clint said quietly, before leaning closer to you. “How do you feel about being here?”
“Good,” you answered automatically. Not a moment of hesitation. But it looked like Clint wanted something else.
“How do you feel about being around the team? As a group, or individuals.”
You paused for a moment. “Comfortable, I guess. I don’t feel like I have to be ready to move all the time. Tony is a little erratic, but he doesn’t seem to do anything with malicious intent. Steve is about as steadfast as any person could be, I think. Wanda may be the single kindest person I'll ever meet. You and Natasha and Bruce have been amazingly welcoming considering how I was introduced to your lives. You’ve all done more for me than I even knew I could want, let alone need. I - I like it here. A lot.” you finished lamely, looking down at the floor before meeting Clint’s gaze again. “The team here is good. A little dysfunctional and undisciplined, but good. I can see how much you all respect each other, even though you bicker. Hell, I saw some of the footage of New York, and Sokovia; you all may argue, but when it comes down to it, you’re almost unstoppable.”
Clint smirked, “and all I have is a bow and arrow.” You smiled back.
“You said how you feel about just about everyone,” Clint said as the two of you both turned back to the monitors. “What about Sam and Barnes?”
“Sam feels how I think a brother might. I know he’s smart and capable, but he annoys me sometimes.”
Clint laughed, and nodded before adding, “and Bucky?”
Bucky. He’d been calling him “Barnes” up til that point; seemed most everyone but Steve and the girls did. “Bucky,” you started but stopped, completely unsure what you were going to say. “He feels…safe, I think. I feel calm around him.”
“Safe?” Clint asked, head cocked a little to the side.
“Before I came here, I’m not sure I knew what that felt like. I think that's what I feel. Like I could, I dunno, relax when he’s there. I don’t feel like I need to be watching for something over my shoulder. I think, to me, that’s what ‘safe’ is.”
“I think it may be a little more than that,” Clint replied quietly, but he didn’t mention the small smile he’d seen on your face as you thought about Bucky. “Safe” or not, you liked being with Bucky, and since he had an inkling of how Bucky seemed to be feeling about you, Clint was feeling a little like meddling. “Wonder what would happen if-”
His train of thought cut off as he watched the team land. He connected the room’s sound system to the com channel and confirmed connection with the team.
“This is the Bird’s Nest calling, do you copy?”
“Just a little professionalism, Clint. That’s all I ask,” was Steve’s response.
“I’ll take that as a ‘copy’ then,” Clint smiled at you.
“Seriously, it’s not worth the effort Cap, he’s not gonna change,” Natasha added.
The “away team” consisted of Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat, & Tony for this trip. Wanda and Vision had decided to go on a trip to Sokovia. Apparently they did that from time to time, as it had been Wanda’s home, and was the place her brother had died, it made sense. You and Clint were the only ones in the compound at the moment. Though you’d heard others, who you’d yet to meet, were at the Tower along with Bruce, they were not engaged with this particular operation. As the team readied to de-plane, you and Clint brought up the remote feeds from the jet’s cameras.
“Do we have any access to HYDRA systems?” You ask, noting the lack of camera angles provided by the jet & Sam’s RedWing.
“Not actively,” Clint said, “could you access those without being noticed?”
“I think so. The security systems are all separate, communicating with each other, but separate entities. If I block the communications between the systems, I could access the cameras without tripping anything else.” Of course, it was more complicated than that, but you were reasonably sure you could do it undetected.
“Hold back unless we need it,” Steve said over the coms. “It may not be necessary and I’d rather not risk it.”
“Yeah, Mr. Safety over here. Who was it that jumped out of a plane with no chute again?” Bucky teased.
“I’d say poke around lightly, just in case,” Tony chimed in, “you never know what you may find.”
“Just hold off.” Steve sounded fed up already, and you were trying not to laugh at his exasperated tone.
“I’ll wait, but know I am ready to try, if you need me,” you said with a smile.
The team communicated their thanks and started their run into the facility.
It went smoothly: in the door, through the elevator shaft and on to the upper most floor with no problem.
That is, until Steve opened a door.
A door you had specifically said not to.
A door to an empty, but alarmed dummy room.
“I told you about those alarms guys!” you all but yelled as alarms started sounding through the coms. “Jesus christ,” you bit out as you started quickly typing code into the keyboard in front of you. Cat was out of the bag now, no sense not trying to access the cameras. Once you had access, you swore again, in several languages.
“That’s a lot of guards,” Clint commented before the two of you began to relay as much information you could between the group.
The aim of the operation quickly switched from “intel gathering” to, “get what you can and get the fuck out”. You left Clint to the intel portion and plowed ahead into HYDRA system code you hadn’t seen or touched in years. You turned on the sprinklers in guard rooms, shut off the lights and ventilation in others. None of the door locks were electronic, but some of the doors could be barred remotely in case of a breach; you popped those open, while frying any electronic defense systems you could find.
The group split into two smaller teams, Nat and Tony on recon, and Steve, Sam, and Bucky on defense. You told Natasha and Tony the most likely locations of computer terminals and watched the cameras as much as you could, but you lost track of Steve, Sam and Bucky fairly quickly. You could hear them on coms every once and a while, but rarely caught flashes of them on any cameras.
The team managed to clear the first level and Tony blasted a new exit for them through what should have been impenetrable layers of concrete and steel, but when the group re-convened at the jet, there was a problem. Sam and Bucky hadn’t exited the building yet. And they weren’t responding to coms.
Steve was quickly losing patience, and all but ran back into the building, but Tony bear hugged him and pulled him, a feet which would have been impossible without his suit, back onto the jet, before engaging a cloaking shield over it.
“We need backup,” Natasha said as Steve and Tony shouted at each other. “The cloaking will keep us out of sight, but we can’t leave them. Especially not-”
“Not Bucky,” you whispered. Your mind was violently yanked back to one of several failed escape attempts. One that ended in a week of starvation and “experiments”. You knew too well what would happen were HYDRA to get their Soldier back.
You looked at Clint and either he was thinking the same as you, or your expression showed your resolve and terror, because his next sentence was, “we’re suiting up. Wheels up in 5.”
The two of you sprinted out of the com room and into the armory. You didn’t have a suit per-se but you knew where Natasha and Wanda had some spare pieces that you could make work. Tony had an awesome wing-ready jacket made for you too. Toughened leather with just enough space for your wings to squeeze out the back without leaving you unprotected. The only clothing you’d kept with you when you arrived had been your boots and you yanked those on as you hopped into the jet just behind Clint.
“FRIDAY, you have the flight plan?” he called as the door began to shut.
“I’ve got it,” the AI replied.
“As fast as we can, take short-cuts, and fuck the speed limits.”
“Got it.” A map of the route popped up in front of the cockpit chairs as you strapped in.
“I don’t know a goddamn thing about flying anything that doesn’t flap its wings, so I hope you know what you’re doing,” you told Clint as you clicked one of the many harness straps into place.
“This part I got,” he replied as the jet shot into the air, “you focus on getting us into the base and finding Wilson and Barnes.”
“HERMES, schematics and a map of the route the team attempted please,” you said aloud while also silently adding, “and basic mechanical guide around this jet if you can”.
“On it, mistress,” he replied in your head, bringing up both a map of the base and multiple pages he must have gotten from FRIDAY related to the jet. You trusted Clint’s ability, but given the way this op went to shit, you wanted to be at least a little prepared for the worst.
“FRIDAY,” you called as you began to glance at the jets’ pseudo-manual.
“Yes, miss?”
“Can you keep running the codes I started before we left, the one into HYDRA’s system?”
“Of course. What am I looking for, miss?”
“See if you can access any building schematics. If not, try to patch one together from the cameras and the alarm and ventilation systems, please”. You had a few hours before you landed, better get as much additional information as you could.
“How’s everyone doing over there?” Clint asked. Natasha, Tony and Steve were a little bruised and battered, but in one piece, but it was the 4th voice that piped in that shocked you.
“Can’t say I’m doing all that well. I can’t find you, uncloak the fucking jet!”
“Sam?!” Steve and Natasha shouted. Tony must have done as asked, because you could hear him through the other’s coms now.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Where’s Bucky?” You and Clint asked at once.
“My com got knocked out of my ear, I had to find the fucking thing. I was with Barnes up until the com fell out. I had to double back. He isn’t here?”
While the others filled Sam in, you had a new question of the AIs. “Can you find Sam on the cameras,” you asked both FRIDAY and HERMES. They supplied you with some stills of Sam in the hallways. “Any shots of Bucky?” Again, several shots popped up, the last two chilled you. Bucky, surrounded on all sides, and then Bucky on the floor. “Fuck! Clint, is there any paper on this jet?”
Clint pointed over to a pack hanging on the wall nearby that proved to have some grid paper and pencils. Yes, you could do this in your head, probably much easier than you could have before HERMES, but you could barely keep your thoughts straight, so paper was less likely to have errors. So you looked closely at the background of all the pictures of Bucky and followed him as far as you could, mapping what you could remember of the facility and using FRIDAY’s new schematics to make your best guess where Bucky could be.
Your only hope was that they didn’t have time to transport him to a different facility before you could get there. You glanced at the map, 3 hours and counting.
Summary: Reader is a HYDRA experiment (like the Maximoffs, but not voluntary) who grows wings (like Angel from X-Men). She escapes, and is now trying to rescue and prevent further kidnappings and experiments.
Word Count: 2373
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of violence… honestly, I’m not even sure anymore
A/N: This isn’t beta-read cause I took for-GODDAMN-ever pulling this from my brain. Honestly, I’ll be shocked if anyone even bothers with me anymore
Spread Your Wings Masterlist
It was days after the incident when you finally left the cell. Though if you were being honest, you wouldn’t have called it a cell. If it weren’t for the fact that all the walls were white, it would have been pretty comfortable. Well, except the fact that where a 4th wall should have been, it was completely clear so you could be monitored; that wasn’t great. It was still leaps and bounds above any other holding area you’d even been seen.
In the time you stayed in the cell, you talked with Tomás everyday. He was settling into his new home, and it sounded like he was starting to actually believe he could trust the family he was with. They were teaching him all about snakes, and he realized he may have more in common with them than just his eyes. The kid didn’t elaborate any more than that. It was great to see a bit of a personality showing through, even if that personality involved being a little sneaky.
Your wing had healed enough that you no longer had to keep it immobile. You wouldn’t be flying anytime soon, but it didn’t kill you to hold your wings up enough to keep the tips from dragging on the ground. That was win enough, because even though Tony kept the Tower floors spotless, it still felt dirty to drag the feathers on the floor. Plus, removing the broken ones was not a completely painless process.
After all the drama, the trigger removal had actually been incredibly straight forward. You didn’t understand a goddamn thing about the process, but one video conference and a short procedure that you’d been able to sleep through, and poof, no more HYDRA triggers. At least that’s how it seemed. When you had made mention of the seeming ease of the procedure, Tony must have read the uncertainty on your face, because he smilingly produced a small box.
“And here is your extra insurance policy,” he said with a wink.
Curious, you opened the box to see a small silver, cuff style bracelet. You gave him a questioning look as he reached in and opened the bracelet, holding it out for you to slide your wrist into.
“It’s vibranium,” Tony explained, “as close as we can figure, something in the metal itself acts as a rudimentary release for you. This way, if Barnes and or Rogers aren’t close, you have some on you at all times.” That had an odd thought popping into your head. How exactly would Steve release you? Toss his shield at you and hope that when you touched it, that minuscule contact would be enough to bring you back? It was a good thing that wasn't a theory you needed to test.
Tony secured the slim bracelet with a decorative screw set into the side; it wouldn’t be popping open on its own at least. When he released your arm, you pulled the bracelet closer to really look at it. There were gorgeous, but understated designs etched into the entire body of the bracelet, and when you looked closer, you spotted stylized wings throughout. You smiled and met Tony’s eyes when you looked up.
“Thank you Tony, it does make me feel safer. And it’s beautiful.”
“Just cause it’s got a purpose doesn’t mean it can’t look expensive.” Tony gave you a smirk, and led you out of the cell.
You sat still while Natasha and Bucky ran though your trigger words in every language they could, then the very few they weren’t fluent in, FRIDAY subbed in. Your triggers no longer worked in any known language. You still weren't ready to breathe a sigh of relief, but your shoulders definitely felt lighter.
All that being said, when the team started planning for their next run at a HYDRA facility, it seemed like every butterfly on the planet was somehow in your stomach.
The team invited you into the conference room with them, and when you piped in, they took your comments to heart. Once again, FRIDAY and Hermes, who’d been revived not long after your trigger removal, worked seamlessly together to supply augmented blueprints and as much detail as you could provide. You kept your demeanor as calm as you could; deep, even breaths, and controlled tone of voice, you didn’t want everyone in the room to know just how shit-your-pants scared you were.
You’d tangled with HYDRA countless times by now. How was it possible they still affected you to this degree? Weakness. You should be stronger than this.
The group broke for a while to let Tony and Steve cool off, for some reason they ended up butting heads about something every single time a plan needed to be made. It almost seemed like they just disagreed on principle, but you hadn’t been around long enough to make that decision.
While most of the others went to either the kitchen or their own space, you went to the roof. It was a windy day, and when you let your wings spread, it almost felt like flying. The sensation of air moving the small filaments of your feathers was soothing, and it let your mind wander while silently assuring yourself you weren’t trapped. Closing your eyes, you leaned slightly into the wind.
If the team decided to go after HYDRA in the way they planned, you needed to go with them. You couldn’t guarantee their safety if you weren't there. You owed them quite a bit, the least you could do was have their backs. Even though the thought of walking back into HYDRA’s range was fucking terrifying. You’d do it.
“No one expects you to be okay going back there.”
Your wings tightened to your back on instinct, though you kept yourself from whirling to face Bucky when his voice spoke from very close behind you.
You turned slowly, meeting his eyes with a small smile. “Second time sneaking up on me now, I must be slipping.”
“Nah, you just feel safe up here so you let your guard down,” Bucky shrugged, his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked up almost right beside you. You almost reached out to stop him.
“We can step back,” you suggested, knowing he would be more comfortable. Bucky smiled a little and stepped back several paces. When you followed he repeated his statement.
“Nobody expects you to be okay going back there, doll.”
You exhaled heavily, “Why does this still… I thought with the triggers gone- Fuck, I didn’t even know the fuckers were there until what, a week ago? How can it fuck me up so much?” Your shoulders sagged, and you wanted to throw something, there was nothing around, and it wouldn’t help, but god you wanted to chuck something anyway. You had turned away from Bucky at some point, but he grabbed your wrist. When you looked over your shoulder at him, you realized that you had taken several steps toward the edge of the roof. You couldn’t tell if the discomfort on his face was due to his proximity to the edge, or because you were primed for take off, but it was clearly there, so you stepped back towards him.
“Sorry,” you said, not meeting his eyes. When he didn’t release your wrist, you spoke again. “I’m alright, I’ll be fine.”
Instead of responding, Bucky tugged on your wrist. You looked up and met his eyes, but he tugged again. You took another step towards him, confused but curious. You end up pulled up against him in a tight hug, and you froze for a moment, your body stiffening at the sudden contact before relaxing slowly. Your arms come up under his, your palms resting on his shoulder blades as you rested your cheek lightly against his chest.
“Take a deep breath,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, and you felt the vibrations against your cheek and at the top of your head where Bucky rested his chin. “Nothing to be sorry for. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t know before now. You’re supposed to be able to trust your own mind, and to find out that you can’t, no matter how long or short, is goddamn terrifying. No one here is judging you, least of all me.” His arms had your upper arms held against your sides, one of his hands above your wing stalks and the other at your lower back, like he was trying to make sure you couldn’t leave. You still could have if the situation had called for it, but he clearly felt like he had to hold on. Normally, you would feel uncomfortable, out of control, but this wasn’t the first time Bucky had held you in some way. He hadn’t tried to hurt you in any of the previous times, so though it wasn’t completely comfortable, it felt… good. He was warm and solid, and … safe? Is that what you felt? Fucking stupid thing for someone your age to be asking. “Is this what ‘safe’ feels like?”.
“Bruce thinks your wing ought to be healed enough to train a little,” Bucky said after a while, “but no one thinks you're going on missions with us until your wings are 100 percent. And even then, it’s your choice.” His arms tightened and his head tilted down, his lips by your ear. “It’ll always be your choice now.”
That one sentence had you fighting back a sob. A fight you lost.
You had no clue how long you stood there. Bucky didn’t complain, or shift uncomfortably, he only held you close and occasionally rubbed small circles on your back. You hadn’t cried in front of someone in longer than you could remember, since you were a child, but the discomfort only came once the tears had dried up. Only then did you wonder how exactly you ended a hug. They’d been a rare occurrence for you, outside the kids you helped, and with the kids, you only gave the briefest of squeezes unless they clung to you.
You must have shifted, because Bucky’s arms loosened, allowing you to pull back. Quickly, you turned your face away and scrubbed at your eyes, grateful you didn’t bother with makeup that morning.
“Well, just in case I hadn’t made enough of a fool of myself,” you laughed humorlessly, turning your face to the sun. Behind you, Bucky scoffed.
“Not like everyone else here hasn’t had a meltdown. Hell, Stevie and Tony were practically screaming and pulling each other’s hair this morning. Over granola bars.”
You laughed a little and lightly shook out your wings, releasing the tension there. “Did they narrow down the location yet?” you asked, moving back into comfortable conversation territory.
“Dunno, I haven’t checked. Let's go see,” Bucky said, indicating toward the door with his head. You nodded and fell in step beside him, giving your cheeks one more swipe to make sure there weren’t obvious tear tracks.
Moments later, you were back in the conference room, looking in disbelief at the location code in front of you.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
That had the entire team looking at you with varying levels of concern and interest.
“Un-fucking-believable,” you growled, looking through the papers stacked beneath the one you read the location code on. Nope, you hadn’t read that wrong. You resisted the urge to chuck the entire stack of paper across the room, knowing it would only make your day suck more, but you shoved your chair back from the table and paced instead.
“Share with the class?” Tony asked, looking at you over the top of his glasses.
“Fuck off, Professor,” you reply, still pacing, your hands in your hair.
“Y/N,” Wanda calls, “please tell us what has you upset.”
You freeze in place and rattle off the location code
“Siberia somewhere,” Natasha translates, while Tony has FRIDAY opening a satellite image of the location at the same time.
You turn to look and for a second you can feel the snow and ice biting at your exposed skin. The scrubs you’d been wearing were thin, and the lab coat you’d swiped wasn’t much better. You’d been out there in socks for fuck’s sake.
“Y/N.” You shook your head a little, but didn’t look at Steve, instead, you crossed closer to the image FRIDAY was displaying.
“That’s the only door in or out of the facility. It reaches 12 stories down and there’s only one central elevator shaft. I can only tell you about the security they had, no idea if that’s changed, or how.” You took a deep breath before continuing, “I can give you the layout I remember, but again, it may have changed since-” Someone’s hand was on your shoulder.
Natasha. She squeezed your shoulder just slightly before she spoke. “Is this the place? The one you escaped?”
“Yeah.” Your voice sounded scratchy to your ears and you cleared your throat before speaking again. “Home sweet home.”
“Have HERMES transmit what you know, and go take a break,” Tony instructed. “We’ll handle this. If you feel up to it, you can work coms, but you’re not going back to that shithole.”
You stopped dead, and shook your head a little. “What?”
“You’re not coming with us. Period.”
“But-”
“No.”
You looked at Steve, but he and Tony were agreeing for once it seemed. He stood firmly, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed, shaking his head at you.
“You can help just as much without being there, Y/N,” he said, “You can stay back here and run coms. Clint’ll be back soon and he’s sitting this one out too. Try and keep him on track.”. You double blinked.
“O-okay then. I’m happy to help Clint back here.”
“Did I hear my name?” Clint half shouted as his head popped in the door.
Steve sighed and walked over to you before setting a hand he shoulder Natasha had squeezed. “Good luck,” he mumbled and patted your shoulder before moving past you.
Clint walked in, rolled his eyes at Steve and gave you a sneaky grin. Well, at least you had an idea what to expect from Clint. This may not be so bad.
Summary: Reader is a HYDRA experiment (like the Maximoffs, but not voluntary) who grows wings (like Angel from X-Men). She escapes, and is now trying to rescue and prevent further kidnappings and experiments.
Word Count: 2373
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of violence… honestly, I’m not even sure anymore
A/N: This isn’t beta-read cause I took for-GODDAMN-ever pulling this from my brain. Honestly, I’ll be shocked if anyone even bothers with me anymore
Spread Your Wings Masterlist
It was days after the incident when you finally left the cell. Though if you were being honest, you wouldn’t have called it a cell. If it weren’t for the fact that all the walls were white, it would have been pretty comfortable. Well, except the fact that where a 4th wall should have been, it was completely clear so you could be monitored; that wasn’t great. It was still leaps and bounds above any other holding area you’d even been seen.
In the time you stayed in the cell, you talked with Tomás everyday. He was settling into his new home, and it sounded like he was starting to actually believe he could trust the family he was with. They were teaching him all about snakes, and he realized he may have more in common with them than just his eyes. The kid didn’t elaborate any more than that. It was great to see a bit of a personality showing through, even if that personality involved being a little sneaky.
Your wing had healed enough that you no longer had to keep it immobile. You wouldn’t be flying anytime soon, but it didn’t kill you to hold your wings up enough to keep the tips from dragging on the ground. That was win enough, because even though Tony kept the Tower floors spotless, it still felt dirty to drag the feathers on the floor. Plus, removing the broken ones was not a completely painless process.
After all the drama, the trigger removal had actually been incredibly straight forward. You didn’t understand a goddamn thing about the process, but one video conference and a short procedure that you’d been able to sleep through, and poof, no more HYDRA triggers. At least that’s how it seemed. When you had made mention of the seeming ease of the procedure, Tony must have read the uncertainty on your face, because he smilingly produced a small box.
“And here is your extra insurance policy,” he said with a wink.
Curious, you opened the box to see a small silver, cuff style bracelet. You gave him a questioning look as he reached in and opened the bracelet, holding it out for you to slide your wrist into.
“It’s vibranium,” Tony explained, “as close as we can figure, something in the metal itself acts as a rudimentary release for you. This way, if Barnes and or Rogers aren’t close, you have some on you at all times.” That had an odd thought popping into your head. How exactly would Steve release you? Toss his shield at you and hope that when you touched it, that minuscule contact would be enough to bring you back? It was a good thing that wasn't a theory you needed to test.
Tony secured the slim bracelet with a decorative screw set into the side; it wouldn’t be popping open on its own at least. When he released your arm, you pulled the bracelet closer to really look at it. There were gorgeous, but understated designs etched into the entire body of the bracelet, and when you looked closer, you spotted stylized wings throughout. You smiled and met Tony’s eyes when you looked up.
“Thank you Tony, it does make me feel safer. And it’s beautiful.”
“Just cause it’s got a purpose doesn’t mean it can’t look expensive.” Tony gave you a smirk, and led you out of the cell.
You sat still while Natasha and Bucky ran though your trigger words in every language they could, then the very few they weren’t fluent in, FRIDAY subbed in. Your triggers no longer worked in any known language. You still weren't ready to breathe a sigh of relief, but your shoulders definitely felt lighter.
All that being said, when the team started planning for their next run at a HYDRA facility, it seemed like every butterfly on the planet was somehow in your stomach.
The team invited you into the conference room with them, and when you piped in, they took your comments to heart. Once again, FRIDAY and Hermes, who’d been revived not long after your trigger removal, worked seamlessly together to supply augmented blueprints and as much detail as you could provide. You kept your demeanor as calm as you could; deep, even breaths, and controlled tone of voice, you didn’t want everyone in the room to know just how shit-your-pants scared you were.
You’d tangled with HYDRA countless times by now. How was it possible they still affected you to this degree? Weakness. You should be stronger than this.
The group broke for a while to let Tony and Steve cool off, for some reason they ended up butting heads about something every single time a plan needed to be made. It almost seemed like they just disagreed on principle, but you hadn’t been around long enough to make that decision.
While most of the others went to either the kitchen or their own space, you went to the roof. It was a windy day, and when you let your wings spread, it almost felt like flying. The sensation of air moving the small filaments of your feathers was soothing, and it let your mind wander while silently assuring yourself you weren’t trapped. Closing your eyes, you leaned slightly into the wind.
If the team decided to go after HYDRA in the way they planned, you needed to go with them. You couldn’t guarantee their safety if you weren't there. You owed them quite a bit, the least you could do was have their backs. Even though the thought of walking back into HYDRA’s range was fucking terrifying. You’d do it.
“No one expects you to be okay going back there.”
Your wings tightened to your back on instinct, though you kept yourself from whirling to face Bucky when his voice spoke from very close behind you.
You turned slowly, meeting his eyes with a small smile. “Second time sneaking up on me now, I must be slipping.”
“Nah, you just feel safe up here so you let your guard down,” Bucky shrugged, his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked up almost right beside you. You almost reached out to stop him.
“We can step back,” you suggested, knowing he would be more comfortable. Bucky smiled a little and stepped back several paces. When you followed he repeated his statement.
“Nobody expects you to be okay going back there, doll.”
You exhaled heavily, “Why does this still… I thought with the triggers gone- Fuck, I didn’t even know the fuckers were there until what, a week ago? How can it fuck me up so much?” Your shoulders sagged, and you wanted to throw something, there was nothing around, and it wouldn’t help, but god you wanted to chuck something anyway. You had turned away from Bucky at some point, but he grabbed your wrist. When you looked over your shoulder at him, you realized that you had taken several steps toward the edge of the roof. You couldn’t tell if the discomfort on his face was due to his proximity to the edge, or because you were primed for take off, but it was clearly there, so you stepped back towards him.
“Sorry,” you said, not meeting his eyes. When he didn’t release your wrist, you spoke again. “I’m alright, I’ll be fine.”
Instead of responding, Bucky tugged on your wrist. You looked up and met his eyes, but he tugged again. You took another step towards him, confused but curious. You end up pulled up against him in a tight hug, and you froze for a moment, your body stiffening at the sudden contact before relaxing slowly. Your arms come up under his, your palms resting on his shoulder blades as you rested your cheek lightly against his chest.
“Take a deep breath,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, and you felt the vibrations against your cheek and at the top of your head where Bucky rested his chin. “Nothing to be sorry for. It doesn’t matter if you didn’t know before now. You’re supposed to be able to trust your own mind, and to find out that you can’t, no matter how long or short, is goddamn terrifying. No one here is judging you, least of all me.” His arms had your upper arms held against your sides, one of his hands above your wing stalks and the other at your lower back, like he was trying to make sure you couldn’t leave. You still could have if the situation had called for it, but he clearly felt like he had to hold on. Normally, you would feel uncomfortable, out of control, but this wasn’t the first time Bucky had held you in some way. He hadn’t tried to hurt you in any of the previous times, so though it wasn’t completely comfortable, it felt… good. He was warm and solid, and … safe? Is that what you felt? Fucking stupid thing for someone your age to be asking. “Is this what ‘safe’ feels like?”.
“Bruce thinks your wing ought to be healed enough to train a little,” Bucky said after a while, “but no one thinks you're going on missions with us until your wings are 100 percent. And even then, it’s your choice.” His arms tightened and his head tilted down, his lips by your ear. “It’ll always be your choice now.”
That one sentence had you fighting back a sob. A fight you lost.
You had no clue how long you stood there. Bucky didn’t complain, or shift uncomfortably, he only held you close and occasionally rubbed small circles on your back. You hadn’t cried in front of someone in longer than you could remember, since you were a child, but the discomfort only came once the tears had dried up. Only then did you wonder how exactly you ended a hug. They’d been a rare occurrence for you, outside the kids you helped, and with the kids, you only gave the briefest of squeezes unless they clung to you.
You must have shifted, because Bucky’s arms loosened, allowing you to pull back. Quickly, you turned your face away and scrubbed at your eyes, grateful you didn’t bother with makeup that morning.
“Well, just in case I hadn’t made enough of a fool of myself,” you laughed humorlessly, turning your face to the sun. Behind you, Bucky scoffed.
“Not like everyone else here hasn’t had a meltdown. Hell, Stevie and Tony were practically screaming and pulling each other’s hair this morning. Over granola bars.”
You laughed a little and lightly shook out your wings, releasing the tension there. “Did they narrow down the location yet?” you asked, moving back into comfortable conversation territory.
“Dunno, I haven’t checked. Let's go see,” Bucky said, indicating toward the door with his head. You nodded and fell in step beside him, giving your cheeks one more swipe to make sure there weren’t obvious tear tracks.
Moments later, you were back in the conference room, looking in disbelief at the location code in front of you.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
That had the entire team looking at you with varying levels of concern and interest.
“Un-fucking-believable,” you growled, looking through the papers stacked beneath the one you read the location code on. Nope, you hadn’t read that wrong. You resisted the urge to chuck the entire stack of paper across the room, knowing it would only make your day suck more, but you shoved your chair back from the table and paced instead.
“Share with the class?” Tony asked, looking at you over the top of his glasses.
“Fuck off, Professor,” you reply, still pacing, your hands in your hair.
“Y/N,” Wanda calls, “please tell us what has you upset.”
You freeze in place and rattle off the location code
“Siberia somewhere,” Natasha translates, while Tony has FRIDAY opening a satellite image of the location at the same time.
You turn to look and for a second you can feel the snow and ice biting at your exposed skin. The scrubs you’d been wearing were thin, and the lab coat you’d swiped wasn’t much better. You’d been out there in socks for fuck’s sake.
“Y/N.” You shook your head a little, but didn’t look at Steve, instead, you crossed closer to the image FRIDAY was displaying.
“That’s the only door in or out of the facility. It reaches 12 stories down and there’s only one central elevator shaft. I can only tell you about the security they had, no idea if that’s changed, or how.” You took a deep breath before continuing, “I can give you the layout I remember, but again, it may have changed since-” Someone’s hand was on your shoulder.
Natasha. She squeezed your shoulder just slightly before she spoke. “Is this the place? The one you escaped?”
“Yeah.” Your voice sounded scratchy to your ears and you cleared your throat before speaking again. “Home sweet home.”
“Have HERMES transmit what you know, and go take a break,” Tony instructed. “We’ll handle this. If you feel up to it, you can work coms, but you’re not going back to that shithole.”
You stopped dead, and shook your head a little. “What?”
“You’re not coming with us. Period.”
“But-”
“No.”
You looked at Steve, but he and Tony were agreeing for once it seemed. He stood firmly, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed, shaking his head at you.
“You can help just as much without being there, Y/N,” he said, “You can stay back here and run coms. Clint’ll be back soon and he’s sitting this one out too. Try and keep him on track.”. You double blinked.
“O-okay then. I’m happy to help Clint back here.”
“Did I hear my name?” Clint half shouted as his head popped in the door.
Steve sighed and walked over to you before setting a hand he shoulder Natasha had squeezed. “Good luck,” he mumbled and patted your shoulder before moving past you.
Clint walked in, rolled his eyes at Steve and gave you a sneaky grin. Well, at least you had an idea what to expect from Clint. This may not be so bad.
summary: just after finishing college and your first novel, you meet bucky barnes - a friend of a friend, a publisher, and hopefully something more
pairing: publisher!bucky x author!reader
word count: -
warnings: explicit language, sexual thoughts and feelings, eventual smut (minors dni - will be marked with *), age gap (undefined - reader is early twenties, bucky is mid thirties), alcohol consumption, more specified in each chapter
Although Shuri and her magic machines could heal your injuries, they weren’t able to give you back the muscle you’d lost on the RAFT. Sitting in one place, not really being able to move for prolonged periods, and malnutrition had left you with far less muscle than before.
Just walking was a struggle; you felt like a baby giraffe.
The first time you walked past a mirror, you didn’t recognize the woman on the other side. She was sickly thin, and looked like she hadn’t seen the sun in months. But then, you hadn’t had you? You’d lost weight, and looked beyond exhausted, even though it felt like all you’d done since being rescued was sleep.
There was a full length mirror in your room in Wakanda. For a while you’d refused to look in it. Not afraid of what you’d see, but disgusted by it; angered, and frustrated.
Then you’d broken it.
As you’d very carefully taken yourself across the room after another hour of physical therapy, you’d stumbled at the mirror. You caught yourself on the corner of the dresser right next to the mirror, and when you turned your head, you could see yourself reflected in it. Sweaty, unkempt, weak. The angry, bitter voice in your head picked up on that word. You looked weak.
Then the tears had begun.
You fell to your hands and knees, still in front of the fucking mirror. As soon as you looked up, there she was again, the weak, crying, pathetic creature. You. You were the creature.
Apparently you’d screamed. And you must have swung both your fists at the mirror multiple times, but you didn’t remember.
Then someone was in the room with you, pulling your arms away from the shattered glass, and pulling your body back into theirs. Comforting you. Fuck that. You didn’t want comfort. You didn’t know what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t need an audience.
You fought, but the person holding you had the benefit of not being recently held captive and starved, so they outlasted you. “Weak,” the voice taunted. More tears.
“I know. Believe me, I know. It won’t be like this forever. I promise. You’re gonna get better. One day, soon, you’ll look in the mirror and know who you are. You’ll be yourself again.” The arms around you loosened a fraction as the voice soothed. The person was rocking slightly too, lulling you. Frustration at being unable to even express what you wanted, what you were angry about had even more tears pushing forward. Your body was shivering, and you couldn’t stop.
“Weak, useless,” the voice repeated.
“All you gotta do right now is breathe, ok? That’s it. Everything else can wait a fucking minute. All you gotta do is breathe. We’ll fix the other shit later, but you gotta breathe, Y/N!” He didn’t shout, the man holding you, but his voice was firm, and his arms squeezed a bit when he said your name.
Slowly, your breathing evened out. Painfully slow. Honestly, you have no idea how long you sat there. But when you eventually regained a little equilibrium, it was to realize that your soulmate was holding you, sobbing and bleeding in front of your very broken mirror.
When you looked up and met his eyes in the glass, you saw dozens of Buckys, each looking grim faced and sad, holding dozens of yous, each looking like a nightmare come to life.
“Hey there. You alright?”
You almost laughed. “No,” your voice was gravelly with the crying and screaming, so you tried to clear it before speaking again. “I’m pretty sure I’m not alright.”
Bucky’s reflection gave a little half smile in response. “At least you’re honest. Think I can move ya, get ya cleaned up?” he asked.
When you nodded, he scooped you up off the floor and walked to the door to your en suite bathroom. He settled you on the counter next to the sink and dug under said sink for a moment before coming up with a small box of very fancy looking first aid supplies.
You didn’t ask what any of it did, just watched Bucky clean and treat your hands. You had more than a few cuts on your knuckles and the sides of your palms, but he ministered to them all quickly and efficiently. Watching the repetitive movements was soothing. It wasn’t until he touched something cool to your cheek that you realized you’d checked out.
“Back with me, doll?”
“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head slightly before he applied some kind of gel to a small cut on your cheek.
“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” Bucky replied, “just checking on ya.”
You snorted. “I shouldn’t be sorry for making you feel like you need to?” Weak.
He took your chin in his vibranium hand then, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“You ain’t making me do anything. If I had it my way, I’d be glued to your side right now, but the doc’s say I should give you space. I’ve been tryin’ to.” He released your chin and stepped back a bit. “Y/N…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
You looked at the floor. “I hate this.” You muttered.
“Hate what?”
“This,” you gestured vaguely at yourself, “what I’ve become. Fucking weak. Useless.” Again. You were useless again.
“You are NOT useless,” Bucky exhaled. “You aren’t now, and you certainly weren’t before. Aren’t you the one who solved the whole fucking problem in the first place?”
Uh… ok, the angry voice on your head had no response to that.
“Yeah, you’re the one who found the experiment to clear my head, you’re the one who went out there and got ahold of it. You’re the one who survived in that fucked up prison twice. Twice, Y/N. You did all that.” His voice was raised, but not quite yelling. “You are the whole reason I’m even here, Y/N. You’re not useless.”
When your eyes met he seemed to draw in on himself a little. “And now I’m yelling at ya. Shit. I’m sorry.” He ran his hands through his hair, grabbing at it with his right hand.
“S’ok,” you rasped quietly. When he looked at you again, you gave him a half smile. “I think I needed to hear it.”
“We haven’t even had a proper conversation yet and I’m yelling at you? Not a great start.” Bucky chuckled a little, self-deprecatingly.
“I don’t think anything we’ve done so far could have counted as a good place to start anything.” You took a deep breath and scooted yourself forward on the counter until you could lower your feet to the floor. Once you were standing, you spoke again, “So let’s start here. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,\. I’m a hot mess, and your soulmate.”
Bucky chuckled.
…
Several months since your rescue.
You were back to sparing regularly with Natasha, and not having the shit kicked out of you. Okoye had offered to spar with you too, but you were more than slightly intimidated by the badass general, and were leery of taking her up on her offer. She found your hesitance amusing for some reason.
It was just at the end of a session with Steve that Bucky entered the room. He didn’t announce himself, didn’t even really make noise, but you knew. Your right wrist burned and it distracted you, but not as much as it used to; not enough for Steve to get around you. You still managed to pin him.
“Back to beating up old men? Y/N, I thought you’d reformed,” You looked up to see Natasha tsking at you from behind where Bucky stood just inside the door.
“Eh, it’s just the mouthy blond ones. I still consider this growth,” you replied, standing and offering Steve a hand.
“Ya know, sometimes I wish the two of you hadn’t met,” Steve grumbled good-naturedly.
“No, you don’t. Cause then I wouldn’t have been there to save ALL your asses when SHIELD imploded,” you tossed over your shoulder as you turned and launched yourself at Bucky.
Bucky, now used to your antics, smiled and caught you. “Hey babydoll. You done kicking Stevie’s ass?”
“I let her win,” Steve proclaimed, though it was half-hearted.
“You were never a good liar, punk.” Bucky said as he cuddled you close and nuzzled your hair. He did that a lot, and you would never understand.
“Buck, I’m a sweaty mess. What are you doing?” You were laughing, and wiggling to be let loose, even floating higher off the ground, but he tightened his arms until you had lifted him a good 6 inches off the ground too.
“I happen to have no problem with you being all sweaty,” he whispered in your ear as he squeezed your waist. When you lowered back to the ground, he released you, but kept hold of your hand.
“Oh, I know you don’t.” You blew him a kiss.
“Barf. I am actually sick now.” Sam was shielding his eyes as he walked past you and up to Steve. “Just wanted to let you all know, we’ve got the call set up and ready.”
“The call”. The group video call with the rest of your family. Tony, Vision, Rhodey, Wanda, Pietro, Clint, and Scott.
Relationships were still under repair, but the lines of communication were open. There was hope.
A smile spread across your face and you moved to head to your room, planning on showering quickly before the call, but Bucky still had your hand, and he wasn’t moving.
“Babe?” you asked, tugging on your joined hands.
Bucky looked over at you, shaking his head like he was coming out of a daze. “Sorry. Woolgathering,” he smiled as he moved to walk with you.
“Care to share with the class?”
“Just kinda shocked how all this is working out. Stark talks to Steve, to me. I- I wouldn’t have. I don’t think I could have talked to him if the situations were reversed. I can’t believe this is all real.” He squeezed your hand. “You’re a fucking miracle you know that?”
“It wasn’t all me, and you know it, but thank you.” When the two of you reached your room, Bucky kissed your cheek and went to leave, but this time, you kept your hands clasped.
“Thought we could save water,” you smiled when his lips quirked just a little.
“We really should.”
…
It wasn’t until a year or so had passed, that you noticed.
You were back in New York. The Avengers compound had been renovated and updated while you all were gone. Tony said it was done quickly, but you knew he hadn’t made all those changes in just the past few weeks. The updated vibranium shield alone would have taken at least a week, and that wasn’t even mentioning the arm that you had caught sight of in his lab.
You, Bucky and the rest of the group were sitting in the common room, watching as Tony chased after his toddling daughter, Morgan. Bucky was sitting next to you, his arm around your shoulders, laughing at something Pepper was saying when you scratched at your left wrist absently. Then, as you looked down, realizing what you were doing, you noticed.
It was gone.
Your eyes darted around the room, eventually meeting Steve’s. You must have looked as utterly shocked as you felt, because he was up, and across the room before you could even move.
“Y/N? Are you okay?” Steve’s question had the whole room looking at you. Even Morgan stopped running.
“Baby?” Bucky had turned, his entire focus on you. The beer bottle that had been in his other hand was quickly set down and his now empty hand was resting on your knee as the other tightened around your shoulders.
“It’s gone,” you said, still stunned. You didn’t know when it had happened. It must have been gradual. It couldn’t have just disappeared, could it? How did you not notice it begin to fade?
“What’s gone?” Bucky asked.
In response, you raised your left arm and repeated. “It’s gone,” your voice cracked as you fought not to cry.
The W.S. that had been with you all your life, the sign that the Winter Soldier still lived, was gone.
