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Of all the ways the year could have ended, this was a pretty shit one.
31st January, and you were stuck in the literal middle of nowhere. As in, somewhere in the frozen wastelands of deep, deep Siberia. Safe to say, it wasn’t where you’d planned on being.
Two days previous, the team had been contacted with a high-priority mission - something that didn’t require a lot of manpower, but needed to be dealt with quickly and quietly. Quick and quiet always called for the micro-team affectionately dubbed ‘The Sneaky Assholes’ by Sam. The team consisted of you, Bucky, Nat and Clint - aka the spies and assassins, rather than the soldiers and magic people. Technically, you were also a magic person, but your background as an assassin and your time with SHIELD meant that you were also one super-stealthy bitch.
You hadn’t exactly jumped at the mission detail, but sadly there hadn’t really been much choice. When Tony got the call about the mission, he’d summoned everyone to the common area to discuss the best course of action, but you all knew that he’d already decided who was going. So you’d sighed and pouted and complained a little bit, but when he assured you’d be back for New Years and his infamous party, you begrudgingly accepted and left to get packed.
In fairness, it was pretty simple. An outpost of some HYDRA offshoot that contained a skeleton crew and some highly important research that involved their human experimentation. The thought was that it was rare to get such a small base, and this was their chance to get a step ahead of them - find out their plans, their contacts, possible locations. It definitely wasn’t an opportunity to be missed. Get in, get the information, get out. Killing accepted but to be done quietly because you didn’t want them to alert anyone outside of the outpost.
You’d left the following morning, after spending several hours holed up in bed with Steve, as was tradition before either of you left for a mission without the other. By the time he was carrying your bag and escorting you to the lift, you had messy hair and a dopey smile.
“I mean this in a loving way,” drawled Bucky, eyeing you with a sly grin as he joined you in the lift. “But you might want to make it a little less obvious you just got fucked up against a wall.”
“Buck, c’mon man,” Steve mumbled, embarrassment making his cheeks flush red as you whacked his metal arm hard enough to make your fingers sting.
“Could you not?” you demanded, turning to face the mirrored wall.
Your eyes widened a little when you saw your reflection. Flushed cheeks, a bruise forming on your neck, and hair that was tangled enough to resemble a birds nest that had fallen out of a large tree.
You swore under your breath, detangling your hair as best as you could with your fingers and pulling it back into a messy high pony as you ignored the laughter behind you. When the lift was about to approach the roof, Bucky turned to face the door, still laughing. “Your shirt is inside out by the way.”
The lift dinged and he stepped out as you scrambled to hide behind Steve, ripping off your shirt and tugging it back on the right way round with cheeks hot enough to melt snow.
“Oops, my bad,” Steve sang with a smirk, and you jabbed a finger into his ribs before pushing him forward to leave the lift, thankful that due to the angle of the doors the rest of the team hadn’t seen your speedy changing.
“I know you like him, but I can’t promise Bucky’s gonna make it home alive,” you warned Steve with full severity, but he just laughed and tugged you into his side with an arm around your shoulder.
“Right then, good luck all, make it back in one piece and don’t do anything stupid.” Tony ordered with a smile and a clap of his hands. “Oh, and as the only one of you I trust to not be an idiot, Nat’s in charge.”
“What?” you blurted in shock. “Bitch, you don’t trust me? ”
Tony raised an eyebrow, pointing his finger first at Clint, then Bucky, then you. “Clumsy, impulsive and no common sense. 100 year old man who’s a terrifying mix of competitive and lazy. And you, someone who runs head first into danger with anger issues and problems with authority.”
The three of you were silent for a moment.
“Yeah, can’t argue with that.”
“Ok, maybe you have a point.”
“Harsh, but true.”
He smiled, patting Nat on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
The group said their goodbyes, then Steve gave you one last firm kiss and a mumbled ‘i love you’ before he retreated with the others to the edge of the landing pad. You’d already said your proper goodbyes and promises to be safe in the privacy of his room, so you smiled and waved at him and boarded the jet with the others.
It was the depth of the evening by the time you reached the clearing you’d already picked as your landing spot. Far enough from the base that they wouldn’t see you coming, but close enough that you could just about make out the outpost hidden in the mountains while remaining obscured by the thick trees around you. You went over the plan again, and settled in to wait for the right time to put it into motion.
It was almost 2am when you decided it was go time. You put away your phone you had been using to take notes on - you’d all decided to use the time to plan out Lila’s birthday party, because there was nothing else to do - and straightened your uniform. While Nat and Clint were bundled in thick padded jackets, Bucky barely felt the cold with his super-serum blood, and you not only couldn’t feel the cold, but loved it. It was a benefit of your powers, never having to remember to take a jacket with you.
You straightened the long-shirt kevlar shirt, checked the straps of the pistol around your thigh and followed Bucky as you creeped towards the base. There were 4 guards outside the base, 2 on the roof and 2 chatting by the doors, so when you reached the edge of the trees, crouched in the snow, you lined up your shots.
“3, 2, 1, fire!”
As the last word left Clint’s lips, an arrow and 3 sniper shots sent the guards crumpling to the floor in almost silence.
“That was so clean, I feel a little turned on,” you joked, throwing Nat a lascivious wink when she snorted and looked at you with disapproval.
“Keep it in your pants, Y/L/N. Let’s go.”
The journey into the depths of the base went pretty much as smoothly as that. It was a slow process, having to make sure every single person in the facility was picked off - apart from two you kept alive and bound together just in case - without giving them a chance to alert anyone.
You couldn’t afford to go in guns blazing, but stealth was something you all excelled at. Eventually, after double checking the entire base, you determined it was cleared out. As Clint and Bucky kept watch near the entrance, you and Nat took the lift down to the lowest level of the bunker where the labs were.
You didn’t even have to hack your way through the heavily guarded doors as one of the scientists had given up the information before you’d even pointed the gun in his direction. Apparently, watching his coworkers be skewered with your icicles and shot in the head by Nat had made him decide it wasn’t worth fighting. Although, in retrospect, you really should have been suspicious. Nothing was ever that easy.
You’d wandered through the labs and collected every single file - paper and digital - you could find, and in all honesty, your guard was down. Even when you reached the final room, with its heavy door and passcode, you didn’t suspect anything. Not until Nat inserted her modified USB and started to copy the hard drive and what sounded like a hurricane siren suddenly blared at a deafening volume.
You clapped your hands to your ears, recoiling from the machine as the lights in the room turned red and coding started scrolling across one of the screens on the far wall.
“Ok, so they might know we’re here,” you yelled to Nat above the siren, a little bit of panic leaking into your tone.
“The cloning programme must have triggered something, fuck!”
“It might just be to draw attention from inside the compound? That’s what security alarms usually do,” you reasoned, reminding yourself to think calmly rather than go into panic mode which would only get you in further trouble. “Even if it’s contacting another base, we can get out of here before anyone else arrives.”
“Guys, what the hell is going on? What’s with the alarm?” Bucky’s voice crackled through your ear piece, deep breathing suggesting he was running.
“We don’t know, we’re in the last room where the main computer is and when Nat started cloning it, it just started blaring and lighting up like a demon.”
“We were on our way down to you, but Clint and I will go get the jet and bring it here, we need to get out now,” he decided.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, we just-”
“Barnes, Clint, get down here now!”
You spun to face Natasha, surprised to see her face a stark white as she stared in horror at the screen on the far wall. You followed her gaze, stomach dropping as you realised what she’d seen.
The coding was gone, and in its place was the type of radar map that you most often saw on planes and boats - the type used for tracking incoming projectiles. Like missiles.
“Shit, get down here now!” You yelled to the boys through the comms, jumping into action. You swerved around the main console to approach the screens on the wall, eyes glued to the dots approaching much too quickly for comfort. “Can we override it?”
“When they’ve already been launched? Doubt it,” she replied, and you could hear the fear in her voice. She seemed to snap out of her daze though, moving back to the doorway to inspect the frame. “I’m pretty sure this is reinforced, but not as much as the weapons storage room I found down the corridor, we should head there.”
“You think it’s enough?”
She met your eyes, swallowing thickly. “I don’t know, but I don’t see another option. There’s no way we make it out and to safety before they hit.”
The blood was rushing in your ears, and your vision was waving at the edges with fear but you nodded quickly, running behind her down to the opposite end of the corridor to the door marked ‘armoury’. At that second, Bucky and Clint barged into the corridor, panting from the sprint and glancing between you with wide eyes as you shoved them both into the room and secured the door behind them.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?”
You inhaled shakily, sharing a terrified look with Nat before opening your mouth to speak. You never got the chance to answer Clint though, as at that moment the ground began to vibrate violently and a rumbling even more deafening than the siren had you falling to your knees. The boys quickly figured out what was happening, and the four of you crowded into a corner, sharing looks of dread.
You pressed into Bucky’s side, sure that both of you were thinking of the blonde man back in New York. You gripped Nat’s hand and squeezed, thanking her in that one motion for being your sister. You shared a sorrowful smile with Clint, pain ripping through you at the thought of the family who would be left without him. As the shaking picked up and you knew impact was imminent, you channelled every scrap of energy in your body into creating a hard shell of ice around the four of you - maybe this way, at least your bodies would make it back home.
xxx
Your eyes were open before you even realised you were awake. There was a weight on your chest that stopped enough air from reaching your lungs, and you couldn’t feel your left foot. Unable to move, from both the disorientation and whatever was pinning you down, you blinked to clear your vision. When the darkness didn’t clear, you almost began to hyperventilate, instead squeezing your free hand into a tight fist and forcing yourself to breathe. Eventually, it worked, and you realised the darkness was because you were still inside the room, only now the roof was partly gone and you were buried in rubble, scrap metal, and several feet of snow. From what you could see, your ice had frozen across the ceiling, providing shelter from the majority of the building collapsing, and the distant view of the blue sky through the wreckage made your heart sing.
Careful not to move too quickly, you lifted your head to survey what was happening around you. You realised that the reason you couldn’t feel your foot was because it was trapped beneath one of the heavy shelving units, and the reason you were struggling to breath was because Bucky was strewn across your chest.
His head was turned away from you, but even in the low light you could see the blood in his hair that made your fear spike.
“Buck,” you tried to call, but the words came out as a croak that quickly turned into violent coughs. Once it had subsided, you tried again with more success. “Bucky!”
He said nothing, but after a moment he let out a long moan that was music to your ears. Thank god.
“You ok?” you asked, watching him as best you could as your eyes became more accustomed to the darkness.
He moved slowly, sitting up gradually and testing his limbs individually to make sure everything was ok - which it seemed to be - before he touched a hand to the back of his head and winced at the blood that came away on his fingers.
“I’m alive, and that’s a whole lot better than I expected,” he joked, though there was no humour there.
“You guys alright?”
You spun around to face the direction Clint’s voice had come from, about 8 feet to your right, where you could just make out the dark shape of him crouching over what had to be Nat.
“Yeah, we’re good. You? And Nat?”
“I’m fine, but Nat’s not waking up. She hit her head, and I think her arm is broken. She’s breathing though.”
You nodded, exhaling sharply - she was alive.
“So we should probably get out of here,” you suggested in a light tone, sitting up to slowly test your body for any substantial injuries.
“Considering back up’s probably on their way to ensure the air strike did its job, I think that’s a good idea,” Bucky agreed, shoving some debris off his lower half and carefully moving to look at your leg. “Clint, help me get this off Y/N.”
The archer picked his way over to you carefully, ducking through the small gap to squat behind you. “Ready!”
As Bucky eased up the shelves, Clint pulled you back and out from under it, before Bucky replaced the shelves with as much care as he could - there was no telling what was currently stopping the roof from collapsing in on them.
Once your foot was free, the feeling began to return and with it came sharp pain. The metal had cut into your ankle quite a way, and you were sure it was at least sprained.
“Careful, careful,” Bucky quickly soothed when you hissed as you tried to move it. He knelt over to inspect it gently, face serious, and you remembered that due to the serum he was the only one of you who could see properly right now.
“I think it’s fractured,” he diagnosed with a frown. “I’m really sorry, doll, but you’re going to have to try to walk on it, at least while we get out.”
You nodded, taking a few steadying breaths. “I’m ok, really, let’s just get the fuck out of here.”
Bucky, as the one who could actually see, began to clear enough rubble to check out what was happening above your little pocket of relative-safety. He was gone for mere minutes, but it dragged on as you watched Clint maneuver Nat through the gaps in the wreckage to your side, monitoring her vitals consistently.
“Alright, I’ve cleared a path through to the surface, but it’s not going to be easy,” Bucky told you as he reentered the room, and you sighed.
“Yell, well, it was all going too well. Tony’s right, we do always get into messes,” you grumbled, psyching yourself up as you prepared to stand. Bucky was by your side in an instant, hands on your arms to steady you as you clung to him. His brow furrowed when you squeaked in pain as you took a step on your bad ankle, but even if it hurt like hell, you didn’t have a choice.
“I’m good,” you reassured with a weak smile, and you knew from his face he was anything but convinced. Still, he supported you in your slow stagger to the hole in the ceiling on the other side of the room. Once there, he crouched against the wall and cupped his hands for you to step on, lifting you easily up and onto the next level. This level was above ground, and the stone walls hadn’t coped with the blasts anywhere near as well as the underground steel armoury you had been in. The room you found yourself in now was barely standing, collapsed in on one side and full of rubble from the destroyed floors above. You looked around as Bucky clambered up next to you, trying to figure out his plan.
You could go up and over the rubble, but who knew how secure the mountain of smouldering remains was. Besides, it would be difficult enough for Clint and Bucky to get you over there with your ankle, let alone while carrying the still unconscious Nat, who was currently being passed up through the hole by Clint into Bucky’s arms. He laid her next to the hole, and you checked her pulse again as Bucky held out an arm to pull Clint up with enviable ease.
Her pulse was steady, but a little slow, and you tried to force down the worry as you knew that it was pointless right now. Your focus needed to be on getting out of here, and right now that meant focusing on not passing out from pain.
One again, Clint picked up Nat and Bucky threaded an arm around your waist and led your group through his pre-determined path, clambering over support beams and crawling on your bellies through tiny gaps in a slow and agonising slug to the edge of the destruction. Eventually, you stumbled through a hole in a wall and found yourself outside in the freezing morning air, and you laughed.
It was snowing lightly, and there was a fresh wind that felt so fucking good. You gulped in oxygen free from dust and plaster, moving to the side to allow Clint to get Nat out. The good mood was quickly taken from you when you turned to the West and spotted the quinjet.
Or rather, what used to be the quinjet. Now, the trees were flattened and on fire, and the quinjet was in several large, twisted chunks strewn across the snow. Judging by the matching swears on either side of you, the boys had noticed too.
“So,” you sighed. “Now what?”
xxx
Getting caught in a missile strike? Unlucky, for sure. Surviving said missile strike? Incredibly lucky. Having your mode of transport destroyed? A kick in the teeth. Finding two working snowmobiles at the guard post that had miraculously survived the explosions? Someone out there had finally taken pity on you and cut you some slack.
The fact that there was an empty, secluded hotel a mere hour and a half ride away? Well, that was almost too lucky to be believable.
You sat on the snowmobile with Nat laid against your chest, pistol cocked and ready as the boys explored the ski lodge. They were gone for about ten minutes, no doubt sweeping every inch of the building for possible booby traps. The ‘under renovations’ sign slapped over the ski lodge’s name explained the complete lack of people, as who would be in the wasteland of Siberia working renovations on New Years Eve?
The boys came back, happy that the place was in fact empty, and Bucky picked up Nat to carry her inside as you leant on Clint and hobbled. The pain had been getting worse and worse for the past hour or so, the adrenaline having worn off, and you were looking forward to just sitting down on a chair and drinking some water.
You set up camp in the lobby of the hotel, where you’d be able to keep an eye on the front door and long driveway - it wasn’t out of the question that the HYDRA team sent to check the wreckage wouldn’t realise somehow that you’d escaped. Even though the snow would have covered your tracks, if they knew this place existed, they would probably come at least have a look around. As Bucky placed Nat on one of the sofas and you fell heavily into a cushy armchair, Clint began poking at the fireplace until cheery flames broke out.
You’d sort of forgotten about the cold, unable to feel it, and you glanced guiltily at Nat, who was already in Bucky’s jacket, and picked up the blanket by your side to tuck it tightly around her. Bucky reappeared a few minutes later with a collection of things he’d gathered around the house - some canned food, protein bars, bottled water, a hunting rifle, a first aid kit, and an iPad.
You furrowed your eyebrows at the iPad as he dumped the supplies on the spare couch, and he shrugged. “It was in the safe in the back office. I’ll put it back before we leave.”
You snorted, shaking your head as you reached to claim a water and a box of cereal that was a little out of date, but unopened so probably fine. You drank an entire bottle of water, Clint and Bucky copying your motion and making the same satisfied face you were sure you made when they’d finished.
You opened the box of cereal and tucked it by your side in the chair, eating dry handfuls with zero decorum as you balanced the iPad on your lap and turned it on.
“Here,” Bucky called, and a box of painkillers landed on the screen before you could even glance up. You thanked him and got another bottle of water to take a few pills, willing them to kick in as fast as possible and turning back to the iPad.
“Bet you 20 bucks the first thing Stark does when I say we’re stranded is roll his eyes and say this is what happens when the irresponsible ones go on a mission together.”
Clint chuckled from the sofa where he was tending to a cut on his arm. “You’re on. I think he’ll hang up, then call back a minute later and launch into a lecture of dad-like disappointment.”
You laughed, tapping away at the tablet - no password, what an idiot - and opened up FaceTime. As you typed in the number that would call FRIDAY - who had set up a number connected to Apple rather than just the Stark system, despite Tony’s grumbling - Bucky sat on the coffee table and carefully pulled your foot into his lap as he tugged off your destroyed boot with severe concentration.
You smiled softly at his care and hit the call button, turning your attention back to shovelling in cereal as the device rang.
“Why are you calling me from an Apple device, did you really lose your phone again?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the fear of the mission ebbing away now you were securing your ticket out of there. Tony and his sarcasm was a blessing at this point.
“Yeah, well, it’s hard to keep track of all your possessions when a building falls on you, y’know?”
You watched as the scientist stopped whatever he was doing in his lab, finally looking up to the camera. He looked first at you - you knew there was a monstrous looking gash on your forehead and a pound of plaster in your hair - and then at the background - a wooden lodge, and not a quinjet.
“Hold on a second,” he said eventually, and disappeared from frame.
You leant back in your seat, inhaling through your nose as Bucky cleaned the cut. It stung like crazy and he shot you an apologetic look, but you waved him off and ate more cereal to stop from whimpering. The screen then flickered, and the camera view changed from an empty lab to the kitchen, where the remainder of the team were gathered looking worriedly at the screen.
Steve was in the foreground by Tony’s side, and you instantly smiled at seeing his face. The emotions suddenly hit you full force, the realisation that mere hours ago you’d been convinced you were about to die creating a lump in your throat that you tried not to let show on your face.
“Y/N, what the hell happened? Where are you guys?”
It was then that you realised the team were all dressed in formal clothes, and you looked at the time on the iPad to realise it was just after 7pm New York time, a lot later than you realised. Although, you hadn’t been expected back till probably 10pm, so it made sense that they hadn’t realised there was a problem yet.
“Yeah, so long story short,” you began, turning back to the conversation. “One of the computers was booby trapped, and when we tried to copy the hard drive it triggered a missile strike. So we sort of get buried underneath the building and only woke up a few hours ago and managed to get out only to find the quinjet hadn’t survived, so we stole some snowmobiles and came to this random empty ski lodge. We’re fine, though Nat’s been out this whole time, she must have hit her head. Her vitals we can measure are still ok, but there’s not a lot we can do for her with zero supplies. So yeah, we’re stranded.”
You flipped the camera around to show Bucky and Clint, scratched and tired but alive, and the still-passed out Nat, before turning the camera back on yourself.
“A missile strike?” Steve broke the silence with disbelief.
“Yeah, who saw that coming right? Honestly, I’m amazed we survived, like we should definitely all be dead right now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tony suddenly exploded, rolling his eyes and smacking a hand to his forehead. “This is the last time I let you children go anywhere without adult supervision, I swear to God, you’re all hopeless and attract chaos like some sort of irresponsible magnets-”
“Ha!” you interrupted joyfully, sitting up and pointing at Clint. “Eyeroll and irresponsible, you owe me 20 bucks, bitch!”
“Y/N!”
You jumped at Steve’s shout, laughing sheepishly. “Sorry, got carried away.” You realised his eyes were fixed on your forehead, and you dropped the joking. “Seriously, I’m ok, Buck and Clint are ok, we just need to get Nat back asap.”
“Maria’s got a team coming back from Moscow, they can leave early and bring you back with them. They’ll be with you in a couple of hours.”
“Perfect. We can hold out here for that long.”
“Ok, I’ve sent them your location and number, they’ll be in contact. We’re also putting a doctor on the jet to look over Nat,” he said, tapping away at his phone.
“Thanks Tony,” you smiled, then gasped when a realisation struck you. “No, we’re not going to be back for New Years,” you whined with a pout.
The team back at the Compound laughed, and Clint and Bucky both snorted, so you shot them a glare.
“What? I was looking forward to the party, ok? Sue me!”
“We’ll throw you one when you’re back,” Tony replied drily, and you stuck your tongue out at him.
“You guys enjoy having a good night for us, ok? Wanda, Sam, I’m trusting you to get drunk on my behalf.”
They saluted you in sync with matching grins and you laughed, but you couldn’t help but feel sad you weren’t going to be there.
“We’re not going to party while you guys are out there, stranded and injured,” Steve declared, eyes hard.
You sighed and smiled slightly at his unwavering loving nature. “Babe, yes you are. We’re all fine, we’ll be home in the morning, and I’ll enjoy making fun of everyone for their headaches. Just have a good night, ok? Please?”
He seemed to consider your words for a minute before accepting you wouldn’t budge on this and nodding in agreement.
“Ok, just check in throughout the night, please? And make sure you’re alert in case they come looking for you. Keep a watch out, maybe make a perimeter and-”
“-What are you talking about, Steve? We were all going to go nap in the snow with our asses in the air in welcome.”
You snorted at Bucky’s deadpan tone, and he shook his head in exasperation when you met his eyes.
“Alright, alright, enough,” you cut Steve off before he could even open his mouth, biting back the grin when he spared you an offended look. “We’re fine, and you guys all need to go and enjoy yourself. I promise we’ll keep you updated. Oh, and Wanda, take pictures! Love you all!”
You blew kisses at the screen and hung up before Steve could protest again, dropping the tablet onto the chair and sighing. Bucky had finished wrapping your ankle and was now stood by the window, watching through the curtains with a tight grip on his gun.
“We’re just going to set the clocks back at the compound and celebrate new years tomorrow night and just refuse to listen if anyone says it’s not New Years, right?”
You looked to Clint with wonder in your eyes.
“Tony’s wrong, you have the best ideas.”
xxx
The crackling of the fire and the low light of the room mixed with painkillers was making you very sleepy, and it was getting hard to stay awake in the very comfy chair. The boys were out checking the perimeter, so when there was a low groan from your left you shot up in your chair in a second.
“Nat?”
The redhead groaned again, a hand lifting to press against her forehead and you felt a flash of relief. Pushing to your feet, you hopped over to the couch she was on and knelt on the floor by her side.
“Take it easy, ok? We’re safe, and everyone’s fine, so just go slow.”
She took a few beats before lowering her hand again and cracking open an eye. You smiled as wide as you could. “Hey, spyashchaya krasavitsa.”
She smiled weakly, moving to sit up but quickly lowering herself back down. “Ugh, I feel like a building fell on me.”
You snorted at her trademark dry humour.
“Where are the boys?”
“Outside, checking the perimeter in case we were followed.”
“Ok, and where are we?”
You explained what had happened, including the expected rescue, and by the end of it she seemed a little better. She was still too dizzy to sit up, but she’d managed to have a few sips of water and her cheeks were a little less pale. Clint had patched up the cut on her head, but there’d been no way to tell how much blood she’d lost, so it was hard to know what was wrong without further tests.
“What time is it?”
“Siberia time? 8:22am. New York time? 8:22 last night.”
“So not making it back for New Years then.”
“Nope, we’ll be spending that on the jet,” you shrugged, eyes on the fire as you leaned back into the sofa cushions. “Still, not the worst New Years we’ve ever had, right?”
Nat laughed. “Not by a long shot. Remember ‘08? In Uruguay?”
“Oh God, no, I’ve permanently blocked that from my mind. Still can’t smell jager without instantly wanting to collapse on the floor and die.”
“Good times,” she smirked as you scrunched up your nose in disgust. “What about the best one?”
You hummed as you thought for a second. “Oh, I know. 2013.”
She smiled softly, both of you lost in the memory. “New Orleans.”
“Yeah, we’d just finished that slog of a mission, we were caked in dirt and blood and we got back to the hotel we were staying at and it was pouring with rain.”
“We went and sat on the balcony of our room, didn’t even change our shoes, just grabbed a bottle of good vodka and watched the street party and listened to the jazz band.”
“Yeah, we sat out till sunrise, just drinking and talking.”
Her hand reached out in the gap between you, and you took it and squeezed as you shared a smile. The two of you really were sisters, and to this day it was one of the best nights of your life.
“Nat!”
You looked up with a smile as the boys entered, pulling your hand back so that Clint could fuss over her.
“Everything’s ok?” you asked Bucky as he remained on his feet, fidgeting like crazy.
“Yeah, there’s no one around, just the longer we stay here the more likely it is they do show up.”
“Ok, well you pacing back and forth isn’t going to help the rescue team get here any quicker, so, sit,” you ordered, words punctuated by you patting the seat next to you.
He sighed, but followed the order, even if he refused to relax fully. As Clint moved to add logs to the fire, you decided you needed to pass the time.
“What’s been your best New Years Eve?”
Bucky scoffed, and you realised maybe it wasn’t the best thing to ask someone who had spent decades either as a brainwashed assassin or in a cryo chamber. You were about to apologise when he leant forward in his chair with a reminiscent smile.
“1934, Steve and I spent it at Coney Island. It was the first time Steve had felt well enough to go out for the whole night, and we spent hours going on every single ride and playing at every stall - ate so much that by the time the clock hit midnight we were lying flat out on the beach, unable to move, and watching the fireworks on the pier.”
You smiled at his story, picturing young Bucky and Steve, smiling and laughing and innocent. Unaware of what their future held. There was a pull on your heart strings, and you reached out a hand to rub Bucky’s forearm, sharing a sad smile with him.
“2010, the first New Years after me and Laura got married,” Clint spoke up in the same wistful tone, grinning as he poked at the logs. “It was stormy as hell, we were in the process of moving into the house so there was no furniture and boxes everywhere. The power went out and we had takeaway and cheap prosecco sat on the living room floor. Picked all our baby names that night. Couldn’t have asked for anything more.”
“Aww, Clint, you’re such a sap!”
He reached out and swatted at your good foot as you laughed, but the iPad chiming quickly distracted you all.
“They’re ten minutes out,” you summarised for the group, taking Bucky’s hand as he helped you stand on shaky legs. “Let’s go home, I’m ready to get drunk.”
xxx
The jet was dark and quiet, everyone but you and the pilot fast asleep. You knew the team a little, having trained with them in the gym and done a few missions with them before, so you’d had a nice little talk with the team before everyone split off to sleep.
Despite how tired you were, sleep wasn’t happening for you, so eventually you got out of the sleeping bag and dropped into the co pilot seat with a huff. Kara, a blonde bomb specialist with a cute dog you’d pet sat a few times in the past, offered you a sympathetic smile. The jet was on auto pilot so she was on her phone as she kept an eye on the console, but she quickly put it down and turned to you.
“What’s up?”
You got on well with Kara, had gone for drinks with her a few times and often sparred together, and it was one of those weird work relationships where you’d never learnt her birthday or if she had any siblings, but you knew her deepest fears and dream wedding, so you didn’t hesitate in telling her the truth - everyone else was asleep, after all.
“I know that it doesn’t matter, not in the big scheme of things, but I’m really gutted not to be with Steve,” you shrugged, checking the clock impulsively as you’d been doing for hours. It was on New York time, and was currently at 11:53.
“Well, if I could teleport you there, I would. Sadly, I’m not a magician, so instead you’ll have to settle with what I can offer you.”
You raised your head from the chair, fixing her with a curious look. She just smiled knowingly, and clicked a few buttons on the dash. “Make sure we don’t crash, yeah? I’m gonna get some sleep.” She stood and stretched, patting you on the shoulder as she passed before turning back. “Oh, and don’t worry, I’m putting in ear plugs.”
You watched her walk away to the far side of the jet where she claimed your discarded sleeping bag. Perplexed, but shrugging it off, you moved to take the co pilot seat and realised her phone was laying on the seat, headphones plugged in.
You picked it up, ready to return it, when suddenly a video call lit up the screen. It was from a number you’d know anywhere, and your heart leapt to your throat as you put in the earphones, sat down, and answered the call.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Tears pricked at your eyes as Steve’s handsome, smiling face filled the screen, and you bit back a giggle.
“Hey baby.”
“Didn’t think I was going to see in the New Year without you, did you?” He smirked, spinning so the entire team was in the background, drunk and waving and yelling.
You laughed and waved back, grinning widely as Steve turned the phone back to his face.
“We’ve seen in every New Years together since we joined the team, I couldn’t let one unplanned missile attack ruin that streak,” he joked with a smile, and you shook your head affectionately.
“You’re unbelievable, Rogers.”
“I know. Now shh, it’s countdown time.”
You watched as he walked to the edge of the roof, the rest of the party clustered a little way away. The yells of the crowd counted down from 10, and Steve counted with them, turning so that you could see both him and the New York skyline.
“3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!” Steve and the crowd yelled in unison as fireworks broke out across the sky, the colours and sounds so consuming you almost felt like you were there.
“Happy New Year, sweetheart, I love you,” he called out above the cheers surrounding him, laughing as Sam ran past to press a kiss first on Steve’s cheek, and then on the camera, before he disappeared out of frame.
In the dark, silent jet, alone and with a messed up ankle, you grinned wider than you had in months.
“I love you too, hun. Happy New Year.”