Chapter Text
Stark… Avengers? Stark Tower melted around them.
The clean white walls replaced themselves with the metallic plated tunnels Valentina had preferred. The walls opened into windows, and on top were overlaid screens filled with constant text streams of data. The bar Valentina had taunted them at the first time they met Sentry appeared bottle by expensive bottle, a few dirty glasses in the sanitizer sink. A sofa unhelpfully manifested right under Walker, tripping him.
For a moment, they were all silent. The only noise was Ava and Yelena’s half-stifled laughter as Walker righted himself, glaring at them.
“Right. Great.” Walker clenched his jaw. “I need to not see any of you for the next three to four business days.”
“Agreed.” Ava replied, and without prompting the Thunderbolts (or New Avengers, depending on who you asked) separated.
-
They had a battle stimulator, technically. One that allowed him to select the type of enemy, the number, the field circumstances. It was good for team bonding, but comparatively? Nothing like a good punching bag.
There was something calming about the rhythmic thud thud thud as Walker hit it over and over again.
To some extent, he hoped that the world reset as soon as they left. He had really screwed things up for his past self.
Or made it better?
He supposed he’d never know. He’d always considered himself a Soldier first and foremost, something he had yanked away from his 2012 self almost immediately. But being a soldier was what led to that Latvia Resettlement Camp, to the stripping of his title, to the death of his reputation and his relationships and everything he knew-
All he could do was lose himself in the thud thud thud to get rid of the crunch clang click in his head.
-
“Hello?”
Ava let out a long breath. “Hey, Bill.”
“Ava!” His voice brightened, and Ava smiled to herself. “It’s been awhile, how have you been?”
“Yeah.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Busy, it’s been… busy.”
“I’d imagine.” She could almost hear his eyebrow raise over the phone. “New Avenger?”
“Oh god, don’t call me that.” She laughed. “Valentina just said that to get the press off her back. We call ourselves the Thunderbolts.”
“And that name’s… better?”
“It’s mostly to make fun of one of our teammates.” She admitted. “It’s the name of her peewee soccer team.”
“That sounds more like you.”
“Yeah,” she repeated, relaxing fully for the first time in weeks. “But enough about me. How’s… how’s college? How’s your classes?”
“Oh, you would never believe a paper one of my students tried to turn in-”
Ava turned her phone to speaker, leaning back into her chair and listening to her unofficial father figure regale her with atrocious grammar mistakes and attempts to save failing grades.
-
Bucky found himself in the kitchen. The oven was turned on, a pan already sitting on top of it with butter sizzling and moving itself around. The mixer was on low. Bucky watched it dispassionately, carefully adding an egg to the mixing bowl and scraping at the sides with a spatula.
His phone was on, the contacts app open to Sam. He hadn’t decided if he was going to call or text yet.
He hadn’t decided much of anything, yet.
It was strange to think of how much differently Siberia could have gone. If Steve told Stark, if he told Stark, instead of trying to keep it a secret until the knowledge was forced upon him by Zemo.
Watching it happen, shown by someone who wanted to tear them apart, as opposed to being told by a friend.. that certainly didn’t make it better.
He removed the batter from the mixer, pouring a bit of it into little pancake disks on the pan.
There was much to think about.
-
“I’m going to visit Natasha.”
Alexei turned towards the doorway of his room. Yelena was lingering there, out of her combat suit in a more comfortable combination of a tank top, sweater, and jeans. A small bouquet of purple Columbine and peach Gladiolus was clutched tightly in her hands.
“I’m sure she will love the flowers.” Alexei acknowledged softly.
“Did you… want to come?”
The question struck him silent for a moment, his mouth working open and closed as he tried to find an answer. “Me?”
“Sure.” She smiled that sad smile- the one of longing and grief that he wished she never had to feel. “I’ve been meaning to show you where she is anyway. Or, where I go to talk to her.” She looked away, out Alexei’s window even though there was nothing really there. He had selected the room with the worst view on purpose, mostly covered by billboards. “She’s not really there, but… sometimes it feels like she is.”
“I.. yes,” he nodded quickly, trying to smother his worry that she’d change her mind. “Let me just change, and I will come.”
“I’ll just be downstairs.”
Alexei set down the framed image he had been holding. It was the one of Natasha and Yelena, crouching in the front row of their soccer team pictures. Then, on second thought, he picked it up again and carefully removed it from its frame.
Natasha would want it.
-
Bob had settled in the movie room, reclined on one of the red chairs Valentina had splurged on for them. At the beginning, she had spent a lot of money on pretty much whatever additions they had wanted to the tower, folding under every vaguely threatening look Yelena had sent her. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, it was that she was threatening- but it worked. And Bob had put in a polite request for a movie theater room. He had wanted one since middle school, the second he knew they existed, but never thought it realistic.
It was weird to think he had one.
But none of what had happened in his life up to this point was ‘realistic’.
Overlapping ticking came from the speakers as the camera panned over an entire wall of novelty clocks as the opening credits of Back to the Future began.
It had felt topical.
The low droning of the radio began, and Bob absentmindedly mouthed the words along with it, digging into his novelty popcorn.
For once, just for now, he let everything feel normal.