Chapter Text
Wednesday night at the compound was movie night, and the resident team was in the theatre lounge. Everyone except me and Nat, who was working late in the computer lab on a project for the eye patch.
I didn’t feel sociable but at the same time I didn’t want to be alone. This new juxtaposition was symptom of my most recent efforts to open up, fit in, be normal. If normal was ever going to be something I achieved for myself.
I was technically alone but to be in a communal space, just existing where people could be found, made me feel more at ease tonight. It wasn’t always like this; my needs varied.
It was ten to midnight and the communal lounge at Avenger’s central, as I called it, was quiet. The blackness behind the full-length windows was like an inky velvet that soothed my nerves and made me feel more comfortable. I couldn’t handle the wide open spaces that were revealed by the daylight, but the enclosed and windowless suite I slept in was too much. Hence why I declined to join the others in the small theatre lounge.
The movie of the night was a horror; The Conjuring 2. I’d seen enough horror in my life, and while that was real and the movie was not, I would have preferred something a little lighter, maybe a rom com or something slapstick. Who knew I’d be drawn to an angsty story about a guy who found the girl of his dreams in the most unlikely place, or a woman who finally found a man who treated her right after enduring some kind of emotional trauma?
If someone had have told 40’s Bucky that in the future he’d be less interested in stories about military victories and fights about good versus evil than in lost animals looking for home or a mushy love story, I was pretty sure he’d laugh and say ‘get the hell outta here’.
I smiled ruefully at the memory of a man who I no longer was but who had helped shape my life now because somehow, after all that HYRDA did to me, I was able to resolve the two and draw parts of my past self into my present. The James Buchannan Barnes I was now was a patchwork of all the men I had been, from the Bucky that Steve knew and cared for, to the various version of The Winter Soldier and the lost soul I’d been when Zimo had framed me for the UN bombing in Vienna.
I lifted the book that was resting in my loosened grip, my wrist had relaxed when my mind had wandered. Northern Lights. It was a book that Veronica had given Steve last Christmas, that he lent to me today.
We weren’t exactly on speaking terms, Veronica and I, certainly not enough to book swap; short exchanged greetings were as far as we went. I still kept my distance somewhat, but she had been trying to help me more with the arm since I had apologised to her for my harsh treatment of her and the time I’d… We’d fought, during a combat assessment.
I sighed. The memory of her bruises still fresh in my mind, weeks later.
The book.
Yes, the book. It was a teen novel, but the depth of the characters and the bonds they formed was poignant. The main character, Lyra, had fought back against the status quo, struggling to keep the parts of herself whole. Her journey was epic, and not unlike my own, even if hers was a destiny and mine was just something terrible that had happened. Losing sight of who you were, losing friends and family, and giving up everything you knew. Becoming unsure of your place in the world now that everything had changed around you, but all the time fighting something you didn’t understand and knowing beyond any shadow of a doubt that you just had to keep fighting. Lyra Silvertongue; Bucky Silver-arm.
I almost laughed at myself.
I didn’t get much further into the book when movement caught my attention. Quick quiet steps followed by a loud boom had me rolling reflexively on the ground, flipping the large dining table to use as a shield.
Painfully alert, adrenaline peaked, I listened for the threat.
After the boom there were footsteps and someone jumped behind cover beside me. It was Natasha.
“Hey.” She said coolly.
Confused though I was, I couldn’t mistake the smirk on her lips.
“What’s happening?” I whispered, still trying to listen as more footfalls became louder, coming our way from the theatre area.
“Oh, nothing.” She said, coy and sarcastic. “Just a pre-emptive strike on a personal challenge.”
The voices I heard were that of the team; Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vision, Clint, Rhodey and Tony. It was all a jumble which grew calmer as they emerged from the theatre and filtered into the communal lounge.
I glanced over the table to see no enemies, only my friends looking a mixture of irate and amused. Friends. Were they? Was I friend to them? I supposed it didn’t matter if it was a little one-sided or not. How I felt about them was a kinship like the one I had in the Howling Commandos, camaraderie, loyalty, brotherhood.
“What the hell?” Rhodey stopped when he saw the mess of table and chairs.
I stood looking sheepish, I’m sure.
“This was you?” Steve looked both surprised and disappointed.
“Yeah, I guess I heard the bang and panicked.” I shrugged, starting to pick up the chairs.
“With the spray cans?” Steve thumbed behind him to the carnage of the broken down theatre door and the frustrated Tony Stark who was approaching.
What the hell was this?
“I mean it wasn’t bad, as far as pranks go. But maybe next time paint the tins a….” Tony came to a halt beside Steve. “What’s happened to my table?”
“That was my bad.” I rubbed the back of my neck as Tony’s face got stern.
In his hand were three cans of febreeze which had the triggers tied down with cable ties, one of them was still hissing lightly.
A chuckle from behind me clued me in to what had happened; Nat and tear gas prank sprang to mind.
“Hello, boys!” Nat stood wearing a smoulderingly smug smile.
“You!?” Tony exasperated. “I have to say I’m disappointed.” He shook his head theatrically. “You couldn’t even wait until morning?”
“What can I say, I’m proactive.” Nat shrugged; her thinly veiled amusement was like fuel to the fire. “You kind of brought this on yourself.”
Steve helped me right the table. I’d used the strength of the prosthetic arm, my metal arm, to flip the long and heavy table but it took the two of us to safely put it back without damaging it further.
“What am I running here? A doss house for delinquents and vandals? First Captain Blunder here totals the theatre door and then Fist of Victory smashes up Pepper’s fourth favourite dinner table.” Tony tossed the empty aerosols in the trash can before rounding on Nat and me. “This comes out of your wages.”
“I don’t get wages.” I said flatly as Tony turned to leave.
He stopped.
“And this…” He circled his hand in the air, indicating the mess of furniture, “this is why you don’t.”
Then he was gone, sauntering out of the lounge with more sass in his walk than a Drag Queen who had just been told her hair do is more of a hair don’t.
“I guess that means I don’t get my April Fool wish?” Nat called after him.
There was no reply, only a ‘talk to the hand’ gesture as Tony disappeared from sight.
Once the lounge was put back to its former state, mostly, the team hung around with the exception of Colonel Rhodes, Wanda and Vision. Talk turned easily to Tony’s April Fools challenge.
Issued a few years ago when The Avengers were still a new entity on the global stage, Tony’s challenge was simple: If anyone could actually get an April Fools prank over on him then he would grant them one wish. Obviously killing people and giving away his fortune were out of the question, but the promised wish was tantalising enough for Natasha to keep at it year after year. I asked her what she’d wish for but she remained silent on the subject.
“So, let me get this straight.” Sam was very interested in this new opportunity to amuse himself at the Stark’s expense. “All I have to do is get him to fall for a prank and he’ll give me any one thing I ask for?”
“That’s about the size of it, yeah.” Steve clasped his hands together atop the table.
“So I can drive one of his rare cars, or have him make me my own iron suit?” Sam’s eyes lit up.
“How do you think Rhodey got War Machine?” Clint interjected.
“Not a whole bunch of hard work and ass-kissin’ after all?” Sam was elated. “There’s hope for me yet!”
“We could certainly use another Iron Douche right about now.” I jibed.
“You think you can make a better wish, then go for it.” Sam challenged. “You’d probably wish for a life-time supply of Jojo bows for your man-bun, or give your wish to Nat.”
“What the fuck is a Jojo bow?” I scoffed, glossing over the fact that I would happily give my wish to Natasha if I had one.
If she wanted it bad enough to keep trying every year then she deserved it more than I did. I had no idea what I would try to prank Tony with or even how I’d go about it. He pretty much hated me after what I, he, did to his folks; any prank I pulled would just come across as vindictive.
“Whatever man, I know you got like ten of them in your Bucky beauty kit.” Sam dismissed with a wave. “Just look at you. All smouldering eyes and good hair and shit.” He turned to stalk off to the open-plan kitchen muttering a hood humoured ‘disgusting’ as he went to the fridge for beers.
“I hate you.” I groaned, mortified.
Sam, Steve, Nat, Clint and I sat around the repositioned table with a couple of beers plotting to get one over on Tony. I was clueless for ideas but I had stealth on my side so I volunteered my services to anyone who needed it, choosing to be an instrument rather than the driving force of a plan.
“I tried that last year.” Nat said, tipping the bottle to her lips. “Turns out he’s particularly attuned to the smell of Oreos so he saw the toothpaste filling coming a mile off.”
“Tony does like his treats.” Steve chuckled, rolling his bottle between his palms.
“Treats, cookies, candy, peanuts, collecting the souls of the damned.” Clint said deadpan.
“Jesus that took a turn down the dark highway pretty fast.” I laughed.
“So what’s already been tried before?” Sam might as well have gotten out a notepad at this point, he was so invested in this challenge.
“Well, last year I did the toothpaste Oreo thing. The year before that I had Pepper replace the cream in his deodorant stick with philly cheese.”
“That’s fucked up!” Sam was snickering. “How did he see that coming?”
“I have no idea.” She sighed. “Apparently he isn’t as distracted by his own genius as I thought he was.”
“Alright, what else?” Sam pushed the discussion, leaning back in his chair.
“Clint put saran wrap on the toilet nearest the lab that first year.”
“He see it?”
“Nahhhh.” Clint smirked. “Got Banner good though.”
“Poor Bruce.” Nat was smirking at the memory. “That air horn I taped under the chair in Tony’s lab was another one that Bruce sprung early. We thought we’d have to test VERONICA on him right there and then.” She was laughing softly.
“Veronica?” Suddenly I was interested. What about Veronica? Was she enhanced after all?
“VERONICA is a mobile unit deployed from a space satellite, designed by Tony, Banner and Vee – Dr Edwards.” Steve added at the end for my benefit no doubt. “Its purpose is as an emergency response to a Hulk rampage, Hulkbuster suit, electrified containment shell, other miscellaneous gadgets.”
“Tony named it VERONICA after Vee who generated most of the ideas for the project.” Nat filled in, answering the last question that floated through my mind.
“Makes sense.” I nodded. “So did Banner fully turn?”
“Almost.” Nat smirked again. She had a way with him, they were each other’s soft spot. “He got a little green around the gills, but I had a handle on it.”
I was pretty sure that was her way of saying that she fucked him silly to snap him out of it. Each to their own. Banner was a brilliant guy and Natasha was an amazing woman, they worked on so many levels.
“Alright, next!” Sam was a slave driver. “I need more intel, people. C’mon!”
It was pushing 2am and I was ready for my bed. Eyes gritty and yawning every other minute, I made my excuses to the group and headed to my room. As I left Clint was continuing to regale Sam with tales of past prank fails.
“One year, Thor switched Tony’s fro-yo with mayo. I thought for sure he’d fall for it but the bastard got the tub out of the freezer and spread the stuff on his BLT sandwich right in front of us. Smug sonofabitch.”
It seemed like Stark had some kind of sixth sense for this kind of tomfoolery. Maybe it was because he knew his team so well that he could read them. Maybe he was über paranoid and checked every last detail, even right down to how his fro-yo smelled.
Maybe it wasn’t such an off-the-wall idea to try. I was the newest addition to the team, mostly kept to myself, shied away from offending anyone. Plus, Tony hated me and didn’t see me as a friend at all so maybe I was his blind spot. Maybe I’d be enough of a blindside to make a difference to someone like Nat or Sam. Maybe, just maybe, I could sneak a prank of my own in under his RADAR.
One wish! What would I do with it?
At that point I was pretty much thinking of Tony Stark as a red and gold robot version of the Genie in Disney’s Aladdin. Except instead of Robin William’s hilariously fun humour, Tony was giving snarky Stark sarcasm.
One wish?
I closed my eyes to the world but the thought still whirled in my head.
One wish? One prank?
When the nightmares came they twisted everything. Through sweat and tears I fought my dreams, fought him and everything he endured, until the blackness of deep sleep finally claimed me and only one thought remained.
The Winter Soldier and me, we were just two sides of the same coin. One flip, one man, two faces.