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John Walker usually had plans on a Friday night. Well, not plans, per se, but he’d be at home with his wife and son. They’d be watching old sports reels on TV, or be reading a picture book. He’d do the odd voices his kid loved and he claimed to be embarrassed by. But it was all worth it when they were smiling.
If that weren’t the case, he’d be at some press event or out with his fellow Thunderbolts/New Avengers. The point was that something usually took him out of the Watchtower, where he usually lived on weekends. He would be back that night, but the evening was busy.
But this night was different. Somehow, he found himself sitting restlessly on the couch, knees bouncing with restless energy.
Most everybody else was out. Bucky at some government event (John didn’t know how Barnes managed to keep his congressman position), Ava was visiting with an old friend (she had friends???), Yelena had refused to disclose her destination (probably a date), and Alexei was… honestly, John didn’t care enough to remember or even know.
So that just left him. And Luna and Bob.
John had no problem with Luna Barnes. The kid had spunk, and he respected her fierceness and maturity. She was lucky she hadn’t inherited any of her dad’s annoying attributes. Or maybe John just had a thing against Bucky Barnes.
And Bob was… Bob. Not exactly the type of person John typically chose to hang around with, but he was family. Besides, Bob usually just sat and read or something. He wasn’t exactly social, even after everything.
The fact of the matter was, neither of them was the kind of people John Walker would generally keep the company of. It didn’t exactly matter anyway. Both were holed up in their rooms, pretty much dead to the world at the moment.
John was bored out of his mind. There were no good sports games on TV, and he was certainly not going to pick up a book.
There was usually one other solution to his boredom- lifting weights. Even though he was a Super Soldier and could practically effortlessly pick up the heaviest barbell in the workout room, he was still driven by the thrill of it. The feeling of pushing his body to the brink kept his mind occupied, his heart racing. Sure, he had to pump for a good five minutes to start feeling the burn, but it was cathartic.
As he lifted- up, down, up, down- John could feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. It took twice as long to get him tired as before the serum.
He stopped a few minutes later, breathing more laboriously than usual. He swung his arms around, trying to stretch and pop his back.
It felt good. He missed this feeling.
John wandered into the kitchen, where he opened the fridge. He took stock momentarily, grimacing at the scent of refrigerated food. The leftovers needed to be cleaned out soon, but he was certainly not going to be the one to do it.
He took out a beer and was about to close the fridge when a voice said, “Grab me one.”
The kitchen had been so silent, and John hadn’t heard anyone come in. He was startled and banged his elbow on the fridge door.
“God,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
He peered around the door and saw Luna sitting at the sleek metal counter, peering down at her phone. She wore a large, ancient-looking Led Zeppelin tee and her trademark ratty jeans.
Luna looked up when he glared at her, and she snorted a little. John’s glare deepened, hiding his embarrassment. Although he was sure his face was turning red or pink.
“I didn’t even hear you come in,” he said. Luna shrugged and returned to looking at her phone, long dark chestnut hair falling in front of her face.
She grunted dismissively.
“Hydra training, I guess,” she murmured.
Ego slightly sore, John chucked a can at her at full speed. Luna snatched the beer from the air and cracked it open without looking up.
“Are you even allowed to have that? Legally, I mean?” John said, opening his own can on the counter.
Luna glanced up and raised her eyebrows.
“I’m twenty-two,” she said.
“Actually?” John took a long drink.
“How old did you think I was?”
John shrugged.
“Like, fifteen?”
Luna choked on her drink, attempting to hold back laughter.
“Fifteen?” she repeated incredulously. “Don’t you know how kids work? Don’t you have a son?”
“Having a son does not mean I automatically know how kids work.”
When the fridge let out three tinny beeps, John turned to shut it. Luna finished swallowing her drink and set it down.
“Wait-” she said to Walker, then turned towards the entryway attached to the kitchen and called, “Do you want any, Bob?”
There was the sound of the couch creaking stiffly and socks on the solid floor. Suddenly, Bob appeared in the doorway, sporting his classic blue sweater and corduroy pants.
“Any what?” he asked mildly.
Luna lifted her beer and waved her hand over it, as if presenting a prize at an auction.
“Oh, no thanks. Um, water, though? I’ll take some water.”
“You want water,” John shut the fridge and walked towards the pantry. “You get it yourself.”
He wasn’t being rude; he was just being himself. Maybe himself was a bit rude. So what? That was how things worked in the group. A dynamic that everyone was now comfortable with.
However, instead of walking to the fridge, Bob sat at one of the bar stools at the counter. He looked at Luna and wrinkled his brow.
“Are you old enough to drink that?” He asked.
Luna threw her hand up in exasperation.
“I’m twenty-two! Why does everybody assume…” she trailed off, shaking her head.
“It’s probably because you’re Bucky’s daughter,” Bob supplied ‘helpfully’. Luna hummed in response.
John entered the pantry and took stock of his options. A moment later, he emerged with a bag of pork skins.
“What are you guys up to tonight?” Luna inquired.
“Reading,” Bob said, “Unless you guys want to do something. We could play cards, or…” he trailed off awkwardly.
“Sorry, Bob.” Luna stood. “I’ve got some reading to do myself. Mission reports. Nowhere near as interesting as your book, I’m sure.”
Luna’s keen observation skills and general lack of busyness had led to her being designated as Mission Archivist. Because they needed that, apparently.
John was pretty sure the original Avengers never had such a thing, but Val insisted. Probably because it was something that meant less work for her.
Luna left the kitchen through one entryway and John through the opposite, getting out of there before Bob asked if he wanted to play cards.
Walker settled on the large sofa in the movie room, taking off his shoes and stretching his legs onto the massive bean bag he had dragged in front of him.
The movie room had been built after the team had moved in, as a sort of apology gift from Val. However, it was a mutual agreement that, though they accepted the gift, she would never be forgiven. Maybe she knew that. Maybe it was more of a consolation present.
Whatever it was, the theatre room was the home of many a movie night or binge day for the team. They all had their own spots on the right-angle couch by unspoken rule.
John usually sat on one end of the couch, leaning against the armrest. On the other end, next to the other armrest, Bucky usually sat. Ava was typically curled up in the corner of the couch, and on the side of her closer to John was where Alexei and Yelena sat. Luna would sprawl on the beanbag next to her dad’s legs, and Bob would be right next to it with his back resting against the couch, where no one’s legs were.
Now Walker could claim any spot he wanted. Yet, naturally, he settled in his usual place.
There was nothing worth watching on TV. Again, no sports games. And John wasn’t a fan of any of the drama or sci-fi shows that populated streaming services.
He eventually settled on some eighties low-budget action movie. However, a little way into the film, he realised he’d seen it before. But he was too tired to change it.
That’s when the storm struck.
Thunderstorms weren’t entirely uncommon in New York. However, they were always brief and not intense. But not this one.
Suddenly, a loud sound picked up. To John, it sounded like the bullets of a machine gun. He shot up.
Heart racing, Walker sprinted out of the theatre room. His body was fueled by adrenaline, and he felt ready to fight.
It sounded like the machine gun fire was coming from the kitchen. He ran past the front room sofa. As he darted past, he picked up his shield, which was leaning against the couch.
Barreling into the kitchen, John let out a war cry. He whirled around, looking for the enemy.
There was a harsh scraping noise, and John turned toward it. He stilled when he saw Bob standing with his hands up and eyes wide.
“D-don't shoot!” Bob shouted nervously.
“Bob?” John furrowed his brow. “I thought I heard a machine gun.”
He realised the sound of what he had thought to be bullets had not stopped. As he turned around, he looked out the window to see heavy raindrops pelting the window. They made a quick plinkplinkplinkplink sound that was very similar to the firing of a gun. The scraping sound he had heard had been Bob pushing out his barstool to stand.
John sighed and lowered his shield, a bit frustrated with himself. He turned to Bob, who still looked a little rattled.
“Are you alright?” he asked the man across the table.
“Yeah,” Bob said, stepping around the table.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine.”
But Walker noticed one of Bob’s hands clenched into a fist by his side, while the other picked at a loose thread on his sweater.
John often overreacted to things, so that couldn’t be what had Bob so tense.
“Hell of a storm, huh?” Walker asked. Bob just nodded and turned his gaze out the window.
“Uh-huh.”
John started walking towards the archway, looking at Bob and trying to figure out what had him so rattled. Could it be the storm?
“Well, I’m gonna go finish my movie…”
“Okay.”
Bob was probably fine, John thought. The dude just had a naturally nervous disposition, and the loud rain had set him off a little.
John began returning to the movie room. As he walked through the living room, there was the unmistakable boom of thunder.
He heard quick, padded footsteps in the kitchen and poked his head back in, just in time to see Bob dart away through the opposite entrance.
Eventually settling back on the couch in the theatre, Walker rewound his movie. However, the rumble and patter of the storm outside slowly grew louder, and for some reason, he could not focus on the film in front of him.
By the time the credits rolled, he couldn’t remember what the big plot twist was, despite this being his second viewing.
He left, leaving his shield on the couch. He always left it lying around, which was a point of complaint for the others. John genuinely did not care.
He stopped in the living room, looking out the window. The storm hadn’t stopped, and the rage outside was madder than ever. The thunder began to shake the building frequently, and flashes of lightning were making an appearance.
John felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and opened the text notification from Yelena to the group chat.
Yelena (21:45)
the storms too bad. i cant travel in this weather.
A moment later, another notification popped up.
Ava (21:45)
Me either I’m assuming it’s the same for Bucky and Alexi
Walker sent a thumbs-up emoji in response. This information didn’t change anything. It’s not like once the others got home, they’d all end up occupied with some group activity.
Suddenly, a shockwave of thunder louder than anything from before shook the Tower.
John’s hands immediately went up to brace himself on the wall. After the sound passed, he moved closer to the window and tried to look out. Thunder that loud meant lightning was very close.
He couldn’t see anything past the thick curtain of heavy raindrops. However, he could hear the distant wail of an emergency vehicle’s siren.
His heart was still pounding, but it was slowly slowing down. The noise had been too similar to the sound of an IED for comfort. But he shook it off.
I should see if Luna and Bob are alright.
No, that’s weird, He thought a moment later.
But…
Bob had seemed frightened before. And if he was checking up on Bob, he might as well see if Luna was alright in the storm.
He entered the hallway where all the bedrooms were located. It was dimly lit, and he began walking down it, towards Luna’s door marked with a large wooden sign that bore her name.
As he was walking, Luna’s door burst open. He barely had time to register the fact before a streaking blur ran straight into his chest at full speed.
He was knocked back a bit in surprise, and it took him a moment to realise the blur was Luna.
“Woah, woah, woah,” John said.
He pulled her away from him, grabbing her elbows. She looked up at him, hair hanging partially over her face. There was a wild look in her eye.
John recognised the emotions splayed across her face. They were similar to the ones he had felt when the loud thunderclap hit- sheer panic, despair, fear. They ran across her blue eyes in a frenzy. Walker also realised they were red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying.
Luna attempted to break free of his grip. He held fast.
“Luna- Luna, what’s wrong?”
Her breathing was fast and shallow, so shallow she couldn’t get any air in.
John knew what was happening. It was PTSD- something he was all too familiar with, being in the military. He’d seen far too many friends and comrades succumb to it, or have episodes like Luna seemed to be having.
“I have to go!” Luna cried, trying to wrench free again.
Luckily, Walker was a Super Soldier.
“I have to- I have to-”
But Luna had years of HYDRA training, and she somehow twisted free of his arm and delivered a fierce kick to John’s side. He grunted in both surprise and pain, then turned as she raced past him.
He grabbed her arm, and she collapsed to the ground. He let go of her arm.
John Walker wasn’t the paternal type. Despite having a son, he was careless when it came to the emotions of people around him. It was why he only ever had one true friend before.
It was why his wife was probably going to divorce him.
Seeing Luna, a member of his team- no- his family on the ground, terrified by the world around her? He knew he wanted to help, but he just didn’t instinctively know how.
It was the same feeling he had felt in The Void with Bob and the others. He had that experience. He knew Luna was different from Bob, though, and the same things wouldn’t work for her.
He knelt next to her.
“Luna, what’s wrong?”
She looked at him, and the slow and steady tone of his voice seemed to snap her out of it. She blinked a couple of times, and her gaze turned downward. Luna seemed to take in her quaking hands, lying palm-up on her torn jeans. She was silent for a moment.
John heard another door open behind him. He turned and looked up to see Bob stepping out, genuine concern written across his face.
“Is everything okay out here?” Bob asked.
He then saw Luna on her knees behind John’s square build, and the crease in his brow deepened.
“No,” John said bluntly.
He wasn’t going to lie and say everything was fine. He turned back to Luna.
She seemed intensely focused on her palms, but at least she wasn’t stuck in a panicked frenzy anymore.
Bob walked over and sat cross-legged on the other side of her.
“Are you okay?” John asked him. “You didn’t look so hot earlier.”
Bob shrugged. “The storm is kind of intense,” he said, bouncing his knee.
“Kind of?” Walker asked, eyebrow raised.
“Okay, so it is intense.”
John bobbed his head once.
“Stop talking like I’m not here,” Luna finally spoke, her voice raw.
“So she speaks,” Walker said.
Luna just huffed and laughed without humour, voice shaking.
The three of them sat there in silence for a moment.
“I thought it was over,” Luna muttered. “I thought the memories from the past would stay in the past. It’s been years since my dad saved me. Since I’ve been on a mission for HYDRA.”
“But you’ve done other stuff,” Bob offered. “Didn’t you help fight Th-Thanos?”
Luna shook her head. “Yeah, but that’s different.”
She began to speak more quietly. John could see tears pooling in her eyes, but they hadn’t poured down her face just yet.
“It’s ironic,” she said. “I’m a Thunderbolt, and I’m afraid of thunder.”
Just then- speak of the devil- another loud crack shook the building.
Luna yelped and sprang forward, covering her ears and crashing into John’s chest. Walker’s arms caught her in surprise, and she began to shake with a dam of sobs let free.
He instinctively resisted momentarily, his body stiffening and his breathing gone. His parents had pretty much disowned him after Latvia and the fallout of that. But when he’d been young and still living with them, he learned to keep his vulnerabilities to himself. And if he did crack, all he got was an awkward pat on the back.
So now, with Luna frightened and leaning on him for support, he was being awkward. But that passed momentarily.
He pulled her in, surprisingly not irked by the fact that her tears were dampening his shirt.
They sat there for a few minutes, Luna’s heaving yet slowly fading sobs the only sound. Bob stared at the floor respectfully, and John kept his eyes locked on the top of Luna’s head. However, once Luna’s cries were down to just sniffles, the quiet was a bit uncomfortable.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and smiling.
“Look at me, a grown-ass woman crying on the floor.”
“Yeah, well, this night has been quite the realisation of how bad my lack of paternal instincts really are,” John joked.
“Actually, I think you’ll do a great job raising your son.”
Luna looked at him, genuineness written across her face. John just laughed, but…
Maybe she was right?
Bob got up. “I’m going to go back to my room, I guess,” he said.
He began to turn and retreat back into his room when Luna interrupted.
“Actually, can we… do something?” She looked at both him and Walker, then back at the ground. “The storm’s not over yet, and-”
“Say no more,” John stood, and Luna did as well.
Next thing you know, the three of them were in the movie room. Bob and Luna took their respective places on and next to the bean bag, and John settled on the couch.
Somehow, Luna found the movie John had been watching earlier. She was possessed by the confounding urge to watch it, and Bob heartily agreed. John couldn’t say no, just as he couldn’t admit that he had just gone through the entire thing.
This time around, John could focus on the plot. He felt comfortable, and not just because Luna had tossed a blanket at him that he was now wrapped up in.
John didn’t realise his eyes had drifted shut until he startled awake right as the movie ended. Bob was gone, but Luna was curled up on the beanbag and snoring. Loudly.
The sound was akin to a monster truck, and John couldn’t stand it, so he stood to leave.
Luna was a good kid. Sure, she had scars from her past, but literally everyone living in the tower did as well. They’d always be there for her, just as she was there for them.
And the next time a storm hit, though nowhere near as bad as the first one, they worked through it. Luckily, Ava was there to take over the hugging part.
It wasn’t always Luna, and it wasn’t always a storm. But each time, they were there for each other, in some awkward, imperfect way. They had each other.