Chapter Text
This is perhaps the most people who have ever looked at her at one time. Her skin is crawling, trying to skitter away whilst the rest of her is stuck. At least she’s not the only one. John’s examining his shoulder a few steps farther back than he’d been minutes ago. As much as she would love to, she doesn’t think giving everyone the Irish Goodbye is the right choice at the moment. And she could only imagine what people might think if he were to abscond from the scene of their glory. Ugh. It feels disgusting to even consider. About all of it. How they'll write about what happened, dehumanizing and demonizing that part of Bob. Or how quickly these people would turn against any one of them if it made for a more interesting story. This is a quite a high pedestal they're building.
“You good?”
He startles but covers it up with an awkward smile. “Hmm? Me? Yeah. It hurts, but there isn’t even a hole in my uniform.” He scratches at the unscathed hem with blunt fingernails.
She nods and lets him get away with pretending that’s what she was actually asking. “Weird.” An all encompassing statement, she thinks.
He shrugs. “I’m not complaining,” says the man who loves doing just that.
Speaking of – or the lack thereof - she notices that these people aren’t paying either of them any mind. They got some group pictures, which Ava hadn't even thought to pose for. Gave their names- well, more that Val announced their names like she was some talk show host, waiting for an obligatory applause after each one. Now the others are talking to individual journalists. The moment isn't over, but it's waning. Maybe if they blend into the background, they won’t attract any attention. Then it occurs to her. “What were you saying?”
“Huh?” he hums eloquently.
“Back in there.” Is she sure she wants to know? Probably not. Not if he was about to reprimand her for getting emotional with Alexei or anything. Despite everything, she’s maintained a relatively level head throughout these past few days. She faltered a bit here and there, but who was he to judge? Whatever. She sighs. “You were trying to tell me something.”
He blinks at her dumbly. Then again. “Oh! I noticed you weren’t doing your ghost-y thing-”
“You can call it phasing.”
“Sure. Ghosting.” She nudges him lightly and he chuckles. Fucking Americans and their ‘chuckling’. “You weren’t phasing. Figured it was for a reason. And Bucky said you found him, then you saw Alexei before he even opened the door. You found the window.”
“I was wrong about the window.”
He scrunches his face in disbelief. “No, you were right.” Now she blinks slowly back. “When you stopped, I looked. It was them.” Ava would rebut, but she isn’t sure how to dispute this. He imagined it? They were in a place made of memories, everything was imagination in there. “I was just the first to jump in.” She stares blankly. At the fact that he had a point, but also that he'd noticed anything at all. He'd been so in his own head- "Don't look so surprised."
"I wasn't! I-" He arches an eyebrow. "Shut up about it." Yelena was right, John does know what he’s doing. Sometimes. Everything had happened so fast in there, and Ava had been so focused on the what, she didn’t really consider the why.
He chuckles. "Told you. Gotta keep my eyes on everyone and make the right call." There’s that ego. But it’s curbed. Pride because it’s expected of him. At least, for the moment. It’s possible he’s feeling as rubbed raw as the rest of them. Underestimated and overexposed. Like there was a qualifier he left off.
"Go Bears." That gets a genuine, albeit shy, laugh out of him. "Think we should test it?" If he insists on acting endearing in the aftermath, there will be no working with him. She thinks of their night in the desert. A night that will not be mentioned again, if she gets any say in this. It was a false start. She doesn’t currently have the capacity to learn to like people, especially not him.
John looks at Bob, who has been pulled to the side by Val's assistant, who looks incredibly worried for some reason, but Bob just looks confused. They're interrupted by Bucky, who puts a gentle hand on Bob’s shoulder. If she’s got questions, so do they. But honestly, it’s a discussion best had after they have a chance to breathe. It’s perhaps best Bob isn’t under any scrutiny right now. As a safety precaution.
John looks at her. Then Bob again. Then the crowd. Softly, but seriously, he says, "No. I honest to God hope we never get the chance." Ava shudders at the thought. She’d gone in with a warning, but John wasn’t kidding. There was no way to describe what actually being in there was like. Sure, she could describe what she saw, but it wasn’t just reliving a memory. Seeing her shame from a different perspective was more than salt on the wound, it was cutting a newer, deeper pain, right over the old one. Within it.
"No offense. I mean, I'm sure you were super excited to be able to do more than just your ghost thing." She glares at him. "I'm sorry. Phase."
She pokes at him twice more in the side and he just keeps bloody chuckling and giving a fake “ow”. "Prick."
"Been called worse." He looks less dark and haunted now. Good. Only one brooding super soldier is allowed at a time, and she’s pretty sure it’s a part of Bucky’s brand. There could only be one Posh Spice. John’s supposed to be self-centered, and Alexei is the comedic relief. She's seen enough TV to know there's a formula they need to keep to if they want to last more than one season. Characters with any depth tend to get killed off.
"Walker! John Walker!" A grating voice calls out from the crowd, and everyone's eyes turn to him. Some reporter. Val had been trying to keep the focus on her. Good Lord the woman’s smile looked strained. She’s pissed. And given their luck, it’s probably at them. It’s her own fault they're even here!
John clears his throat and nearly stands at attention. "Yes?" His on-camera training looks to be a bit rusty. His smile is barely there.
"Do you plan on trying to take back the shield?"
Silence ripples out. Val tries to say something, but Yelena stops her.
John's face-... The only accurate way to describe it would be to say it glitches out. Really, there's nothing behind his expression. No relief, no grief, not even exhaustion. If Ava didn't know any better, she'd swear this was the Walker from inside the void. But then something inside him must click. Life returns to his features. "Captain America has the shield. Last I checked, he was using it better than-..." The name alone garners more cameras directed at him. "He's saving people. The shield fits him."
Another reporter calls out. "Then what's that?"
He tucks his helmet under his arm as he slides off the 'taco'. "Well, I'm not throwing it. Obviously. Guess I just got used to, ya know-" He makes a pushing motion with his forearm. "Figured it would be easier with an arm guard." What was he going to say, that it was his emotional support blanket before 'Sentry' folded it like it was made of cardboard? There's safety in lies, sometimes. He puts it back on and is met with confused stares. "Clearing debris never looked so stylish," he tacks on with a half-assed attempt at humour.
She's maybe a beat late, but Ava lets herself laugh audibly, adding a tinge of surprise like she doesn't mean to do it. It wasn't that funny, but she covers her mouth like she's trying to stop giggling and it has the desired effect - the crowd laughs along like they're in on the joke. She knows how a live studio audience works. "Not with that helmet, you won't," she says loud enough for the reporters to hear, causing another, bigger wave of snickering. Yelena barks a sharp laugh, which only adds to the crowd’s energy.
John's eyes snap to hers, looking flustered, relieved, and conspiratorial all at once. "You guys said it was cool," he stage-whispers. Unexpectedly, her laughter becomes more genuine. The look of hurt he's affecting. Puppy dog eyes.
"I agree! Is very cool, Agent Walker!" Alexei had been charming a few journalists on the other side of their impromptu line up. Now, he ambles over with a swagger that's equal parts endearing and embarrassing and pulls his own helmet on. While rather similar to John's, Alexei's works for him, somehow. "Fashionable and efficient." Now, even Bob seems amused.
John looks between Ava, Alexei, and the crowd, his lips twitching up cautiously. "Well, one of us has to change." He tosses his helmet to Val, who is then forced to awkwardly catch it. "I think I have a snap-back that might work." He runs a hand through his hair. It's unfair that it actually tames it's frizz into a swooping coif.
Val gives a robotic smile for all of two seconds. "We'll find something." She holds the helmet at arm's length, pinching the strap between her thumb and forefinger. Mel mercifully comes to retrieve it, and Val flaps her hand in disgust.
"Maybe a beret," Bucky says from the sidelines with his arms crossed and managing to scowl in a way that looks thoroughly entertained.
Yelena laughs much more openly, wiping crocodile tears from the corners of her eyes. "He would look good in a top hat. Very Uncle Sam, yes?"
"Very patriotic," Ava agrees.
"You're British?" a voice asks from somewhere in the crowd. It's more complicated than that, but just because she's a public figure now doesn't mean she's going to spill out her whole life story. More faceless voices call out when she doesn't respond immediately. "Only two Americans?" Ava remembers very suddenly that she is in full view of the public and tries not to panic. "What do you do?"
"It's called molecular disequilibrium." Muscle memory moves her lips before she even thinks to.
"And in English?"
She successfully prevents her eyes from rolling to the back of her head. Did no one take high school physics? "I phase through things." She flips her helmet on. Their various oohs and awws grow in volume when she phases her hand through John's arm and chest. He's barely startled by it, which makes her feel some type of way she's immediately going to ignore. She flips her helmet back off. One reporter is staring at the side of her hood and furiously taking notes.
"Can you do it without the helmet on?"
"Yeah." They look at her expectantly, probably hoping she'll expand on that. She doesn't.
"Who made it?"
Her jaw tightens. "Doctor Bill Foster."
"Goliath?" She nods. "I wasn't aware he had a daughter."
Now she's getting annoyed. Well, more annoyed. "Not my dad."
"Why wear the suit if you don't need it?"
"Efficiency."
"And fashionable?" They look like they think they’ve told some clever joke.
"If you say so." They are now vaguely disappointed that she didn’t respond to said joke. Does she look like Tony Stark? She’s not just full of quips and one-liners. Random background actors don't get to say the second beat.
The questions just keep coming. Don’t these people ever get tired? "Labour or tory?" "Do you have dual citizenship?" "Miss de Fountaine, is this the government's attempt at D.E.I.?"
John coughs. "Jesus Christ. Really? What are you, Roxx News?"
"Actually, yes." The reporter asking looks smug. They're trying to be taken seriously but missing quite remarkably. Roxx News sounded familiar, but only vaguely. That's probably because she hardly ever watches anything that isn't on VHS or DVD or the silver screen. Streaming and subscriptions left a digital footprint. She looks to John for an explanation.
"Buncha angry grifters that gossip on TV and call it news. They'll love us today, then tomorrow they'll come up with some stupid nickname. Like B-vengers or something. Real hard-hitting journalism, if you ask me."
"Didn't you come on Primetime for an interview?"
John grins with his teeth bared like fangs. "Call that D.E.I."
The reporter looks ready to goad John into a fight when Val chimes in. "While a perfectly acceptable and reasonable practice - D.E.I. was not a factor in assembling our team." She’s got her politician's smile back on.
Bucky steps forward to cut her off. "And to clarify, we're working with the government. Not for. We want to do good, but we don't want to be vigilantes, so we called Miss De Fontaine."
"You're a senator." Ava’s head is swiveling back and forth with such speed she thinks she might get whiplash.
"I'm a civil servant. I work for my constituents, who also happen to be human - at least as far as I'm aware. And, if you folks remember, Thor was from Asgard. He was one of several literal aliens the Avengers worked with." Politician Bucky feels much more… awkward. Somehow he makes more sense the less words he says.
"So you're saying the new Avengers are going to be solely focused on Earth?" Yikes.
Justifiably gobsmacked at the jump in logic, he begins to flounder. "That's not what I- No. If people need help-"
"The Avengers are, first and foremost, Earth's Mightiest Heroes." Val glares at Bucky, and it's incredibly ineffective, but he does step back. "But we may or may not have a U.S. tour plan in the works." She gives them a theatrical wink. Before Yelena or Bucky can question her, she continues. "All right folks. Saving the world from imminent destruction is hard work. Been a long day. I don't know about you but I wanna go home. Pop on my shows. And if I'm feeling really wild, I might pour myself a nice glass of pinot."
Bob walks over to everyone who is openly exhausted. "That was great guys! You did great."
"That was a shit show. You're all getting media training before the end of the week." Her tone is quiet enough to avoid being overheard by the now dispersing crowd, but no less cutting.
"It's Thursday,” Yelena says with a huff.
"I'm sorry, do you think they're gonna like stand-off British Betsy over here who can't be bothered to give more than two-word answers-"
Ava sneers. "Fuck off.”
"-or were you gonna wait until Johnny Walker has a PTSD episode and takes out half of WTZM?"
Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck’s sake, Val.” Does he ever accidentally pinch his skin between the metal when he does that? She’ll ask later. But God does it feels good to scowl with the full extent of her disgust again. Attempting to maintain their employer-employee relationship has been an incredible practice in restraint. Ava successfully refrains from pulling Val’s heart from her chest. Look. Progress.
John’s either running on empty and too tired to respond, or he’s gone mute. Either way, Ava and Yelena both take a small step forward. It shall henceforth be known that only the team is allowed to give John shit and Jesus Christ did Ava just think of them as a fucking team?
"Bucky, you got one half-decent answer off before crumbling like a burnt croissant." They have her surrounded. Even Mel isn't jumping to her assistance. Alexei cracks his fingers one by one. Val gives a shaky laugh. "You wouldn't. You can't be that fucking dumb."
"Dunno. I think I'm flashbacks." Oh, that’s dark. But Ava can appreciate a fucked-up sense of humour. John smiles and waves at some teenagers with their phone pointed at them. "Smile! Can't let 'em remember you're being impeached."
"If I get impeached, you don't get to be the Avengers. You'll get torn apart if you're even lucky enough to be remembered tomorrow." Val is finally on the back foot, and she knows it.
She also knows Ava has been practicing phasing things other than herself. She hasn’t tested it on anything living. Yet. "I've been in hiding for over ten years. What's a few more?"
Yelena gives Ava a sly smirk. "If you're already on the list..." She tilts her hand from side to side, weighing the options.
Like a cornered animal, Val goes off like rapid-fire, pointing to them each individually with a perfectly manicured finger. "I'm the only chance you have to see your son again." John visibly deflates. "I'm the only one that can protect Bill from the people you pissed off." Ava feels a cavity in her chest widen. "You two, I wouldn’t even have to break a sweat over. You’re Russian agents who can be sent right back." Ava doesn’t think either of them would mind personally, but she doesn’t doubt they’d each be worried about the other. She turns back to Bucky. "And you. You still like pretending you have morals." She looks Bob up and down. Bob looks like he's bracing for his lumps, but she smartly keeps her mouth shut.
"I can be their agent. A liaison." Mel steps up, chin held higher than Ava remembers. She hands the tablet to Bob, who squints at it briefly but accepts to hold it so that she can proposition her grand idea. "It can be strictly PR. You guys make your own moves, choose your own missions, but any public statements have to be run by us, and we moderate all interactions with the press." She pivots to Val. Ava thinks she’s starting to like her. It's easier when she's not hiding behind that damn tablet. "And you get to keep an employee that literally saved your neck from- what did you call it? 'Imminent destruction'?" Mel doesn't need to say out loud that Val was the one to set this whole thing off- the standoff, the vault, their arrest. But they all know. Except for Bob, maybe. But they can fill him in later. Maybe after some counseling.
"I'm okay with this," Yelena says, stepping forward. A vote has begun.
Bucky looks every bit the one hundred and however many years old he is right now. "Sounds good." Maybe he doesn’t mind being passed around teams. Or maybe it’s like when they were at the garage and he’s just afraid of them all fucking it up.
Alexei bats one hand, then the other against his chest. "If Lena says okay, then is okay." He looks at each of them. The man’s wanted a team longer than any of them have known him, so this is no surprise. With the enthusiasm simmering just under the surface, it’s easier to comprehend that he’s younger than Bucky. But how much is real and how much is desperation?
"I'm sure this won't end horribly,” John says far less eagerly.
Looking at each of them, it’s difficult to determine whether this is sad acceptance or hope for something better in life. Could be both. Could be a fear of what might happen if they don’t. Her decision is based purely on those being the current motivations telling her to do this. An even larger part of her is sounding off deafening claxons, warning her that this will likely end up killing her. "This is stupid." She thinks of Bill, again. Of how, even now, he wants her to find something to hold onto. She figured up until now, the anchor had been a dedication to pay back the debt she owes him. He would say that she doesn’t owe him anything, but that wasn’t true. He might not feel that way, but you’re supposed to support the people you care about, right? Even if it means running into sure death. The least you can do is let them know they won’t die alone or forgotten. She clears her throat, dismissing a trip down memory lane. “Might be the worst decision I’ll ever make.” Ava nods anyway. She narrows her eyes at Val, because looking at the fire is easier. "But if I see anyone trying to put those stupid sound cannons in the tower or jets or literally anywhere, I reserve the right to shoot them." The heavy weight she’s been carrying in her chest for as long as she can remember shifts. It might not lighten, but it’s certainly something.
"The speakers?" Mel asks cautiously.
Ava doesn't clarify.
Everyone glances at each other. Then to Mel. Well, around Mel, to Bob. He makes an abortive move to scratch the back of his head. "What?"
"You're one of us." Yelena claps a friendly hand on his arm, but it almost instantly becomes something gentler. Whatever that means. No one knows what those two were doing or talking about before they got to that cramp room in an imaginary attic. It feels too personal to ask about, so Ava won’t. What’s their business is theirs- team or not. If they want to share, it’ll be up to them. At least, where Ava’s concerned. She doesn’t doubt Alexei will let his worry and curiosity get ahead of him.
Bob's laugh is that same one from the vault- the one that means he doesn’t believe a word they’re saying. "N-No I'm not- You guys are-..." They all just watch him expectantly. John doesn’t refute it. Bucky’s just met the man and has already accepted this as the status quo. Bob stares. "You guys are insane."
Yelena shrugs. "Yeah." Her hand drifts down his arm, her fingers briefly brushing against his hand before letting go. Skin to skin contact. Reassurance. They’ve already passed the decent into madness. They can recover
It’s enough to make him drop his nervous snickering. Bob meets Yelena’s gaze. It’s the most eye contact he’s maintained with any of them. Perhaps he’s found an anchor. Maybe one day they’ll all become a safety net. At least for Bob. They’re all screwed if he goes off the deep end one day and there’s no way to pull him back. But this shouldn’t just happen as a preventative measure. Ava saw his memories. She doesn’t know about the rest of them – whether they grew up alone or were one day thrust into it as consequence to their actions. She understands that pain. That loneliness.
In her experience, human connection is like a hotel- a luxury that can shelter you and keep you warm, so long as you can afford it. But it can just as well kick you out if you make one wrong move too many. She sneaks a glance at John and Bucky out of the corner of her eye. She wonders if it’s worse to have built a life in that warmth or to have never had it at all. She supposes it doesn’t really matter at this point. They’ve all ended up in the same place.
Yelena nods. Bob nods back. His smile is a bit crooked, but it’s real. "Sure. Yeah. Yeah! I'm in. Do I get a cool suit or..?" Yelena waves off the question in a bid to table it, and Bob gives her a soft “okay,” but he doesn’t look disappointed.
Val, on the other hand... Her pinched lips curl up at the sides and make her cheekbones look weird. She's fucking furious. This pleases Ava. Schadenfreude is another emotion she’s quite familiar with.
Val readjusts her suit jacket, because politicians can’t just huff or sigh like a normal person and have to pretend to be dignified. "Fine."
Mel looks like the canary outmaneuvered the cat. "And I get paid double," she demands with her full chest. Good on her.
"You're pushin' it." Yelena walks up to stand next to Mel, leaning a casual elbow on her shoulder. Bob walks up on her other side, though it doesn’t look like he knows why he’s done this. Val is satisfyingly subdued. "Fine. Fuck it. Whatever. I'll have some contracts drawn up-"
"And I'll have my lawyers look over them,” Bucky says as he’s already typing away at something on his phone. Honestly, Ava would have expected him to still be using a damn landline.
"Gross." Val’s politician smile seems all the more forced.
Ava's not sure this is gonna go well. She has to text Bill and Scott and let them know, if they haven't already seen the news. She might as well stick it out until the end. Worst that can happen is she dies, right? At least it will have been for trying to help people this time around.