Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

10:38 AM. On a Tuesday in September.

“Can you guys at least pretend to listen to me?”

Bucky has a migraine; which, of course, is nothing new.

He’s been trying to brief the others on their upcoming mission for the past seven—he checks the clock again— eight minutes.

Alexei fell asleep in his chair almost as soon as Bucky started talking. He sits at the other head of the table in the conference room, head thrown back, his snoring gradually increasing in volume. 

Yelena sits to his right, looking down at her lap as she texts someone inconspicuously—most likely Kate Bishop, judging by the faint smile on her lips. 

Ava and Walker sit across from her. Ava’s playing around with a pocket knife, checking her teeth in its reflection, while Walker doodles in a little notepad. Bucky thought he was taking notes and was thoroughly impressed until he caught a glance of a cartoonish sketch of Alexei sleeping in his chair. 

Bob seems to be the only one paying attention, but he’s completely zoned out, staring at the board with glazed eyes. They’re hopeless, Bucky thinks to himself, rubbing his face with no small amount of exasperation.

His first remark goes unnoticed, so he goes from bored to annoyed. “Guys,” he barks, hands on his hips.

Everyone’s startled—except for Sleeping Beauty. Yelena sneaks her phone into the pocket of her sweatshirt, Walker pulls the notepad into his lap, Ava drops her knife on the table and cringes as it clatters to a halt, and Bob finally snaps out of his reverie. 

The room is silent for a few seconds as Bucky glares at each one of them, his team’s faces ranging from scared to guilty to mildly apologetic. The silence is punctuated by a loud snore. 

Yelena punches her dad in the shoulder to wake him up. He stirs, lolls his head to rest on his own shoulder, then falls back asleep. Walker rolls his eyes and moves over to punch Alexei, hard, in the chest.

“HEY! What’s-who’s going on?” Alexei trails off as he comes to. He rubs his eyes, blinking violently as he sits up straight. Finally, he notices Bucky scowling at him with the intensity of a thousand fires.

“Oh, Bucky,” he starts, looking genuinely apologetic, “I am so sorry. Last night, I—with the kids,” he gestures at the very adult children sitting with him, “and the movies about the space wars, I got so few sleep.”

“Star Wars, Dad,” Yelena says.

“Yes, yes, Star War.” Alexei waves her off. “Please, Mr. Sol— Bucky,” he corrects himself, “continue your briefs.” Ava quietly laughs, disguising it as a cough when Bucky glances at her. 

Sinking into his chair, Bucky relaxes from frustrated to just grumpy as he lets out a big and audible sigh. “Does anyone remember what I was talking about?” he says. Blank stares. “...Alright, I’ll start from the beginning, I guess.” 

He mumbles something else under his breath nobody can hear, then stands and taps around on the board to go back to the first slide. After a few moments of confusion, and after Ava’s offer to help is firmly rejected, he gives up and turns back to face the group.

“I’ll just summarize what I was saying before. Our next mission is to find her.” Bucky points back to the board, which shows a passport photo of an unsmiling woman. “Radhika Ryan. South Asian, mid-twenties, black hair, five-foot-seven.

“In two weeks, she’s going to be at the Guggenheim where they’ll be opening her new exhibit to the public, some project about the human condition, or something.” He shrugs. “I skimmed that part. Our job is to—”

“I think you pronounced her name wrong,” Yelena interrupts.

“What?”

“You said ra-DI-ka. It’s Radhika. RAH-dhi-cuh,” she sounds out.

“Does this matter?”

“I’m just saying, it’s good to learn people’s names. Show them respect.” Yelena leans back in her chair, fingers twisting around the string of her hoodie. She waves at him to continue.

“...Okay,” Bucky says, nodding slowly. “When we get to the Guggenheim, our objective is to—” Bucky stops, then lets out another sigh at the raised hand across from him. “Yes, Alexei?” 

“Sorry! Mr. Bucky, sorry. What is this Gutentag you say?” 

“It’s the Guggenheim,” Walker answers. “It’s an art museum.”

“Ahhh, ok, so she’s a painter?” Alexei nods, grinning. “I understand. She is going to be like Hitler, that’s why we stop her, no?”

“What?” Walker and Bucky say, at the same time, in the same bewildered tone.

“Wait, actually, that kind of makes sense,” Ava says, cocking her head sideways.

“No, but Hitler never got into any art galleries or anything,” Bob responds casually, “that’s why he turned evil. Radhika seems to be pretty successful if she’s in the Guggenheim.”

“What are you talking about Bob? It’s the Gutentag,” Yelena says, impersonating her dad. “She is painter in Gutentag!” She yells, throwing up a fist, making the other two laugh.

“YELENA!” Alexei swats his daughter on the arm. “NO MAKING FUN OF DAD IN CONFERENCE ROOM!” The kids look at each other, then burst into laughter.

“Guys, come on,” Bucky says dryly; nobody hears him. Everyone does their best Alexei impression (Ava’s is impressively accurate, but Yelena’s takes the cake). The man himself just fuels more giggling by scolding them, then cursing in Russian. Yelena responds by covering her ears and spouting gibberish.

Bucky sighs again, apparently trying to break the world record for most sighs in a 15-minute span. He walks over to the light switch and flips it off; the windows are still open, so it’s not pitch-black dark, but it’s noticeable enough for everyone to stop speaking and turn towards him.

“Fucking children,” he mutters under his breath. Running fingers through his hair, Bucky finally gets to the important part.

“Valentina wants us to recruit Ryan because she’s a super-powered individual.” 

As expected, the room bursts into chaos again.

Walker stopped listening the second Valentina was mentioned, and argues against the plan only because he hates every mission she’s involved in. He’s too fired up to notice that nobody is listening to him.

Ava and Alexei are offended that they need another member with superpowers; they both think of themself as the most powerful Thunderbolt. Their agreement soon turns sour as this fact becomes evident.

Yelena starts listing reasons why they don’t need a seventh member, and while Bucky can’t totally hear her, there’s a lot of gesturing towards Bob, who’s fidgeting with his sleeve while deep in concentration.

“Okay,” Bucky says patiently. “Okay, guys, calm down. Look, can I at least explain why we’re going after her?” Suddenly remembering a trick Sam taught him back in Louisiana with the boys, he shouts, “One-two-three, eyes on me!”

As if programmed to, Walker and Bob whip around to face him and chant, “One, two, eyes on you.” The non-Americans stare in almost-horror.

“What was that?” Yelena says slowly.

“I’m treating you guys like the children you are,” Bucky retorts. Everyone was gagged. “Now can I please continue?” He gets a few nods. “Perfect.

“The wonderful people working with Valentina think that as a superhero team, we’re not collectively strong enough to be called ‘Avengers’. Even though our team has three supersoldiers, an assassin, a…” He hesitates, looking at Ava. “Phaser?”

“Intangible mercenary,” she corrects.

“An intangible mercenary, and what I think may be a god, the original Avengers had the Hulk. Which, I guess,” Bucky deadpans, “looks better on paper.” Walker shrugs in silent agreement.

“And they don’t count Bob as a superhero, since, well, he’s still figuring out how to manage his powers. We all do, though.” He says quickly, glancing at Bob. “Think you’re part of the team.”

Yelena punches him in the shoulder gently, grinning. “Thanks, Bucky,” Bob says, smiling warmly. He thinks he sees a ghost of a smile on Bucky’s face before he turns to face everyone else.

“But I honestly think recruiting her would be a good idea. Not for us, but for her. This report says… wait, where was that page…” He trails off, flipping through a packet on the table. 

“Ah. Her powers are ‘derived from the Reality Stone’ and include…energy construct generation…” He glances up, radiating confusion. “Reality manipulation…energy projection…oh! Basically, she has powers similar to Wanda Maximoff.”

Everyone goes “Ohhh” in unison, except for Alexei, who mumbles “I knew that.”

“If you guys remember the Westview hostages, I think you’d agree that Ryan shouldn’t be alone. With that much power, she could fly off the handle at any given moment. Being part of a team, knowing she’s not alone in this…” Bucky pauses. “It’s helped us so far.” He shrugs.

There’s a moment of silence as everyone contemplates whether this is a good idea. Bucky, too, is reconsidering his plan. 

For the last couple of months, he’s been hanging out with the same 5 idiots who barely manage to complete a mission without it blowing up in their face. Without any strong motivation, and a healthy heaping of bad luck, they’ve succeeded in failing all their missions since they assembled.

But they’re his idiots, and he’s come to like their little ragtag family of fuck-ups. They may make him want to pull his hair out at times (read: all the time), but he knows he’d die to keep any and all of them safe. 

They’re a superhero team with the biggest losing streak in history, and Bucky’s their leader. Someday, he might take pride in that, but right now…

Maybe a new member could change things, he muses. Radhika could be an amazing leader, keep the group organized and safe…a better leader than him, he thinks grimly…

“I think,” Bob starts absentmindedly, then stops as everyone swivels their chairs to look at him. Blushing profusely, he continues: “I think that we should try. I mean, at least, just so nobody can get to her first and convince her to, I don’t know, destroy New York or something.” His hands are gesturing wildly, excitedly as he tries to get his point across.

“Like, I’m glad you guys were there to save me from Valentina, because otherwise…” Bob falls silent as they all remember that brief period of absolute darkness all those months ago. “I’m just saying, you know, it’s just…” He shrugs sheepishly. “The right thing to do.”

For a group that never shuts up, they really like their moments of silence. But Alexei gets the ball rolling, as he always does.

“I agree,” he says, a little too loudly. “It’s our duty, as Avengerz with a Z,” (Yelena groans) “to protect the New Yorkers. And, you know,”  he adds as an afterthought, “everyone else. 

“And she is a New Yorker, no? So we must protect her…” He takes a dramatic pause, grinning like a fool. “From herself. Ah? Smart, right?” He elbows Walker.

“I don’t know about smart , but sure.” Alexei frowns.

“Bob’s right,” Ava interjects. “Someone this powerful shouldn’t be controlled by anyone, even if it is just us. The least we can do is try to convince her to use her powers for good.

“But,” she says, feigning casualness, “if she really wants to, we’ll think about letting her join our team.” 

“Well, it’ll look good on paper.” Everyone stares at Walker. “What? That’s—Isn’t that what Bucky was saying before with the Hulk?”

“Yeah, but it sounds worse when you say it,” Yelena says dryly. Bucky forces himself not to laugh.

Alexei claps loudly, making Bob jump. “So! It’s settled, then. Bucky, tell us about the plan.”

Bucky glances around the room. “You all agree?” He gets a resounding “yes”.

“Alright, then."

Chapter Text

7:54 PM. On a Friday in October.

Bucky’s standing by the elevator, checking his watch every fifteen seconds.

“We’re not going to be late,” Yelena says as she walks in. 

“I got it all timed out, and they’re going to make us late.”

“We could just leave them here. They can take the subway.” 

Bucky raises his eyebrows as if to say I wish.

Yelena hops up on one of the bar stools, leaning against the counter to face him. “I like your outfit.”

“I don’t,” he says dryly. “Your dress is nice, though.” 

“Actually, it’s a jumpsuit.” They’re all wearing semi-formal clothing because Bucky insisted they blend in. He’s got his navy blue suit, and she’s wearing a black blazer over a black jumpsuit covered in tiny silver stars. 

“You like it right?” She nods with a grin. “It’s great. And I got pockets too, see? Very cool.”

Bucky smiles politely, then goes back to checking his watch.

Ava walks in then, wearing a plum-colored sweater, a skirt, and stockings. “We don’t have to wear heels, do we?” she says, scratching nervously at her wrist. “I’m having enough fucking trouble without my suit, I don’t need to be tripping too.”

“No heels, I promise,” Bucky says, glancing at her boots, part of the suit she begrudgingly left behind. They’re not very discreet, but he has a metal arm, so he’ll take it. “Where are the guys?”

She shrugs. “Still getting dressed, maybe. Hey, is my makeup too much?” She leans her face closer to Yelena.

“No, it’s nice.” Yelena smiles. “I told you, purple and silver go good together.”

Minutes later, Bob and Walker walk in. Bob’s got on a blazer over a Nirvana tee and slacks, while Walker has a leather jacket, a plain white shirt, and jeans. Bucky checks his watch: 7:57. If Alexei doesn’t get his ass in the elevator in two minutes… he thinks.

Yelena looks over and laughs. “Hey Walker, James Dean called, he wants his wardrobe back.”

“At least I look like a hot person, you guys look like shit.” 

“Um, no, we don’t,” says Ava. “And why are you wearing sunglasses indoors, like an asshole? It’s almost eight o’clock. (“Don’t remind me,” Bucky mutters.) People are going to think you’re blind.”

“No, they won’t. I look cool.” Walker smirks until he looks over at Bob, who’s cringing. “What?”

“You look like a hot person? You've gotta come up with better comebacks, dude,” says Bob, shaking his head.

Bucky checks again: 7:59. “Alright, everyone get in the elevator.”

“What about Alexei?” asks Bob.

“He’s taking too goddamn long,” Bucky snaps, stepping in. “We’re going to be late.”

“Aren’t you punctual?” Ava quips.

“Yeah, it’s okay if we’re five minutes late, it doesn’t matter,” says Walker, putting the sunglasses in his pocket.

“Shut up, Walker.” Yelling at him makes Bucky feel slightly better. He pushes the button for the ground floor and watches as the doors close.

A large hand gets through the elevator doors, forcing them open. Everyone gets shoved to the side as Alexei barges in. “Sorry, everybody. Could not decide what to wear for the longest time.”

Ava tears up and Bob lets out a cough. “What, did you shower in cologne?” Yelena chokes out.

“Yelena, don’t be rediculos,” Alexei says, smoothing down his maroon suit. “I only did, what, fifteen, sixteen pumps?”

Everyone groans as the elevator doors close.

Their Escalade is infinitely more comfortable than any truck or limo they’ve ever been in, bar none. Its walls were expanded to house several secret compartments; Yelena sits in the back so she can open all of them and drop their contents in Bob’s lap, apparently taking inventory.

Alexei discovers snacks underneath his seat and opens a very large bag of Nerds Gummy Clusters, munching happily and occasionally handing some to the others.

Messing around with the TV on the back of Bucky’s chair, Ava discovers she can alter traffic, order a drone strike, control the car’s various guns, and change the lighting inside the car: “Oooh, that one’s interesting.”

Bucky doesn’t know how Walker ended up sitting next to him, but the guy keeps flipping channels on the radio. Every time Bucky hears a song he faintly recognizes, Walker makes a face and switches the channel.

Eventually, at a red light, Bucky swats Walker’s hand away and hands over his phone, so he can play something “normal”.

When they pull into Bucky's parking spot, a few minutes’ walk from the museum, they've gone from Queen* to Talking Heads* to, in a surprise move from Alexei, Rihanna*.

On the walk there, Bucky asks them, one last time, to “just please, repeat it back to me, so I know you guys know what you’re supposed to do.”

Ava rolls her eyes and starts. “Target is Radhika Ryan, objective is to make her our friend.”

“We can’t coerce her into it,” Bob adds, “or use violence.” He grimaces suddenly.

“And—oh, sorry, Bob, I step on your foot—we first get her alone. In case she responds with violence.”

“Then we can beat the shit out of her.” 

“Yelena.”

“What? That’s true, no? You explicitly said that self-defense or fighting her to protect everyone else is okay.”

Bucky opens his mouth to say something, then sighs instead. “Yes, technically.” Yelena smirks.

“And in case it doesn’t work, we try to slip her a wireless tracker,” concludes Walker.

“Nice, guys, good job,” Bucky says. They all perk up at the praise; doing a good job is rare for them. “But you forgot the most important part.” He walks past them up to the doors.

Everyone looks confused. 

“Be nice."

Bucky knew they’d want some time to explore before they start hunting Radhika down, which is why he was so adamant about timing. 

So for the next thirty minutes, the Thunderbolts enjoy their first friend group museum trip.

Walker takes pictures of everything he sees, which slows everyone else down. But Alexei is more of a hindrance, because every 3rd painting they see, he begs Yelena to take a picture of him next to it.

Ava goes missing for a while, because she tries to climb up the side of the ridges (Bob bet her fifty bucks she couldn’t touch the glass ceiling; she does, and leaves her gum behind as a calling card).

Bucky both urges the others to keep moving and stops to inspect a mixed media project for five whole minutes. He also takes a plethora of group photos (most of them candid; he tried to take a nice picture on the first floor and everyone made funny faces, so he quit trying).

Around the fourth level, Alexei gets very hungry, so he walks back down to leave and find some food.

“Thank God,” Bucky whispers to Yelena. “I didn't want to break it to him.”

“Break what?”

“I'm not sure he'd be that great at, well, selling the Thunderbolts.” Yelena nods solemnly.

Bucky checks his watch. 9:04. “Okay, guys, let's head up to—HEY!” he suddenly yells, going up to the ledge.

Ava and Bob each have one leg in their hand. Walker is dangling over the edge of the wall, taking a picture of the opposite side.

Yelena watches as Bucky quietly but furiously whispers to them, making Ava and Bob hang their heads in shame. The three of them pull Walker up, whose smile immediately fades when he sees Bucky.

She starts to giggle as Bucky grabs Walker's arm with his metal hand, squeezing it as he talks rapidly under his breath and pulls him towards the elevator. All Walker can do is nod and try to squirm out of Bucky's grip.

The sixth level is dedicated entirely to Ryan's work. Bucky thinks either she's filthy rich or the Copernicus of art; there’s no other reason the museum would reopen after closing for VIPs only. 

Her art is interesting, he’ll give her that; the exhibit is titled “An Exploration of Memory”. Each sectioned-off part of this floor tells a different part of a story. 

Yelena gravitates towards a room with a big screen, showing a home video of a baby girl. Walker and Ava move further along the hallways, past traditional paintings, photos, and conversation transcripts. Bob hangs back near the entrance as Bucky enters another room with sculptures of various facial expressions.

“Okay guys, comms check,” Bucky mutters as they separate.

“All good.” (Ava.)

“Loud and clear, Bucky.” (Bucky rolls his eyes.)

There’s a long pause. Then: “—to turn it on. Can you—oh! It buzzed. Can you guys hear me?”

“Yeah, Bob.”

“And mine are working too.” (Yelena.)

“Okay, everyone try to stay off comms unless it’s important.”

“HEY ARE YOU GUYS DOING THE MISSION?” Everyone lets out groans of pain as Alexei yells like he’s using a loudspeaker in their ears.

“I CAN COME BACK NOW.”

“NO! No, Alexei, we’re just testing,” Bucky says quickly. Everyone agrees. “We’ll call you when we need you. And lower your voice, for the love of God.”

“OH, OKAY MR. SOLDIER. I MEAN BUCKY, SORRY. I AM DOING SHOPPING ON FIVE AVENUE, YOU CALL ME ANYTIME.”

“Alright, okay, bye Alexei!” Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, what do you guys think about code names?” Bob asks.

“We don’t need code names,” Walker replies, as if he’s offended by the idea.

“Walker’s just mad because he knows he’ll get a really embarrassing one,” Ava says slyly.

“Guys, stay off the comms.” Everyone ignores Bucky.

“Ava, do you want to be Ghost, or something else?”

“Oooh, how about Spectre?”

“Oh, that’s so badass.”

“Yelena, you should be Tarantula.”

“Yesss!” she says enthusiastically. “Wait, what would Bob be?”

“I was actually thinking, um, Striker. Like in soccer, the goalscorer.”

“Striker sounds so cool.”

“Hey Spectre, what should we call Mr. John Walker?”

“Good question, Tarantula.”

“How about ‘Asshole’?” Bucky chimes in. The kids all laugh.

“Bucky, what the hell, man?”

“Captain Asshole,” Bob manages to get out, before he dies laughing.

“I am NOT Captain Asshole,” Walker mumbles to himself.

“Bucky’s code name can be Ringleader.”

“Yeah, cause this team is like a circus.” 

The kids gasp in indignation, and loudly declare he’s wrong. Bucky can barely get a word in to defend himself before:

“Guys, I have eyes on her.”

Bucky shushes the others. “What was that, Walker?”

“I have eyes on her, she’s a few feet away from me.”

“What section? Yelena, or Bob, maybe go over there, try to start a conversation—”

“I’m going in.”

“What? Walker, no—”

Ignoring Bucky, Walker strides over to Radhika, popping the collar of his leather jacket and pushing errant strands of hair out of his eyes. He leans against the wall next to her. “Hey,” he says smugly.

Somewhere, Yelena audibly gags.

Radhika turns to face him. “Hi.” She looks like she’s confused why he’s talking to her, but smiles nonetheless. 

Her eyes are a different story, though. Walker falters under the intensity of her gaze, almost daring him to say something misogynistic, but pushes on.

“Your, uh, your art is really good.”

She smirks. “Nice opening line.”

“I’ve got more, you wanna hear?”

“Not really.” She gives him another fake smile, then turns and walks away.

Undaunted, Walker follows her. “Hey girl, are you a painting on the Guggenheim’s sixth floor? Because you look like a masterpiece.”

“Wow, that’s…idiotic. But better than the first one, I’ll give you that.” She glances back at him, and he swears he can see little red sparks when the fluorescent lights cast a glare on her eyes. Jesus.

“Hey, I’m all about self-improvement.” Radhika laughs good-naturedly, then turns the corner.

“So, which one’s your favorite piece?”

(Meanwhile…

Ringleader: “Does anyone have eyes on Walker?”

Striker: “I can see him. He’s following her up to Annex Level 7. Hey, does anyone else think he’s flirting with Radhika?” 

*general mumble of assent*

Spectre: I’m going to tail them. Hopefully they don’t do anything repulsive when I’m up there.”)

Radhika pretends to laugh at another one of Walker’s terrible jokes as they pass the elevator, then grabs his hand and pulls him through a random door on the right. “John, you’re such a charmer.”

“Oh, wow, that was fast—wait, when did I tell you my—” Radhika waves her hand, and the door slams shut behind him. A steel table in the center of this expansive storage room levitates off the ground, and pins Walker against the door before he can get near her.

Walker squirms and struggles to break free as the metals in the door and the table bond together, effectively trapping him.

Out of breath, Walker tilts away from Radhika as she lifts up to make eye contact with him. 

“Now,” she says, all the politeness drained from her voice. “I want you to answer me honestly, John. Why are you here?”

“You…you psycho bitch,” Walker pants. “I just wanted your number. Why—what are you—”

“That’s not true,” Radhika snaps. “Why are you wearing an earpiece, then? And why do you have a gun inside your jacket?” She curls her fingers inwards, only slightly, and Walker groans as the table constricts further around him.

“Alright! Alright,” he gets out. “Relax, why don’t ya? First,” blowing the hair out of his face again as he looks up to her, “how’d you know all that?”

“Technically, seeing as I’m not the one pinned behind a table, I really don’t have to tell you anything. But I could literally see both of those things when you walked up to me. And I know your name because, not even mentioning that stupid fucking news cycle for your 10 minutes of Captain America fame, you’re a goddamn Avenger.”

Walker feels a surge of anger towards her, and wriggles furiously.

“Your turn. Why are you here?”

He grits his teeth, then takes as deep a breath he can to calm down.

“We want—we wanted,” he corrects, “to recruit you. For the Thunderbolts.” He forces himself to look at her.

Radhika is stunned. She opens her mouth to say something, when all of a sudden, she winces at some faint high-pitched droning noise. “God, not now,” she whimpers. 

She covers both ears, pressing her hands hard against her head and curling inwards. Walker can barely hear the noise, and it’s not getting any louder, so he just watches on in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” she says as she tries to block out the noise. 

Sorry for what?

Walker finds out the hard way. The fluorescent lights in the storage room are going nuts, surging with energy. Radhika’s body starts radiating heat and red sparks, and he can see her skin start to burn. At the same time, Walker gasps for air as the metal gets impossibly tight. Both of them scream out in pain; Walker thinks he might die.

Thankfully, reinforcements arrive. 

Yelena drops down from the vent, landing on Radhika’s shoulders and causing the two of them to fall backwards. Bucky drops in next and tries to peel the table off Walker as Yelena strangles Radhika with her legs. Walker also feels a tingling sensation at the front of his stomach, pushing the metal from the inside.

“What took you guys so long?” Walker spits out.

Radhika claws at Yelena’s legs and thrashes around on the floor. Sparks shoot out from her hands. Yelena growls at her. “LET HIM GO!” she shouts, kicking Radhika’s chest with her heel.

Finally, the table lifts away from Walker’s body. As he slumps to the ground, Ava phases through the door, and Radhika throws the table at Yelena’s face. 

Yelens narrowly misses by relinquishing her grasp on Radhika’s neck, rolling to the side just in time. She jumps to her feet and runs to the door, standing in front of Bucky and Ava carrying Walker on their shoulders.

Radhika slowly stands, rubbing her throat and glaring at the Thunderbolts. Red splotches where bruises will be the next day compliment her burnt skin. “So,” she rasps, “you guys want to recruit me?”

“Well, we did,” retorts Ava angrily, “before you pinned our teammate to the wall with a table.” 

Radhika just flexes her fingers, sending sparks flying. “I work better alone.” Her voice cracks.

“Could’ve just said that, then,” Bucky says sarcastically.

The door opens behind them. “Let’s go!” Bob yells. Everyone runs out the door and to the ledge of the sixth level. 

Radhika breathes a sigh of relief and leans against the wall, sliding down as she almost passes out with exhaustion.

Bob had thrown a small pod Yelena nicked from the car on the very bottom floor, where it expanded into a mattress. Each of them take turns jumping to safety.

“I called Alexei and told him to bring the car around, so we can just leave now,” Bob says to Bucky as he pushes Walker off the ledge. Walker falls on his back and lets out an annoyed “Ow.”

“But he doesn’t have the—”

“I gave the keys to him before he left.”

Bucky smiles a little bit and claps him on the back. “Good thinking, kid.”

Bob practically beams.

“HELLO?! CAN WE SAVE THE HEART TO HEART FOR LATER?” Walker calls out angrily, wobbling as he gets to his feet.

Everyone files into the car and shuts the door with a slam as Alexei drives them away.

“Are you alright?” Yelena says anxiously, rubbing Walker’s shoulder in the backseat.

“Pretty much, yeah, I’m—OW! What was that for?” (She punched him in the shoulder.)

“We’re all telling you, no, don’t go by yourself, Walker, let someone else approach her first. But nooo, James Dean had to flirt with her. You stupid fucking—”

“Are you saying that was my fault?”

“Please, no fighting in back,” Alexei calls. 

“Why didn’t you let Bob go? You have such terrible people skills.” Ava turns to face them, hugging the seat.

“What? That’s not true! It would have worked if—”

“ —If she was a different person, maybe,” Bob chimes in. “You did remember we kinda labeled her as dangerous, right?”

“Are you implying I can’t handle it?” Walker glares at Bob.

“Well…” Walker’s jaw drops, super offended.

“And anyway,” Yelena cuts in, “Bucky said you shouldn’t go. You can’t just go rogue on us, even if it’s something this small.”

“I wasn’t going rogue, it’s not that big of a deal—”

“It IS a big deal,” Ava counters, her voice raising, “because this is literally the easiest mission ever and you fucked it up for the rest of us!”

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Walker yells. “YELENA WAS THE ONE WHO TRIED TO STRANGLE HER!”

“Keep it down back there!” Bucky yells from the front.

“I’m SORRY for SAVING YOUR LIFE!” Yelena says angrily, shoving him into the side of the car.

Walker looks back at her, almost shocked by the audacity. “Did you just shove me?”

“Yes,” she says, “Captain ASSHOLE.”

Walker lets out a roar and jumps on top of her. There’s kicking and pulling hair and elbowing and making bloody wounds worse, and it’s not until Alexei swerves and pulls over that they break apart.

“Everyone out of the car.” Bucky’s voice is dangerously low, and the kids scramble out, single file, and stand in a row.

Bucky steps out, as does Alexei, and stands with his arms crossed in front of his team, optically scanning them with his Terminator vision—at least, that’s what it looks like.

“Walker.” Captain Asshole looks up, bleeding from his lip, hair sticking up like he was electrocuted. “What happened?”

He looks back at the others, confused. “You mean, like…why me and Yelena were—”

“No, dumbass, what happened with Radhika,” Bucky says impatiently. “Your comms link went out the second you got in that closet, so what happened?”

“Oh—ohh. Um, she shut the door and threw the table at me with her powers,” he starts, counting on his fingers, “and she asked me what I was doing there.

“Then I told her. You know, that we wanted to recruit her. And before she could say anything, this high pitched noise that sounded like a dog whistle started hurting her head, and her skin started burning. 

“I think she couldn’t control her powers after that because the table started squeezing me tighter, and she, like, apologized for it. Which was nice, I guess. She seems okay.” Bob and Ava share a knowing look.

“And then you guys showed up.”

“You're welcome for that, by the way,” Yelena adds, glaring at him.

“Okay, can you give me a fucking break?”

“Alright,” Bucky barks. “Alright.”

The team waits for him to say something else, to admonish them for fighting, to yell at them for messing up the mission. Anything.

But Bucky feels stuck. He wants to say so many things, wants to tell them how he feels, but the thought of doing it out loud makes him start to panic. 

He takes a deep breath to stabilize himself, then tries to start. “Look—”

Nothing comes out. They all stare at him. He tries again: “I—”

“It’s not your fault, Walker.” Alexei steps forward, oddly serious. “Nobody’s fault. We are all very good with the fighting and the shooting, we all know that. But this, it's a different beast. 

“In Russia, we have a saying. The, uh,” he says, eyes squeezing shut, snapping rapidly. “Ugh. Yelena, what is хищник?”

“Predator.”

“Yes.” He claps. “The saying is ‘the smart predator kills in many ways.’ Radhika is just new prey, so we change how we fight. With strawberry picked words, (Ava suppresses a laugh) and being nice to her. Maybe she has noise sensitiveness, so we figure out how to help her.

“But most of all—Bucky will agree—we must be a team. That means,” he looks pointedly at Walker, “we follow the plan, we listen to reason, and no fighting. I’m talking to you too, Lena.” Yelena scowls and crosses her arms.

“It’s also very distracting,” Alexei continues, “fighting and driving. I mean—if I was not a limo driver, I would have crashed the car, to be sure.” Everyone laughs at that, even Bucky.

“Do we think we can do that?” One by one, they nod yes. “Okay.” He smiles. “Okay, get in the car.” 

As they get back in, Bucky claps Alexei on the back. “Thank you,” he says quietly, and gives him a nod.

Alexei leans towards him. “They’re my kids, too,” he says softly. Then he straightens and goes around the front. “No situation!”

Bucky chuckles, then gets in the car. “Alright, let’s get home before they lock the doors on us,” he says as they pull away from the curb. “And someone order some pizzas, I’m fucking starving.”

Chapter Text

8:42 AM. On a Wednesday in October.

Bucky correctly assumed that if food was provided, the Thunderbolts would have an easier time paying attention to him.

That’s why, instead of a formal briefing in one of the many conference rooms in the Avengers Tower (you know, like a real team), he’ll just tell them over breakfast.

To increase the likelihood of everyone showing up this early in the morning, he sent the group chat a screenshot of a lengthy order from the pancake place they all like. 

One by one, like flies to syrup, they all came down.

Bob comes down first, having been awake the longest; he likes reading on the balcony after sunrise.

As he makes a big vat of coffee, and tea for himself and Ava, the Russians rush in, highly motivated by sugar.

Before they can take the styrofoam boxes out from the bags, Bucky pushes their hands away, telling them to wait for the others. Yelena grumbles about people sleeping in on weekdays while Alexei, ever the adaptive one of the group, polishes off his bag of Nerds clusters from the car to stave off his hunger.

About ten minutes later, Ava stumbles in, blinking herself awake, just as Yelena storms off. She mumbles a good morning to the others and takes a big gulp of now-cold English Breakfast. Wrinkling her nose, she puts the mug in Bob’s hand and picks up her cup of masala chai.

Finally, the stragglers of the group come down, bickering non-stop as they do.

“—even any reason you brought me down this early?” Walker is saying, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles.

“If you open your eyes for once, yeah. Breakfast is ready.”

Walker finally sees the heaps of food on the kitchen island, and breaks into a wide grin.

“Pancake Wednesday, yay!” Bob cheers, waving his spoon around.

“Yay,” Yelena repeats dryly. “Now can we please eat?”

Everyone looks over to their fearless leader. He decides to take a big drag of coffee first, wiping his upper lip. Finally, he gives them the go-ahead with a small nod.

Sometimes Bucky likes how his team is different than most. He likes a regular breakfast like this, even if Alexei lets out giant burps that gross out the entire table, and Ava keeps arguing with Walker and Yelena over whether chicken and waffles is a breakfast food, and Bob spills an entire cup of syrup over the island. 

He likes all this because Yelena and Walker are, for once, on the same page, and Ava fills up Bucky’s coffee mug without him asking, and everyone helps Bob clean up without getting mad.

They feel like a family, albeit a really shitty family. Like it or not, these guys are kind of the only family he has left (not counting Sam, who's…family, but not in the same way). And they're kind of growing on him. Like really endearing mold.

(Also, Bucky is definitely not thinking too hard about that other thing with Sam.)

Once he's finished his plate of French toast, covered liberally with fruit and whipped cream, Bucky decides to start telling his team about their next mission. Technically, it's the same mission as before, but this group does well with frequent reminders.

First, to get their attention, he clangs his fork against his prescription bottle-shaped mug like he's giving a speech at a wedding. Once everyone looks over, he unconsciously links his fingers together in a let’s-talk-business pose.

“Uh oh,” Bob says in a comically deep voice, and everyone bursts out laughing. Bucky’s confused, until Ava takes out her phone and takes a point-five picture of him with a prominent whipped cream mustache, eyebrows still creased together, forehead big as a moon.

Wiping the whipped cream off and disposing of it properly (eating it), he tries to get down to business. “You better not have sent that to the group chat,” he murmurs to Ava first.

“Too late,” she whispers back with a barely contained smile.

Bucky does one of his long blinks, brushing it off, and takes a deep breath. “Ok, so, guys.

“I had to talk with higher ups last weekend, and they really want us to focus on the whole new recruit thing. So, for some reason, we have to try again with Radhika.”

“But she tried to kill Walker!” Yelena blurts out, waving her fork menacingly.

“Well, no, she didn’t,” Walker says, smiling sheepishly as he pulls Yelena’s fork hand down to the table. “No, she was just interrogating me, it’s not her fault I almost died. I mean, of all the people who’ve had me tied up and bleeding,” he gives an awkward laugh, “she was definitely the nicest.”

“Dude, stand up,” says Bob, shaking his head. Walker’s smile drops, a little embarrassed.

“Why does he needs to stand up? He can sit and talk.” Ava and Bob both laugh.

“You see, Alexei,” Ava explains, smirking, “we think Walker has another mission on his mind.”

They can see the exact moment Alexei’s lightbulb turns on. “Ahhhhhh. He wants to get lucky, yes?” He raises his eyebrows, smiling playfully at Walker.

“What? No, ew! Why would you think that? I just think we shouldn’t dismiss her as some sort of menace to society.” Walker’s tone of voice would be convincing enough if not for the flaming red spreading over his face.

“I think even a menace to society is too good for you,” Yelena says casually. She gets a glare thrown her way from the tomato on her left.

“Guys, I don’t like her. Like, at all.”

“Then why are you blushing?” Bucky questions, leaning back in his chair and enjoying seeing Walker sweat.

“I’m just—it’s hot in here, that’s all,” he mumbles, having a literal red neck.

“What was that?” Yelena cups her ear mockingly. “You think she’s hot?”

“Yelena, I swear to God—”

“Look, Walker,” Bucky interrupts, needing to move on, “whatever you're feeling about Radhika—which is nothing, I got that already—” he addresses Walker’s open mouth, “—nobody should start dating her until she’s fully on our team. I’d say two weeks. What do you think?” he says quieter, turning to Alexei.

“Look. Walker.” Alexei leans towards him. “I get it. Radhika is strong, independent woman. Smarter than you, more powerful than you. Like my Melina, God rest her soul, Yelena’s mother. She was…” Alexei shakes his head, smiling at nothing. “…so hot.” The kids make a face, while Bucky just sighs.

“But,” he says, pointing at Walker, who seems to be extremely uncomfortable with having this conversation in front of everyone, “we did not date. We were working. We slept together a couple times, but we did not date because our job came first. You understand?” Alexei’s eyes bore into him, waiting for an answer. “Are you getting my gist?”

“Yeah. Now, can we please stop talking about this?”

Bucky’s way more interested in making fun of Walker’s crush on Radhika, but he also promised he’d call Sam back by yesterday, and it's been over a week since he made that promise, so this not-a-meeting should probably get wrapped up soon before he gets into any serious trouble.

“Guys, let’s leave Walker alone,” he calls out. “For the time being,” he says under his breath to Yelena and Ava, who nod seriously.

“Technically, we’re not allowed to go to Radhika’s house unless we ‘perceive her as a threat’,” he uses air quotes, “even though that would make things so much easier. So we have to wait for every time she’s expected to appear in public.

“She was invited to this costume gala Halloween night, so we’re going to go there and try to convince her to join us again. And I suggest someone different this time approach her first,” Bucky adds, glancing at Walker, who frowns but says nothing.

“Where are we going?” Bob asks.

“Uh, the Plaza.” Bob lets out a low whistle.

“What's the Plaza?” Ava asks.

“This really old hotel that only the super rich go to,” Bucky explains.

“So Radhika is one of these super rich people, then.” (Walker)

“Easy, there, gold digger.”

“Shut up, Yelena.”

Bucky pulls out his phone and opens Radhika’s file. “Let’s see,” he mumbles as he scrolls down to “Personal info”. 

After a few seconds of reading (skimming) lazily while leaning back in his chair, he sees something that makes him sit up straight. He leans closer to his phone, thinking he imagined things, then he drops his phone on the table in shock.

Bucky looks like he’s seen a ghost (because he basically has).

“So,” he says quietly, everyone looking at him with concern or alarm, “turns out Radhika isn’t super rich, but she, uh. She comes from old money. The type of people who get invited anyway because of their family. My family.”

“What do you mean, your family?” Yelena finally asks.

“I mean Radhika is related to me.”

Chapter Text

9:21 AM. The same Wednesday in October.

The big truth bomb Bucky dropped is still lingering in the air.

There’s a brief moment of pin-drop silence as everyone absorbs this through their head, and begins to generate an opinion.

Then, like the calm before the storm, the kitchen erupts with conversation.

“How do you even know she’s related to you?”

“—must have her DNA.”

“Is she super old too? Because she looks so—”

“I was talking to Bucky’s fucking grand-daughter the entire time, Jesus fucking—”

“Bucky! You have children? You never say anything about them. What are their names and where—”

“Wait, does that mean you’re rich? Why didn’t you say any—”

“Oh my god, she’s a super soldier slash witch.”

“How the fuck does that—”

“But you’re white!”

“GUYS.”

Everyone quiets down.

“Just—give me a chance to explain, okay?” he pleads. “Okay.

“My family was…well off, in the 1930s.”

“You mean the Great Depression.”

“Yeah, Ava. Sure. Looking back, we were one of those types that had so much money we didn’t know what to do with it. And even after the crash, we were pretty okay. I never went hungry, that’s for sure.”

“Then why’d you join the military?”

“I got drafted. And even if I could have gotten out of it…I felt like I had to.” Bob nods.

“Before I, um, disappeared, my sister Rebecca had twins. Michael Buchanan and Margaret Rose. She mailed me so many pictures, I ran out of places to keep them.” The corners of his mouth lift up at the memory. “By the time I came back to myself, I assumed they all died, so I never reached out.

“But Radhika’s file shows a family tree. And the very first name? Maternal grandmother: Margaret Rose Kennedy. So I guess—”

“Kennedy?! Like, ‘related to JFK’ Kennedy?”

“...I guess so. The Kennedys were old money, and so was Edward, so it makes sense.” Bucky narrows his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“But didn’t you—”

Yelena elbows Walker in the stomach hard under the table and whispers something that sounds a lot like “think about what you're saying”. He realizes something, then stiffens.

“Nevermind.”

Bucky watches Walker for a second, suspicious, then continues. “So you combine my family, the Kennedys, and about 2 other generations of the rich marrying the rich, and you get Radhika. She could be unemployed, in a non-glamorous way, and still get an invite.”

“And she's a professional artist,” Ava muses. “She's fully ‘in that world'.”

“So she's rich and powerful and dangerous,” Yelena says listlessly. “That could be a problem.”

“You really know how to pick them, Walker,” Bob teases. Walker shoves him in response, but Bob continues to laugh, high and giddy.

“Look, I don't think it really matters,” Bucky cuts in, “so let's not tell her right now. Okay?” The others look around, then mumble an agreement.

“Okay, let's get into the details.”

10:06 PM. On a Friday in October.

“Say Halloween!”

The red light flashes as Yelena takes a picture of the gang in their costumes with her digital camera.

Pulling her arm down, she inspects the picture for any closed eyes. Satisfied, she passes around the camera to the others.

They look gooood .

Yelena’s dressed as the Bride from Kill Bill. She spent way too much time on a costume meant for a single night, but she hasn't done Halloween since she can remember; she has to go all out, she just has to. She ordered a cosplay replica of the iconic yellow and black tracksuit, ironed the patches on herself, and couldn’t help but get a real katana, sharpened to a point.

In the picture, Ava, dressed as Trinity, grins behind sunglasses. Ever since she saw the Matrix, part of Walker and Bob’s effort to introduce their teammates to classic American movies, she was effectively in love with Trinity. And not only is her costume pretty damn accurate, the large leather trenchcoat allows her to wear her phasing suit underneath, in addition to various guns and knives.

Next to her and Yelena is Bucky. At first, he was just going to phone it in with a suit and one of those stupid masquerade masks, no matter how much it reminded him of the Winter Soldier. But after the kids conspired against him, he ended up going as the Terminator, which they said “matched his vibe”. At least it means he can wear the clothes he always wears (he’s starting to understand what “matched his vibe” means). He smiles sheepishly in the picture, his sunglasses pushing back his hair.

Walker has his arms around Bob and Bucky, smirking as a blond Han Solo. He thought he was the shit for the first 10 minutes he was walking around, his chest puffed out under his slightly ripped shirt. Then Alexei pointed at him and said “Hey, Chandler the Friend!” and Walker absolutely deflated.

Alexei, who’s painted green with bolts coming out of his head, the craziest he’s ever looked. Yelena joked that he couldn’t name another movie character if his life depended on it, but Alexei argued that Frankenstein was a classic, like himself. She rolled her eyes then, and begrudgingly helped him with the hair and makeup.

Bob, sandwiched between the biggest people in his family, mock squints in the picture, dressed as what he calls “American Alexei”: the Big Lebowski. It’s more fitting for Bob than Alexei, though: a costume nobody would recognize from a late 90s cult classic. Ava thinks that Bob picked it because he forgot about the mission until yesterday, but it helps that Bob’s hair is slightly overgrown, and he somehow had a fake beard on him already.

After a few minutes, Yelena snatches the camera back, promising to send it to them later. They all pile into the elevator (Bucky is silently grateful nobody’s wearing wings) and start walking over to the Plaza.

It’s officially the coolest place they’ve ever been. 

The ballroom of the Plaza is expansive, enough to house a stage, a large bar in the far corner, a handful of tables, and a massive dance floor. Ivory carvings and Roman arches line the sides of the room, and a chandelier hangs in the center of the ceiling. 

Halloween decorations are sparse; except for cobweb-like curtains adorning the walls and strobe lights, you'd think this was just another wedding. 

The DJ on stage starts to play something loud that makes Bucky's ears ache.* He mimes turning on their earpieces so they can hear each other.

Ringleader: “Comms check.”

Striker: “Check!”

Spectre: “Check Republic.”

Tarantula: “Checkoslovakia.”

Captain Asshole: “Check-Fil-A.”

Alexei: “CHECKERS!”

Bucky winces again and makes a mental note to ask Ava to fix Alexei’s earpiece. They separate to different areas of the ballroom, looking for Radhika.

Spectre: “You know, we never did come up with a name for Alexei.”

Alexei: “I PICK! I AM RED GUARDIAN!”

Tarantula: “Dad, it has to be a name that nobody will recognize.”

Alexei: “AHHHH, I SEE. SO NOT SHOSTAKOV.”

Spectre: “That's even worse, that's literally your name!”

Alexei: “WELL SORRY I AM NOT BLESSED WITH THE NICKNAME BRAINS LIKE YOU.”

Striker: “Rasputin!”

Captain Asshole, Spectre: *indistinct approval*

Rasputin: “YESS!!! I AM RASPUTIN!!!”

A group of costumed guests are startled by the six-foot-three Frankenstein yelling to nobody with an aggressive Russian accent, and make a 180 back to their table.

Captain Asshole: “Hey, am I still Captain Asshole?”

*resounding yes*

Captain Asshole: “Great.”

Walker sighs and looks around, hands on his hips. He can hear the band start to play some familiar old song*, somehow giving him more motivation. He navigates through the hordes of drunk elitists with purpose, looking all over the place.

It's a long time until he stills, finally catching a glimpse of Radhika, who just walked in wearing an emerald green silk dress. 

Walker’s seen Atonement enough times with Olivia (and Walker's heart shivers at the memory of his ex-wife) to give her a lot of credit for costume accuracy. Radhika's dress is as arresting as the movie's, and he watches her move through the crowd for a while before remembering why he was there.

Captain Asshole: “I can see her. She’s, uh, near the bar.”

Ringleader: “Ava—”

Spectre: “Codenames!!!”

Ringleader: “Oh, um…”

Spectre: “Spectre.”

Ringleader: “Spectre. You’re closest, can you go over to her?”

Spectre: “Do I have to? Why don’t you just send Striker?”

Ringleader: “Spectre…”

Spectre: *groan* “Fine. I liked you better when we were teasing Captain Asshole.”

Captain Asshole: “Still not a fan of the name.”

Spectre: “Still not a fan of you.”

Ava makes her way over to the bar, far away from the speakers, seeing Radhika as she absentmindedly sips her drink, peoplewatching, eyes lingering on the profile of a certain Star Wars character.

“Looking for someone?” Radhika’s startled by Ava’s sudden presence, and almost loses grip on her vodka and coke. “Can I get a negroni?” Ava says loudly, waving a bartender over.

“Do I know you?” Radhika looks over Ava’s costume, clearly impressed.

“I’m Ava. And, regrettably, a friend of Walker’s,” Ava says. She laughs as Radhika’s face wrinkles slightly.

“You’re the Ghost one, aren’t you? I didn’t recognize you with the costume, which is…really amazing,” she says, gaze drifting back to Ava’s costume.

“Yeah, Yelena did a lot of the heavy lifting for these costumes, she scoured the internet for a good replica.” Ava grins, looking at herself. “And now, we both look super hot.”

Radhika laughs a little. “Who’s Yelena?”

“My best friend,” Ava says matter-of-factly. “She's dressed as the Kill Bill bride. If you think my costume is good,” she leans in, “her bodysuit looks like Uma Thurman herself lent it to her. And she has a real katana.”

Radhika gasps. “Shut up,” she says excitedly. “Can I meet her?”

“Yeah, I'll try to find her—once I get my drink!” she calls out over the counter.

“She’s actually on the Thunderbolts,” Ava adds after a brief pause, trying to segue into why she's here. “The tiny blonde. As opposed to the tall blond, who you’ve met before.”

The other woman hums in confirmation, her smile fading a little. “Does he…” she trails off, communicating the rest with her raised eyebrows.

“Like you? We all think so.” Radhika grimaces. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. Walker may be an egotistical ass, but…” Ava falters. “Well, there’s no ‘but’. He is an egotistical ass, period.”

“Yeah, I got that much from the 5 minutes he was unsuccessfully flirting with me,” Radhika deadpans.

Ava smiles, then picks up her negroni. “He just wants you to be on our team. Like, even though you almost killed him—which,” she takes a sip, “please don't try that again with me—he was still defending you to the others when we got back.”

Radhika’s eyes drift to her drink, as if she was embarrassed, or guilty. “There’s that Captain America false hope,” she says, kind of to herself.

There’s a brief pause; Radhika’s deep in thought, and Ava waits for her to say something. Far away, the music picks up, something with a strong beat*. 

Radhika looks at Ava straight on. “Why do you guys want me on your team so badly?”

“Well, for starters, O.X.E. wants a ‘real superhero’ for our public image,” Ava says, using air quotes. “So they want us to convince you to join willingly.”

Radhika narrows her eyes. “What do you mean, willingly?”

“Well, we kind of have a track record for failing missions,” Ava says without thinking. “If we're unsuccessful, they usually just bring out the big guns and do it themselves.”

Radhika shrinks back, suddenly anxious. That might have been the wrong thing to say.

“But that’s not going to happen,” Ava says, desperately trying to backtrack. “And, I mean, joining us wouldn’t be so bad, right? We’re the good guys!” She smiles unconvincingly. “We may be a bunch of fuck-ups, myself included, but we want to help people, to be real superheroes. And we can—we can help you,” she starts. “With your powers, and stuff." 

Radhika stands up abruptly. “Thanks for the concern,” she says bitterly, “and I really mean it. You seem like nice people. But I’m not interested in being a superhero.”

“But why? Is protecting people weaker than you so bad?” she says, and immediately regrets it. Radhika’s face twists and reflects her irritation.

“It’s not that,” she snaps. “I can…I’ve hurt people before. I can’t guarantee you or I or anyone will be safe from me. Ever.” She gets off the bar stool and starts walking away.

Ava grabs her wrist, making her turn around. She can feel an intense heat through her gloves, can see the unhealed burn marks all over Radhika’s skin, and it worries her. It reminds her of her own skin, stretched past the limit and scarred in some places as a result of her body trying desperately to stay together. 

“We can help you,” she says, pleading with her eyes for Radhika to reconsider.

Radhika uses her other hand to detach Ava’s gently, and Ava can feel sparks of heat falling from her fingertips. “Nobody can.”

As she makes her way through the dance floor, heading to the entrance, she can hear a faint, high-pitched whirring, the tell-tale sign that another episode is coming on. All she wants to do is leave through the second entrance, call a cab and go home before she kills everyone in this room.

She feels someone else grab her hand, and, patience long worn out, she pulls out the dagger concealed within her dress and brings it up to their neck, pressing hard with gritted teeth.

It’s Walker, hyper focused on the sensation of the dagger, sharp and electric against his throat, and the way Radhika’s looking at him with murderous intent, eyes sparkling red. So much for trying to be suave.*

Once she realizes who she’s trying to knife, she pulls away from him, but is still very irritated. “What is it, John?”

Walker’s smiling like he's won something, even though his pulse is a little elevated (from, you know, almost dying at the hands of his kind-of-crush). “Can’t I ask a girl to dance without getting my throat slit?”

“No, you can’t,” Radhika says sarcastically, and she turns to push through the very concentrated crowd.

“Come on,” Walker calls out, following her, grabbing her hand again. “I don’t want to talk about the team, I promise.” When she just pulls him with her, he tries again. “I just want to hang out with you,” he says lamely, running out of steam.

Radhika stops walking. Walker's wondering how the hell a sentence that desperate worked, but she's turning towards him with a question on her lips.

“How are you still holding my hand?” She lifts up their hands, clasping each other.

Walker furrows his brow and smiles, confused. “Uh, like this,” and shifts their hands around so their fingers are entwined.

Radhika squints in confusion and lowers their hands (though, Walker notes, she doesn't let go). “How are you not getting hurt?” she says, almost suspicious.

Walker shrugs. “I'm really strong,” he deadpans. Seeing her guard is down for a brief second, he pulls her to a more empty space on the dance floor.

She lets go of Walker's hand, but only to pick it up with both hands, examining it closely, not noticing she's left very little space between them. “You should have burn marks all over your hand, super soldier or not,” she says as she turns his hand over, rubbing her thumb along the creases of his palm. “God knows I do too.” She tries to hear the high-pitched hum again, but it’s disappeared.

“Is it because of your, uhm, condition?” he ventures, picking both of Radhika's hands up and placing them around his neck. From this angle, he can see reddened patches appearing on her skin, and wrinkled burn marks that’s only just healed, peppering her arms and shoulders like fiery kisses.

Radhika rolls her eyes and leans a little closer, clasping her hands around Walker's neck. I can wait another five minutes, I guess. “I wouldn't call it a condition, but sure. Whatever makes me so…superpowery is also hurting me, like all the time, whether I use it or not. Every few days, whatever's healed goes back to shit.”

Whatever smile he was wearing faded at her explanation. “Sorry,” he offers.

“It's fine. Everyone has to live with something. At least mine isn't my fault.”

Walker raises his eyebrows. “Wow, that was…really smart.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” she says, laughing. Walker finally slides his hands on her waist.

“I actually shouldn't be. You're a Guggenheim artist, so of course you know about all that philosophical shit.”

“You say philosophical, but I’d call it a coping mechanism,” she jokes.

Walker just grins, looking at her a little too affectionately for her comfort; Radhika's smile falters a little in turn. The music swells, and Walker steps side to side absentmindedly, swaying both of them to the music. This is probably the corniest, most Bollywood-movie thing that's ever happened to her.

“Can I ask you something?” he says.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you corner me, in the Guggenheim? I mean, you knew me, so why’d you, like, consider me a threat?” Walker seems hesitant to hear the answer.

“I didn’t consider you a threat,” and Walker brightens, “because you’re definitely not a threat at all.” Radhika internally laughs at how quickly his face changes from relieved to grumpy. “But I thought that, because you guys are superheroes now, you were going to kill me. Cause, like, you know.” She sends red sparks from her fingertips down Walker’s back as an example. “The whole ‘uncontrollable powers’ thing.”

“Well, I thought you were going to kill me a few minutes ago,” Walker says dryly, “so I guess we’re even.”

Radhika gives a half-hearted smile. “I'm really sorry,” she blurts out, suddenly nervous. “For, like, hurting you.” 

Walker's hands flex against her waist. “It’s fine,” he mumbles, looking down at their feet. He shrugs. “No big deal.”

He glances up and catches her staring at his face, hyperfocused on the smallest of details. Both of them divert their eyes.

“You know,” Radhika says quietly, hesitating,  “it's not that I don't want to join. Your team.” She feels Walker stiffen under her arms. “It's…” she searches for the right words. “Complicated. I'm kind of a fuck-up.”

Walker scoffs, finally looking up. “Dude, I'm like the president of the national fuck-up club.”

“Actually, I think I am.”

Walker and Radhika jump apart at Bucky's sudden appearance next to them. He stares at the two of them, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

Walker's blushing because he's kind of sharing an intimate slow dance with Bucky's great-grandniece who he was told not to talk to. Radhika's blushing because of course this is how she's meeting Bucky Barnes.

“Not really leaving room for Jesus there, Walker.”

“Bucky,” Walker says, embarrassed beyond belief. He glanced at Radhika, her face red, then back at Bucky. “We were just…” he cringes as if waiting to get socked in the face, “…dancing.”

“Go back to the table,” Bucky says, his voice dangerously low.

“Look, I—”

A sharp jerk of his head, and Bucky has him speedwalking away, but not before shooting Radhika an apologetic glance.

“I think I should go,” she says hurriedly, and she turns to leave.

Bucky's face loses all of its malice as he turns to look at her. “Hey, wait,” and then she's pushing through the crowd, so he follows her.

Radhika goes over to her table to pick up her coat, which is where she meets another Thunderbolt. Or three.

“Heyyy, Radhika!” Alexei stands up from his chair, cheeks pink from the way-too-many cosmopolitans he’s had tonight, his makeup almost completely wiped clean from his face. “We have not met. Alexei Shostakov,” he says, holding out his hand. Radhika pushes his hand down, but he doesn’t really notice the impolite gesture, smiling like a fool.

“Oh! And my kids, Yelena and Bob.” He turns to point at a tipsy Yelena and a sober but thoroughly amused Bob.

“Radhika! What is up?” Yelena says, waving with a grin. “Hey, look at my sword.” She tries to stand up and take out her katana at the same time, but she just falls down onto the floor. Bob laughs like a maniac as he helps her off the floor.

“Nice katana,” Radhika says, taking her coat from the back of her chair, then turns around and heads towards the doors. Bucky, following her, calls out angrily, “I thought you couldn’t get drunk!”

“EXCEPT VODKA!” Alexei bellows back.

When she's nearing the door, Bucky calls out her name again, reaching out a hand as if to stop her from 10 feet away.

She turns around, flustered as she rushes to put her coat on. “Look, I already told your people, I can't do what you're asking of me.”

“Radhika, I just want you to be okay. We all do.”

“Well, I'm fine,” she snaps, “so you can stop worrying. I pay my bills, I get sunlight and water every day, and I'm perfectly healthy except for my body getting fucking obliterated every few days.”

Bucky looks pained, and his hands flit out from his sides instinctively, as if touching her will help. “We want to protect you,” he says weakly.

Radhika comes closer to him. “Last time I tried to use my powers,” she says in a low voice, “I almost crushed John under a table. I set my apartment building on fire because of them. And every few days, I have an episode, and everything and everyone around me gets broken.” 

She backs away from him, looking furious. “How can I be a superhero if all I do is hurt people?”

Bucky says nothing, he just watches her with the most devastated expression on his face.

“Mr. Barnes, I can't join your Thunderbolts. My answer is no.”

And with that hanging in the air, she turns on her heel and exits the ballroom.

Chapter Text

10:57 PM. The same Friday in October.

Radhika's car ride back is hellish. 

After twenty minutes of feeling nauseous for various reasons, she throws up her vodka and coke all over the back seat.

Apologizing profusely to the cab driver, she then feels a severe episode coming on. She eventually rolls out of the cab to a patch of green near the highway, collapsing on the ground to have a category 5 freak out. 

Several streetlights fall, blocking the road; potholes appear out of nowhere. Cars slam into each other on the highway and make beautifully horrific sounds. The signs overhead, reading off different exits, crumple like paper and fall from their posts, pinning cars to the ground.

The crashes of glass and steel and pavement just spur her on; it’s on the longer end of the spectrum, about 6 minutes of Radhika’s senses being lit on fire. She grits her teeth and screams, a guttural sound being ripped from her throat.

Finally—finally—the ringing stops. Her head is pounding, and she’s panting heavily as she tries to open her eyes. She can smell skin burning, and pulls off her coat. The New York cold soothes her own injuries, helping them fade into the background of “things I can worry about tomorrow”.

Pushing herself up to her feet, Radhika surveys the scene of her crime. Colossal, Avengers-level destruction, she thinks grimly. Maybe I should have said yes.

She moves forward as if to go help, but stops. She can’t get recognized. Instead, she uses her powers—her evil, disgusting powers—to pick up the rubble and pile it on the sides of the highway. The cars get unpinned, unstuck; she senses for any serious injuries and finds none.

Radhika feels so incredibly angry. She watches as people slowly crawl out of their vehicles, bleeding, crying, holding each other with bruised hands. 

She inhales sharply, and makes fists so tight the nails draw blood. She wishes, for the millionth time, she didn’t have to live like this; to hurt people every time she steps out of her house. 

The dark thought flickers through her mind like sand through a sieve; the wish that she didn’t have to live at all. But she convinces herself not to. Not by believing she has any value or reason to live, mind you, but that committing right now in the middle of the expressway would, at best, inconvenience the people on the road, and at worst, kill everyone within a mile with the energy her dead body may produce.

She ends up going home on foot, her whole body aching with every step. It’s about a 90-minute walk, the perfect amount of time to think too much about tonight. Surprisingly, more than the desperate partnership proposals or casual death threats the Thunderbolts lobbed at her, that song is stuck in her head. She hums it as she walks, vaguely remembering some of the lines. It cheers her up marginally.

Se te olvida que hasta puedo hacerte mal si me decido…

Ni siquiera sientas pena por dejarme…

And if she daydreams a little about how differently tonight could have gone, that’s entirely her business.

In that respect, Radhika’s walk home is going better than Walker’s. He doesn’t have the luxury to reminisce on slow dances in the privacy of his own mind, because Bucky keeps bringing it up in front of everyone else. He didn’t know it was humanly possible to be this embarrassed.

“And you know what pisses me off the most?” Bucky is ranting. Even his walk is angry; his feet threaten to break the concrete of the sidewalk, and Walker thinks he heard crackling noise more than once. 

He’s been complaining since they left the Plaza. He started by chastising Yelena and Alexei for getting drunk, then criticising Ava for her poor choice of words, claiming she scared Radhika off. Then he really honed in on Walker, who really doesn’t need any more material for the team to absolutely eviscerate him. But now, the others just walk in silence, heads hung, a little ashamed.

“It’s not that Alexei and Yelena were being irresponsible, or that Ava was telling Radhika that people are going to kill her. Honestly, I feel like the type of team we are, I can give you guys a little bit of grace with that.

“But you,” he says harshly, and Walker doesn’t have to look up to know Bucky’s looking at him, “I told you maybe seven different times this week, ‘please stay away from her’, just for now, until we can get to know her better. I mean, we all thought she hated you, so we— I was worried that you and her might fight, and you might get hurt.” Bucky’s still angry, but Walker can hear the concern bleeding into his tone, which makes him feel much worse.

“I told you to do that for a reason, a reason I thought you understood. But you couldn’t even listen to that. You know,” he grits his teeth, “for the perfect soldier, you have a hell of a hard time following orders.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Walker says quietly, still looking down. Bucky stops walking. Fuck. When he looks up, he flinches. 

Bucky looks heartbroken , like Walker told him “I wish I could take your other arm” or something equally horrible. “Don’t call me that,” he says quietly. “Don’t call me ‘sir’.” He rubs at his face, a nervous tic. “I thought we were…” He trails off, and now it’s his turn to look down at the ground.

The others are staring at each other wide-eyed, definitely misinterpreting that. For once, Walker actually wished one of them would jump in and say something obnoxious, if only to break…whatever’s going on with Bucky.

When he does say something, it’s almost inaudible. “I’m sorry.”

Walker furrows his brow. “For what?”

Bucky looks up, mouth pressed into a thin line. “For being such a shitty leader.”

His team leans closer, almost to verify they heard that properly. When they see Bucky blink rapidly, as if he’s forcing himself not to tear up, Bob loudly proclaims, “Why the fuck would you think that?”

“Bucky, one failed mission doesn’t mean that—”

“Well, actually, we’re coming up on the big 16 with this one.”

“You are the BEST leader, Bucky! Why would you even think—”

“—swear to God, if it’s Valentina putting this shit in your head—”

“—so organized, and you plan everything out—”

“Exactly! And you’re always so open and comforting—”

“—Yelena, you’re being way too generous.”

“—maybe be helpful instead of being snarky all the time—”

“Hey, I love the guy as much as you lot do, but he’s a stone wall—”

“—except for right now—”

“In Russia, our military leaders are abusive and manipulative, so the bar is very low.”

“DAD!”

“WHAT? I AM TRYING TO HELP!”

They crowd around Bucky, bombarding him with words of comfort that definitely would fall flat on a regular person, and getting sidetracked by arguing amongst themselves. But they vehemently disagree with him; that much is clear.

It makes him feel better for the moment, if not forever. “Alright, alright, you guys can cool your jets,” he says gruffly. But they can hear that subtle hint of fondness they’ve come to recognize over the past few months, so they quiet down, very satisfied with their work.

“Sorry for, uh, almost breaking down on you guys,” Bucky says, letting out a dry laugh. “I think, um.” He swallows, pausing.

He wishes Sam was here. Usually, the guy can take one look at Bucky and figure out exactly what's wrong with him; there would be no reason to open up to the team. Then again, if Sam were here, he'd probably tell Bucky to quit fucking around and making everyone worry about him. He rolls his eyes at the Sam-shaped voice in his head and presses on.

“It bothers me. That I can’t get us to do anything right. That I can’t be who I need to be for you guys.” He’s speaking very slowly, like he’s dragging the truth from the very center of his brain to his mouth.

“And usually we’re just doing stupid stuff. But with Radhika…” he sighs. “I just want to do right by her. And after what she told me, I just got all antsy.”

“What did she say?” Ava asks, wary.

Bucky tells them about Radhika’s impromptu monologue about the pain that surrounds her life. “I’m worried about her. And especially since O.X.E wants to use her so badly. They might go around us and…” His jaw flexes. “I don’t want them to get to her first,” he says firmly.

Walker puts his arm around Bucky’s shoulder, looking right at him earnestly. “We’re not going to let that happen.” They all nod.

Bucky looks around at his team. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Thanks,” he murmurs, and he hopes they can hear everything else he’s pouring into that one word.

“Alright,” he says, exhaling, shrugging Walker’s arm off, “that’s enough emotion for one day. As you were,” he jokes. They continue to walk back home. Bucky feels lighter, like a bottle of Advil just kicked in at the perfect time.

Everyone feels better—except for maybe Walker. Bob, smug little shit that he is, asks Bucky for details on what exactly Radhika was doing before he interrupted the two of them. The natural balance has been restored; Walker fights for his life as everyone, even Alexei, makes fun of him in increasingly creative ways.

“You know,” Bucky says in the elevator, “I’m not even mad that you’re… courting her,” he says reluctantly, and Bob fails to stifle a laugh, “as disgusted as I am that my niece seems even remotely interested in you. Just…don’t get any ideas,” he says lowly, leaning over to Walker.

“I don’t have any ideas, you guys are just making something out of nothing.”

“I actually think it’s scientifically impossible,” Ava is saying, leaning against the wall with her arms folded. “She seems so…normal. She must be like, losersexual or something.” Yelena giggles at that.

Walker scoffs. “I think you guys are forgetting I was literally happily married for almost ten years. And I was dating Olivia for way longer than that. That’s not loser behavior.”

“Yeah, but that was forever ago,” Yelena adds. “You were probably better looking back then.”

“Not to mention, personality,” Alexei says as the elevator stops and the doors slide open. “You are, um, a sourpussy now, Walker.”

“A sourpussy who wants pussy,” Bob blurts out, and the whole elevator erupts with laughter. Walker just rolls his eyes.

“Well, the joke’s on you guys,” he says, strutting out into the foyer, “because she said she actually likes me. Right, Ava?”

Ava stares at him like he’s crazy. “When did she say that ?”

“Didn’t you say…She didn’t tell you that?” Walker’s smirk falters.

“No, she didn’t,” she replies, drawing her words out like he’s slow. “But it’s kind of obvious. I mean, why would she willingly dance with you if she wasn’t attracted to you? Unless she was trying to kill you.”

“Well, she did pull a knife on me, but—”

“She can fight?” Yelena interrupts, eyes lighting up. “Where did her knife come from? A leg holster? The folds of her dress?” She gasps. “Did she make it with her powers?”

“What—her dress, I think?” Walker’s very confused by the level of interest Yelena is showing.

“Wow,” she says, in awe. “Her dress didn’t even have that much coverage. I guess that’s why it was so flowy, and I did notice the fabric looked like it was wrapped around her, so my God, maybe there was a pocket in her dress!”

Yelena continues to gush about Radhika’s dress and its weapon concealing capabilities as Ava steers her towards their bedrooms, nodding absently. She mouths “Vodka” at Walker as they leave; he nods to say that tracks.

“God, I’m beat,” Bucky says, stretching his back.

“And I feel sick,” Alexei groans, wandering over to the living room.

“Duh, dude, you finished an entire bowl of candy,” Bob says, following him there. Alexei violently falls onto the sofa, clutching his stomach. “And not just the bowl at our table, the giant one everyone takes from before they leave,” he adds.

Alexei turns green; actually green, since all his makeup wiped off. Bob’s eyes grow wide, and he rushes to grab a trash can. Walker, in turn, heads to the kitchen to get Alexei’s water bottle from the fridge, one of the many New Avengers bootleg merch ones he got from Etsy.

As Alexei pukes his heart out, Bob gently peels off his wig and unsticks the neck bolts, throwing it in the trash can. He pulls off his own beard too, wincing at the pinched feeling it brings.

Walker and Bucky cautiously approach the sofa, wrinkling their noses at the smell. Bob holds his hand out without turning around, and Walker passes him the water bottle. Bob presses it to Alexei’s forehead, hearing his patient sigh in relief as he flops back onto the couch, color back to his typical salmony pink.

Bob coaxes Alexei to sit up, pulling his shoulder and handing him the water bottle. Bucky procures little red-blue pills from thin air and places them in Alexei’s outstretched palm. Alexei slaps his mouth and swigs from the bottle, cringing at the taste in his mouth. 

“I think I go to sleep here now,” he mumbles, eyelids drooping. Wriggling around on the sofa, he finally gets comfortable and slumps more into the cushions. Bob nods and stands up, watching over as Alexei quickly starts snoring, loud and abrasive.

“I think that trash can smell is getting to my head,” Bucky mutters. He pinches the bridge of his nose, walking to his room. “Night, guys.”

“Night,” they both respond.

Walker punches Bob in the shoulder gently. “Look at you, getting into action,” he teases, a hint of pride in his tone.

Bob smiles involuntarily, a sweet and embarrassing thing. Then it sharpens a little. “Getting more action than you,” he says.

Walker frowns immediately. “Dude. What is the matter with you?”

“Nothing's the matter,” Bob laughs as they make their way to their rooms. “I just find it funny that you like Radhika so much.”

“It’s not that much,” Walker mumbles. “And-and anyway, why is it so funny?”

Bob leans in the doorway, arms crossed. “Dude. You danced with her. Like fucking Darcy in P and P.”

Walker squints. “Like you’re British,” Bob elaborates, and Walker’s confusion clears. “That’s really romantic, like—weirdly romantic. Especially coming from you.”

Walker throws up his hands in disbelief. “Okay, how come nobody thinks I can be romantic? Apart from Alexei and Yelena’s mom, which shouldn’t count, really, and maybe Bucky and Sam, I’m the only one of us that’s had a long-term relationship.

“And,” he says, jerking his head out, gesturing wildly, “it fucking worked. She likes me now. Even Ava admitted it, and she’d rather see me mope around like a puppy than make me feel even a little bit confident in myself.”

“But you guys just met,” Bob counters. He starts to count on his fingers. “You’ve met her twice, hung out with her for maybe half an hour max, and both times she almost killed you. That last bit doesn’t sound like she likes you so much.”

“She almost tried to kill me , ” Walker stresses.

Bob laughs, shaking his head. “Walker, you’re such a goner.”

“I’m not a goner, I just—”

“No, you should just admit it. You’re, like, so in love with this girl,” he teases. 

“No, I’m not!” Walker says loudly, turning pink.

“I’ll have you know, Radhika,” Bob says, doing an impression of his friend, “I was the government appointed Captain America, and also, I’m an Avenger now, and my serum makes me so strong and muscular—”

“Shut up, Bob!” Walker shouts.

“HEY!” They both stop talking and whip around to the source of the noise, the door at the end of the hallway. “DON’T MAKE ME COME OUT THERE!” Bucky says sternly, his threat muffled but no less unclear.

The boys both rush into their rooms, closing the door with a slam.

Before Walker collapses onto his bed, just about ready to pass out, he decides to get the last word in.

Me: I’m not in love with her

Pressing send, he plugs in his phone after several bleary-eyed attempts and rolls over, not even changing out of his costume.

Ping.

Bobert: yeah you are

Chapter Text

3:07 AM. On a Sunday in November.

The Thunderbolts are not known for their healthy sleep schedules. At any given hour, there’s a sizeable chance that at least one of them is awake, whether it’s from old habits, or nightmares, or being hungry.

This morning, though, Yelena is awake for a different reason. She’s all suited up, down to her shock bracelets and batons, and wriggling through the air vent connecting her room to Ava’s.

Quietly pushing on the vent’s grill, she lowers herself and drops down onto the floor, completely soundless. Ava’s still fast asleep, snoring a little as her body flickers through phases.

Yelena reaches out, tentatively shaking Ava’s shoulder. “Ava,” she whispers.

Ava responds by continuing to snore.

“Ava, wake up,” Yelena stage whispers, shaking her shoulder more vigorously. After another 20 seconds of this, Yelena, impatient, smacks her arm. Hard.

Ava wakes up mid-snore, immediately sitting up straight and pulling Yelena into a headlock. Yelena frantically taps Ava’s arm and shouts her name hoarsely.

“Yelena?” Ava says sleepily, loosening her grip as she fully wakes up. “What time is it?”

“3:15, maybe,” Yelena says, massaging her throat. “Jesus, remind me to never wake you up again,” she mutters.

“3:15? In the morning?” Ava says, outraged. She sweeps her legs out anyways, getting to her feet. “You want to tell me what’s so important we have to leave before the bloody moon’s even gone down?”

Yelena holds up her phone. The top notification reads LOCATION DETECTED. 19.3 KM AWAY. “Your tracker is working.”

“Oh shit, that’s today, isn’t it.” Ava turns towards her closet, starting to pull out her suit when she pauses. “I told you we leave at 5:30, not 3:30,” she says, only mildly irritated.

Yelena shrugs. “Oops. We could wait another two hours, if you want.”

“No, I’m already awake,” Ava grumbles, pulling out her stealth phasing suit; as opposed to her casual suit or training suit or combat suit or heavy combat suit or prototype space suit (wasting Valentina’s money is the team’s favorite pastime).

Yelena heads to the kitchen to fix them both breakfast while Ava suits up. Sitting at the island, they eat their cereal in silence.

“Do you have a plan, Ava?” Yelena eventually says, mouth full of Lucky Charms. “I mean,” she swallows, “when we show up to Radhika’s house this early in the morning, I don’t think she will be too happy to see us.”

“Speak for yourself, she liked me!” Ava says. “And she’ll like you too,” she adds, more gently. “When I mentioned your Kill Bill costume, her eyes practically lit up. Like, regular-lit-up, not magic-lit-up.”

Yelena grins. “Okay, so we have conversation starter. But, if you’re right, and she doesn’t kill us immediately, where do we go from there?”

“I just want to get to know her better. Like, how’d she get her powers, what she’s capable of. But also,” she takes a pause for a bite of Frosted Flakes, “what she’s really like, you know? Her personality, her family, any unresolved issues. And if we know what type of person she is—”

“—We’ll know how to convince her to join us,” Yelena finishes.

Ava nods. “And then all that stuff Bucky said about O.X.E going after her won’t happen.”

“Okay, pretty solid plan,” Yelena says, smiling earnestly.

“Pretty solid? Yelena, you’re so negative.”

“Oh, I’m the one who is negative,” Yelena retorts, pretending to be mad. “I’m not the one who told Bucky any haircut he picks will be better than the one he has now.”

Ava just smirks. “If anything, that’s a compliment.”

“What if he shows up tomorrow with a shaved head? Or god forbid, a mullet.” Both girls shudder at the mental image. “I’m holding you accountable for that,” Yelena says, pointing her spoon at Ava.

“Whatever,” Ava says breezily, finishing her cereal.

The walk to Radhika's house is long, nearly four hours, but neither of them mind. Unlike training, or the runs around Manhattan that Walker nags them into doing with him occasionally, walking leisurely in the city is almost peaceful. As peaceful as New York can get.

Yelena likes walking in general; it's the perfect opportunity to peoplewatch. Occasionally, she'll break the silence between her and Ava to discretely point out a horrendous outfit, or guess the language the couple next to them are yelling in.

Walking relaxes Ava. After a lifetime of being stuck, being trapped against her will, navigating the city is a breath of fresh air—literally. And when they make their way to the Bronx, the buildings get shorter, and you can see more trees. It's comforting, in a way.

They cross two highways, to the chagrin of many car and truck drivers, and walk across a bridge to get to a little peninsula east of Pelham Bay Park. The sun has finally risen, and shines directly into their eyes as they move through the park.

“Fucking sun,” Ava mutters as she pulls out her Trinity sunglasses. “What time is it?”

Yelena, sunglasses already adorned, checks her phone. “7:45. We should turn left now, by the way.”

Ava rolls her eyes and follows Yelena into the thick forest, phasing through the knee-high fence after Yelena gracefully climbs over.

Yelena hums, listening to the birds chirping faintly, flying high above them. “I still think we should have brought him,” she says eventually.

Sighing, Ava stops walking. “Look, Yelena, I already explained—”

“I know what you think already, but I think you're wrong.” Yelena spins around, a little mad. “I understand—I definitely understand not bringing my dad, or Walker, or even Bucky. But Bob is so likeable. He's practically our team mascot!” 

“And what if we're wrong, and Radhika is actually dangerous? What's going to happen to Bob if—”

“So we protect him!” she shouts, exasperated. “That’s what we always do!”

“She's never even met him before!”

Yelena opens her mouth as if to dispute this, then comes up with nothing. “So we introduce him!” she says finally.

“I didn't even want to bring you !” Ava shouts in frustration.

The silence after that is tense, punctuated only by the bird calls and the wind brushing through the trees.

“I—” Ava curses under her breath that she never thinks before she speaks. “I wanted to go alone, so she wouldn't feel ambushed. Then I figured I'd bring one other person, in case I grossly misunderstood her and she tried to kill me.” 

She looks over at Yelena, who's glaring at her, her arms crossed. Ava could laugh: with her fluffy hair and fierce pout, she looks like an angry little toddler.

“I would have brought Bob. You're right, he's very personable. If anyone could convince Radhika to join, it would be him.” Yelena's glare softens. 

“But bloody hell, the kid can be so—so scared at times. Our first few weeks together, he'd shrink at the sight of me and Walker. He only recently started talking to Bucky. And remember the first time you brought Kate over? He couldn't look her in the eyes.”

“But they're all his friends now!” Yelena blurts out.

“Yeah. Now, ” Ava enunciates. “Now that it's sunk in that we're nice people. But I didn't want Radhika to think he was afraid of her because of his powers when that's just how Bob is. I mean, I thought that,” she says quietly, looking down.

“So.” Ava looks up at Yelena, who looks considerably less angry. “I was your second pick?” she says, the corner of her mouth lifting up.

Ava sighs, more affectionate than annoyed, and starts walking again. “Yeah, after Alexei,” she says. Yelena lets out a sharp laugh behind her, and Ava smiles.

After another 10 minutes of the girls making fun of their teammates, Yelena's phone pings loudly. LOCATION DETECTED - 1 KM AWAY. Ava taps her shoulder and silently points at a clearing to their right, where an expansive storybook cottage is.

Yelena zooms in on the satellite map, not seeing anything besides trees near the tracker. She walks while looking down at her phone, furrowing her brow.

She's stopped by Ava's arm, right where the dense forest ends and Radhika's backyard begins. “I don't see her, and—” Ava pulls down her mask. “There are no heat signatures anywhere at all,” she finishes, pulling it back up.

“Maybe she's not home.”

“That's not possible,” Ava hisses, a little frustrated. “The tracker’s on her wrist, and it’s supposed to last for at least 72 hours. Unless she’s taken after her uncle and sawed her arm off.”

Yelena peers out, then gets up and walks into the open.

“YELENA!” Ava stage whispers furiously as her friend casually walks up to the cottage. “YELENA I SWEAR.” Groaning loudly, she phases and walks angrily toward the door.

Getting visible again, she smacks Yelena on the shoulder.

“Ow! What—”

“Don't do that! Imagine she had, like, hidden guns or missiles coming out from the roof to shoot you the second you stepped out?”

Yelena pauses. “Like from the minion movie?” she says incredulously. “Are you seriously basing real life on the minion movie?”

“Oh, shut up, you know what I mean.”

The girls continue to bicker, not even noticing that Radhika came back from the forest, carrying logs of firewood and watching on in confusion. 

“But she's not even home!”

“And what happens if she comes back, huh?” Ava says, turning to gesture at the front yard. “What are we—” She sees Radhika right behind her and literally jumps, phasing briefly.

“JE-sus Christ!” Yelena yells, clutching her chest. “You scared us!” She says, annoyed but not entirely angry.

“Well, you're trespassing, so…” Radhika shrugs, walking past them and pushing the door open with her back. When they don't follow, she rolls her eyes and beckons them by jerking her neck exaggeratedly.

“Are you guys hungry?” she says as they walk into her living room. She dumps one log into the fireplace and leaves the rest on a growing pile. “I just woke up, like half an hour ago, if you couldn't tell from my hair,” gesturing to her messy curls fanning out from her head like a cloud. “I could make you guys something if you want.”

“No thanks,” Ava answers right as Yelena says, “Breakfast sounds nice!” Radhika enters the small adjoining kitchen and takes out bread, eggs, butter, and Sriracha. Meanwhile, the already-Thunderbolts start inspecting the living room, starting Mission Get To Know Radhika; Yelena plans to rework that name, by the way. 

It looks a thousand times more comfortable than the den in the Avengers Tower. It’s bursting with color; the walls are painted minty green, for one, and covered in art. A patchwork quilt rests over the back of the navy blue couch, while a crumpled Christmas-themed throw blanket covers it. Combining that with the fireplace heating the whole room, the wooden furniture, and the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, Yelena likes Radhika’s house a lot more than the stainless steel penthouse she calls home.

Ava looks at the mantle over the fireplace; souvenirs claimed every inch of space, from miniature statues to snow globes to Christmas tree ornaments. Hiding behind the souvenirs are two dusty picture frames. She leans closer to see one of grade-school Radhika with her dad, and one of baby Radhika being held by her mom. Her mom… Bucky is definitely right, because this woman looks like a female version of their team leader, down to the icy blue of their eyes.

“Can I ask you guys something?” Radhika calls out from the kitchen, “How did you guys find me?” She cuts a wedge of butter and drops it into a frying pan.

Yelena heads over to her, wishing to help. “We were just wandering around the beach at seven in the morning and found your house on accident,” she jokes as she puts several bread slices into the toaster. Radhika looks at her pointedly. “A tracker,” Yelena admits.

The eggs sizzle as Radhika drops them into the pan. “I didn’t see anything in my coat, so how—”

“It was an intradermal implant,” Ava says, leaning against the narrow entryway between the living room and the kitchen. “Went into your skin like a splinter.”

Radhika looks around at the others in mild shock, her mouth open. “Oookay,” she says slowly, turning back to the eggs. “That’s…insane, but whatever.”

“I have a question!” Yelena pipes up, taking out wine coolers from the fridge and unscrewing a mojito-flavored one. “How come,” she takes a sip, “we couldn’t see your house on satellite imaging?”

“It’s hidden,” Radhika responds. “My magic kind of hides it from the outside world. Has been since I started living here.” She pulls out three plates from the dish rack and places slices of buttered toast on them.

“How long has that been?” Ava asks curiously, taking a pale yellow bottle from Yelena without looking.

Radhika hums, trying to remember. “Since I was sixteen, so…twelve, thirteen years? Not counting when I got blipped.” She spoons fried eggs on the plates. “Yelena, can you bring these plates over to the coffee table?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yelena salutes and puts her already half-finished cooler down to help.

“Do people still go to school when they’re sixteen? I always forget with American schools,” Ava says, carrying the two drinks in her hands and the Sriracha bottle in the crook of her elbow.

“Yes…Radhika, how’d you go to school with your powers?” Yelena asks, crashing down on the couch next to Ava.

“Oh. Uh, I kind of didn’t,” she says shyly as she comes over with a bowl of green grapes. “It was too stressful, cause at any moment I could…you know…” She wiggles her fingers to produce red sparks on the table, making the wood burn a little. “So I dropped out junior year and got my GED, which is pretty much the same thing.”

“Yeah, who needs regular school anyway?” Yelena proclaims, generously drizzling hot sauce on her eggs. “Me and Ava never went, and we turned out fine.” She pauses. “Fine-ish.”

Radhika smiles politely, then goes back to the kitchen to get a wine cooler for herself. Ava, meanwhile, tries hers, and surprisingly likes the taste of piña coladas.

“So,” Radhika says, coming back and dropping into the armchair in front of the fireplace. “You guys want to tell me what you’re doing here?”

Yelena looks at Ava. Ava looks at Yelena. They have some whisper conversation / argument on who has to speak first. Radhika sighs and rubs her forehead with her hand. Yelena looks over and bursts into laughter mid-whisper fight.

“What?” Radhika sits up.

“You look just like—” Ava elbows Yelena, and all the laugh disappears from her face. “I can’t tell you,” she says gravely.

“Real smooth, Yelena,” Ava grumbles.

Radhika furrows her brows, looking even more like her uncle. “Look like who?”

Yelena turns towards Ava again. “She asked!” she says quietly.

“Yeah, but we weren’t supposed to tell—”

“We need to gain her trust,” Yelena hisses.

“Fine!” Ava whisper shouts back.

Yelena turns back to Radhika. “You looked like Bucky, just now. Like the hand on the forehead, and the annoyed face, he does that all the time.”

“Okay? Why was it such a big deal you guys argued—”

“Because you’re kind of related to him,” Yelena says breathlessly.

Radhika smiles. “Okay, guys, I don’t know what that Valentina lady told you guys, but I know who my biological dad is, and it’s definitely not Bucky Barnes.” She picks up her eggs on toast and takes a big bite.

“Your grandmother is Margaret Kennedy, right?” Ava says tentatively.

Radhika pauses mid-chew, then swallows, looking a little concerned. “Yes, how do you—”

“That’s Bucky’s niece,” Yelena interrupts, offering her a consolatory smile. “Surprise!”

Radhika looks at both of them, squinting as if trying to see if they’re lying. Then her eyes widen, and she slumps into her armchair, spacing out. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” Ava agrees.

Eventually, she looks back up at her guests. “So that’s why you guys came here?”

“Oh, um—” Ava purses her lips and looks back at Yelena.

“We are here to hang out with you,” Yelena admits.

“Oh.” Radhika’s blushing a little now. “Because you guys are recruiting me? I already told you—”

“No, just because,” Ava lies. “Well,” she backtracks under Radhika’s knowing look, “not entirely because we’re recruiting you. But we don’t really know each other, so I figured we should get to know each other, you know?” she finishes weakly.

Radhika stares them down. Then she shrugs. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Yelena says, confused.

“Yeah, you guys can hang out here. I’m not due for another episode until tomorrow at least, so you should be fine.”

Then a cat walks in from Radhika’s bedroom. Yelena literally lights up. “You have a cat!!” she screams, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, I do,” Radhika says, laughing, as the fluffy white Ragdoll jumps onto the coffee table, sniffing their plates. Yelena scoops up the unassuming kitty and gives it the biggest hug ever.

“Oh my goodness, they’re precious,” she croons, swaying with the cat in her arms. “What is their name?” Even Ava stands up to pet the cat, who nuzzles into her hand, clearly loving the attention.

“That’s Alpine,” Radhika replies. “For a cat that never sees anyone else, she really does love strangers.” Alpine meows in response and starts purring like an engine. “Let me grab one of her sticks, and you guys can play with her.”

When she returns, toy in hand, Yelena still has Alpine in her arms like a newborn child; she and Ava look over her cat like loving parents. Radhika thinks she can even hear Yelena singing a Russian lullaby to the cat. 

Radhika sneakily takes a picture. As funny as it is, she finds it reassuring; it says a lot if a cat loves you.

8:22 PM. The same Sunday in November.

Yelena, Ava, and Radhika haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

Not to hate on the Thunderbolts, but while they do enjoy each other’s presence, it’s in a very “cramped back seat of your dad’s sedan on a road trip” way. Everything’s very high stakes, high tension, high energy.

Game night usually ends in someone flipping the table, or Walker and Alexei settling things “like men”, or Ava throwing her cards down and ragequitting. There’s the eternal battle of the TV remote, which—need I explain? And the weekend they spent in Vegas for Walker's birthday this past summer was Hangover levels of terrible; Yelena still doesn’t understand how they lost Bob.

The girls are having fun in a “stretch limo on the way to prom” way. After playing with Alpine for the better part of an hour, Radhika took them outside to show off her powers. Anyone would admit, uprooting a tree and turning it into rain was crazy impressive. But Ava liked the most when Radhika changed Yelena’s hair color to bubblegum pink for twenty minutes without her noticing.

They sparred for a little, just because Yelena was burning with curiosity to see whether she was any good. Her technique was a little iffy, but Ava noted she had quick reflexes and was very promising, even without the use of her powers.

Then they went inside, and played Overcooked for the longest time on Radhika’s PS. Yelena took charge, assigning roles and calling out orders, while Radhika and Ava moved like they were of one mind; they played like a well oiled machine. Then Yelena complained that all this fake cooking was making her real hungry, so they took a lunch break.

Munching on chips, grapes, and sandwiches, Radhika finally built up the courage to ask about the other Thunderbolts. (Not just Walker, but everyone.) Ava and Yelena took to telling story after story of their fellow team members, sprinkling in enough lore for Radhika to feel she liked these people already. 

When it came to their own tragic backstories, Ava and Yelena glossed over the really shitty stuff, not to ruin the mood, but whatever they left unsaid left Radhika feeling angry on their behalf, and more than a little protective.

Finally, they asked about Radhika’s past, pressing for details beyond “I’ve lived here alone since my parents died”. Apparently, Radhika was an affair baby, her mother an upper-class socialite, and her father a business magnate who made billions in hotels. 

From what they can make out, Radhika felt oddly indifferent about her parents. “Once I stopped being a cute little baby, neither of them really felt like spending time with me anymore. Which was fine. I mean, a lot of kids have parents that are much worse, so I’d rather be alone than have that sort of fucked up relationship in my life.” She shrugs it off, but Ava and Yelena share a knowing glance.

They both died in the Battle of New York, way back in 2012, the same day Radhika inexplicably got her powers from an explosion that should have killed her. Once she learned the hard way about her episodes, almost ruining her mother’s funeral, she decided to live in this cottage away from people. A family friend who works for the state helped cover up its existence, and she’s been hiding out here ever since.

“What do you mean, hiding?” Ava says.

“Well, except for art exhibits I’m presenting work at, I usually don’t leave from here. Oh, and the Halloween gala, that’s like my one freebie.”

“You’re here all the time?” Yelena says in disbelief. “What about groceries, hanging out with friends, doctor’s appointments?”

“Well,  groceries, I can just make whatever I want,” Radhika starts, counting on her fingers. “I haven’t gone to the doctor since iPhones had lightning chargers because I’m perfectly healthy, and I don’t have any friends.”

The other girls are a little stunned by that last admission. “You don’t have any friends?” Ava ventures. “Not like, girls from school, or cousins, or friendly neighbors?”

Radhika shrugs. “I don’t need friends.” Before Ava can respond to that , she claps and stands up.

“Alright, let’s do something else. Any ideas?” The girls think, trying to brainstorm fun stuff, when Yelena’s hit with an idea.

“Oh my god Radhika. You NEED to show me your dress from the Halloween party.”

Radhika, eager to change the topic, led them back into the bedroom to pull out the dress. That devolves into a dress-up party: while Radhika has a lot of elegant, cocktail, black tie outfits, Yelena and Ava have superhero suits.

Radhika messes around with Yelena’s widow batons and breaks a painting frame hanging on the wall. Ava tries on a pair of stilettos and makes it about three steps before falling forwards, somehow remaining corporal enough to hit the ground hard. Yelena struts around in the Atonement dress that’s far too long for her, posing for Radhika’s digital camera.

Digging around in her closet, Radhika pulls out her expansive collection of nail polish and an almost-expired set of mehndi tubes. She puts on “Bend it like Beckham”, which Ava keeps reminding her of, and puts mehndi on Yelena’s palms while Ava does intricate nail art on both hands and feet.

After dinner, consisting of Yelena’s infamous Sriracha mac and cheese, Radhika pulls out some ice cream bars. Everyone squeezes into her bed as Ava flicks through Netflix.

“God, it's almost impossible to find anything good these days,” she complains as Yelena unwraps her bar for her and places it in her hand. Radhika, who generously lent them her pajamas for the night, goes to the bathroom to put aloe on her ever-healing burns.

Yelena takes a sizable bite of her own, enjoying the chill the ice cream sends to her teeth. Somewhere under the covers, her phone rings. Feeling around on the bed, Yelena finally finds it. 

Three missed calls from Bob, seven from Alexei, one from Walker, and the second call from Bucky is currently ringing. Then it stops.

Groaning, Yelena unlocks her phone. “Ava, we are in such deep shit,” she murmurs as she facetimes Bucky.

The call goes through. “Hey, Bucky—”

“Okay. What the hell?!”

“Bucky, it’s a video call, you gotta—I can only see your ear—”

“What?” Bucky says sharply. “Oh.” He pulls the phone away to show his face.

“Yelena, where are you and Ava?”

“Relax, okay? We’re just at Radhika’s house—”

“YELENA!” someone roars distantly. Alexei comes to grab the phone from Bucky, furious. “NO CALL, NO TEXT, NO NOTE—”

“But we did leave a note!” Yelena protests. “You want to back me up, maybe?” She elbows Ava.

Bucky grabs the phone back from Alexei, but his head still hovers over Bucky’s shoulder. “Are you guys okay? Are you safe?”

“Yeah, we’re safe, we’re eating ice cream.” Ava waves her bar around in front of the camera. “How did you guys not see our note?”

“Ava, all your note said was ‘be back soon, love, the gurlz’,” Bob shouts off-camera, emphasizing the ‘z’.

“What note?! Let me see!” Alexei shouts, turning away.

“Sorry,” Yelena apologizes, taking another bite, “lost track of time.”

“Where are you again?” Bucky asks, now more annoyed than angry.

“I told you already, Radhika’s house,” Yelena mumbles as she swallows her ice cream.

“Who’s that on the phone?” Radhika says as she walks into her bedroom. Yelena turns the phone around to show her. “Hey, Uncle Bucky,” she says, smirking as she climbs over Yelena’s legs to sit next to Ava.

“Oh, hey—YOU TOLD HER?” Bucky shouts, realizing what she said. Yelena winces as the phone faces her again.

“She kind of interrogated it out of us,” Ava leans over to say. “Which, a very good skill to have if she’s going to join the Thunderbolts.” 

Bucky just sighs aggressively. Then another head pops up over his shoulder. “Hey dipshits. Why’d you leave and not say anything?” Walker says coolly.

“Well, dipshit ,” Ava snarks, “we wanted to go visit your girlfriend.”

“What?” Walker yelps at the same time Radhika says “I’m not his girlfriend.”

“Wait, you guys are hanging out with her?” Walker says hesitantly, face turning red in real time.

Yelena nods and turns the phone over to Radhika, who wiggles her fingers, smiling a little shyly.

“Oh—hey, um—what’s—” Walker grins sheepishly as Yelena turns the camera back to her and Ava. 

“Relax, Walker.”

“I am relaxed,” Walker snaps.

“A little too relaxed, if you ask me,” Bob says loudly, coming into frame behind Bucky. “Hey, is that a banana in your pocket or are you just—”

Walker growls and pushes Bob onto the couch, tackling him. There’s screaming and kicking, and when Walker tries to muffle Bob’s loud and embarrassing comments with his hand, he licks Walker's palm; Walker lets out a disgusted shout and shrinks back. Bucky sighs, again.

“Hey Bucky, we were thinking of staying overnight, is that okay?” Yelena asks, eating the last of her ice cream. Next to her, Ava and Radhika bicker over watching “Death Becomes Her” or “Alien”. “Radhika said it was okay, she’s not due for an episode until tomorrow night.”

“I—yeah, whatever,” Bucky says, his mouth becoming a thin line.

“You know, I really like her,” Yelena says quietly, so only her phone can pick it up. Bucky’s expression softens. “So does Ava. I think she’ll end up joining us, we just got to take it slow.”

Bucky nods. “I can live with that, even if Valentina can’t.” Yelena smiles in response.

“Bucky, can Radhika come over for Thanksgiving?” Ava says as the phone turns towards the other two girls. Radhika stills next to her.

“Well, I’m not going to be here, I’m going to Sam’s that week. You’d have to ask—”

“OF COURSE!” Alexei shouts, taking the phone away. “Radhika,” he says, looking right at her and rolling his R’s, “any friend of my daughters is a friend of mine. You are welcome to come over whenever.” He beams at Radhika, who smiles back and thank him for the open invitation.

“Stop grabbing the phone from me,” Bucky mutters as he takes his own phone back. “Alright, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Goodnight!” all three girls say in unison.

“Goodnight, girls!” Alexei says distantly.

Bucky turns the camera to Bob and Walker, who fell off the couch but are still wrestling. Bob, crawling out from between Walker’s legs, looks up at the phone and waves cheerily before kicking Walker in the chin like a donkey. “AAH, MOTHERFUCK—” Walker flips and grabs a pillow to start smashing Bob’s face with. Bob, in turn, starts to tickle Walker on his sides until he collapses into giggles.

“Goodnight.” Bucky turns the phone back to himself, very amused, and hangs up.

The girls are quiet for a second as the overwhelming sound of the Thunderbolts disappears and is replaced by wind and crickets.

“The tickling is good to know,” Yelena comments.

“Useful,” Ava agrees. Then they both turn to Radhika, who hasn't said anything but is instead smiling to herself.

Ava elbows her, and she looks up. “What?” she says innocently. 

“Don't do that,” Yelena says disgustedly.

“Do what?”

“The fantasizing about Walker.” Radhika gasps. “It's gross, and I don't want to have to see that.”

“I am NOT—”

“We can tell, babes,” Ava says, wrinkling her nose.

“I wasn't fantasizing ,” Radhika says briskly. “I just—” She pauses, lowering her volume considerably. “His laugh was kind of cute, that's all.”

Yelena gags and Ava shouts “Ew, Radhika!”, shuffling away from her.

“You're going to make me throw up my mac and cheese,” Yelena groans.

“Well, don't get any on my comforter,” Radhika says coolly as she presses play on ‘Death Becomes Her’. Alpine jumps onto the bed, curling up at Ava’s feet and promptly falling asleep.

They get about 10 minutes into the movie before Yelena makes another Walker-related comment, and Radhika retaliates by smacking her in the face with a pillow.

Chapter Text

4:50 PM. On a Thursday in November.

T-120

John Walker is losing his mind.

He lowkey already lost it, but he’s for sure losing it right now.

One of Walker’s many personality flaws is the need to do things himself, whether it be coordinating an attack plan, or assembling furniture, or cooking for the team. And now he’s taken it upon himself to cook what many consider thee dinner of the year: Friendsgiving dinner.

He considers himself a decent cook, and pretty good at managing stressful situations while staying cool and collected. But he’s never done the intersection of the two things, and that scares him. Not to mention, people beyond his shitty work family are coming to eat: Yelena’s girlfriend, Kate; Ava’s…friend, he thinks (he didn’t bother asking beyond ‘any allergies’); and worst of all, Radhika. These are people who actually eat good food, who don’t praise the cheeseburger sliders he burned and oversalted. 

Walker is very familiar with how terrible people can feel this time of the year. The last three years, the holiday season was nothing but a reminder of how shitty his life was. This year though, he’s doing better. He’s not fighting with Olivia on every little thing, she doesn’t sigh every time he calls, and he’s even getting to visit the two of them over Christmas break. Things are okay, for the first time in a long time. And this dinner is going to reflect that.

At least, it would, if it wasn’t a complete fucking train wreck.

It’s T minus 2 hours to table setting. The turkey is still not yet in the oven, the mashed potatoes are unmashed, he ran out of heavy cream for the gravy, about 3 different side dishes haven’t been started yet, he completely forgot about desserts until this morning AND the stuffing is burning as he thinks all this.

All this information is looping in his brain over and over again; the smells and sounds of cooking are overwhelming him, and he vaguely feels as if the walls of the kitchen are pressing in on him. He starts cooking almost angrily because of this, distracted, stuck in the repetition of time running out and tasks increasing. Eventually Yelena is forced to stop ignoring him when he jerks his spoon around violently and the pan in front of him flips. Stuffing flies in the air, and half lands on his shirt, half on the floor.

“FUCK!” he shouts, brushing fire-hot food off his chest. He rips off a big strip of paper towels and kneels, trying to pick up the stuffing. It’s not working though, because his hands keep involuntarily clenching and smushing the stuffing, which makes the paper towel rip and defeats the purpose of cleaning.

“Help, Walker?” Yelena asks as she crouches down with him. He grunts something she can’t understand and waves her away. “You seem stressed.”

“Yeah, I’m stressed,” Walker snaps. When she recoils, he stops to take a deep breath. “I’m very behind on cooking,” he says curtly, “so if you wouldn’t mind just leaving me alone.” He keeps cleaning the floor, breathing out hard through his nostrils.

Yelena sniffs, then wrinkles her nose. “Jesus, you smell like gravy.”

“Are you sure you’re not just smelling gravy because you’re in the kitchen?”

“No, you smell terrible. And you look terrible,” she says, glancing at his ratty CG Bears T-shirt littered with stains. “Why don’t you go shower, me and Bob will handle things.”

Walker’s eyes widen in fear. “No, you will not! You don’t even know how to cook!”

Yelena clicks her tongue, pulling him up to his feet. “Just tell us what to do for the next 20 minutes. We’ll be fine, we won’t fuck up that bad.”

Walker laughs harshly at that, but calls Bob into the kitchen anyway. Rubbing spices into the turkey, he orders Yelena to start making a mac and cheese casserole, emphasizing not straying from the recipe he hands her. Bob, he directs to the mashed potatoes, which are finally soft enough to smash.

“Geez, take her on a date first,” Bob says, a little alarmed as Walker grabs a rubberband bundle of herbs and shoves his fist firmly into the turkey. Finally, after putting the bird in the oven, Yelena shoos him away to clean himself up. 

Kate is the first of their guests to arrive, being only a crossbow shot away. Her appearance takes Yelena by surprise; she’s too engrossed in making fun of Walker’s cooking playlist with Bob (Black Eyed Peas*, Queen*, and a surprising amount of Tame Impala***) to hear her come in. Kate gives her a sneak-attack hug, making Yelena shriek and drop her spoon.

“Don’t do that!” Yelena exclaims, not even angry as she envelops Kate in a bear hug. Kate subsequently plants kiss after kiss on her face, making Yelena giggle.

“Hey, Bob,” she says once she’s finished her assault of affection. Bob smiles and waves, then continues to work on the potatoes. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Walker went to shower, Ava and Alexei went to pick up her dad from the airport, and Bucky’s in Louisiana.” Bob doesn’t look up, sprinkling a spice mix over the food with intense focus and precision.

“What are you making?” Kate asks eagerly, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“Mac and cheese.”

“A Yelena Belova special,” Kate jokes. “You guys want some help?”

“No, no, you are a guest, Kate Bishop,” and Kate grins stupidly like her full name is a term of endearment, “please, get comfortable.”

Kate pulls up a stool and sits, watching Yelena with her chin resting on her hands. “Yesterday was a train wreck like you wouldn’t believe,” she says, sighing.

“Really?” Yelena hums, adding a generous amount of paprika to the cheese sauce.

As Kate regales her girlfriend with the tale of a surprisingly eventful mission that took her and Kamala all the way to Atlantic City, Walker rushes downstairs.

“Hey—woah,” Kate says as she turns around, smile dropping. “What are you wearing?” Bob and Yelena look up and burst into laughter.

“It’s the nicest shirt I have, all right?” Walker growls, buttoning his shirt. It’s a blue paisley shirt with white and red accents: it’s ridiculously flamboyant, especially considering the man who's wearing it.

“You look like a Persian rug,” Yelena wheezes, clutching her chest. Walker frowns deeply.

“Show us the sleeves!” Bob shouts, coming up to him and folding over his cuffs. “Are the sleeves—Oh yeah, macho man!” (The sleeves are electric blue.)

“Shut up!” Walker says, pulling away. He looks a little concerned now. “Is it really that bad?”

Yelena and Bob are still coming down from their high, so he looks to Kate. She opens her mouth, then presses it shut, grimacing a little; that’s all the answer he needs. “Oh my god,” he moans, running to check his reflection in the microwave door.

“It’s not that bad,” she offers. “You look really festive!”

“I look like a goddamn firework!” Walker shouts, his voice cracking.

“Well, you can’t change again, there’s no time,” Yelena says, finally recovered from her fits of giggles.

Walker groans loudly, then huffs, brushing it off. “Fine. I guess I’ll just look like a Fourth of July fanatic for the rest of tonight,” he says angrily as he spoons Bob’s mashed potatoes into a serving dish and covers it with foil.

5:30 PM. The same Thursday in November.

T-80

When Ava, Alexei, and Bill Foster arrive, the mashed potatoes and the gravy are done, the turkey and mac and cheese casserole are in the oven, and Bob is sauteeing green beans while Walker frantically redoes the stuffing.

“I like your shirt, Walker!” Ava calls out from the living room, and he’s a little pleased by the compliment until she adds “Save a horse, ride a cowboy!” Bob disguises his laugh as a cough, which doesn’t help.

The Thanksgiving game is playing on Walker's iPad on silent, which he keeps checking on from time to time.

“Walker, enough of this dad rock, play some Christmas music,” Alexei says as he enters the kitchen. 

“Thanksgiving hasn't even started, so no,” Walker says distractedly, watching the screen (Patriots-Bears 21-18, Q3). “God, is it illegal to play by the rules these days?” he mutters as another player on the Patriots gets fouled.

“At least something fun,” he pleads. “Can I have the A-U-X?”

“You can have it if you help cook,” he responds, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen. “Can you take out the beets?”

Alexei lights up. “So we ARE making borscht!” He quickly opens the fridge to comply.

“Yeah, dude, I said we would,” Walker replies, elbowing Alexei gently. He grabs his phone and unlocks it, passing it to his friend. Alexei busies himself with the phone for a few minutes, then puts it down to start making borscht.

‘Virgo’s Groove’ starts blaring from Walker’s little Wonderboom*. “I love Beyonce,” Alexei says over the music. “You know, Bob, me and her are the same star sign. Both September babies!”

“Of course,” Bob says, adding his own songs to the queue. “How could I forget Candlegeddon?”

(For Alexei’s birthday, Yelena had the bright idea of putting trick candles on his cake. After the fifth attempt to blow them out, a frustrated Alexei grabbed the still-burning candles and threw them, where they landed on the couch. Needless to say, they got a new couch and made a “no candles ever” rule.)

“Hey, Walker,” Bob says, nudging him, “your girl texted you.”

Walker quickly drops the spatula he was using to plate the green beans and snatches his phone out of Bob’s hands.

Radhika: hey im omw to ur place is it ok if i bring something?

“What do I say?” he says, glancing at Bob. “Oh shit, she’s typing again.”

Radhika: …

Radhika: i was thinking dessert, like pie ice cream etc etc

“Say yes!” Bob urges him. “And say thank you too, like, a thousand times from all of us!”

Me: Yes please!

Me: Thank you thank you thank you your a lightsaber

Me: *Life saver

Walker waits.

“She didn’t see it yet!” he says nervously. “Aw fuck, does she think I’m an idiot for calling her a lightsaber. I swear it was that autocorrecting bullshit—”

Radhika: lol

Radhika: Loved “Thank you thank you thank you your a lightsaber”

Radhika: any preferences?

“Dude you got a heart!” Bob says excitedly, shoving Walker.

Me: Dealer’s choice

Radhika: …

Radhika: …

Radhika: 👍

“Ho-ly shit,” Bob says, covering his mouth in shock. Walker turns around, food forgotten, a mixture of desperate and anxious.

“Well? Spit it out, Bob!” Walker says frantically.

“You know how, Radhika, the three dots were up there for a long time before she sent you the thumbs up?” Walker nods. “That means she was going to type something else but she chickened out.”

Walker furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“ Baby come overrrrr!” Alexei sings, gyrating his hips. He dumps vegetables into the skillet and flames engulf the pan, making a very loud sizzling noise.

“Alexei, please do NOT burn the kitchen down right now!” Walker yells, reaching over and lowering the heat significantly. 

“I think she likes you!” Bob finishes, grinning. “Like, the same amount as you like her!”

Walker's face slowly drops into a broad smile. He feels like he’s at the top of a roller coaster, where you can see how high you are, and you can anticipate the swooping feeling in your stomach. His body could erupt into flames with how excited he feels. She likes me, he thinks—he knows, now, and it makes him feel almost hopeful.

“WALKER!” Yelena shouts to get his attention. He turns around, still beaming. “Can we please get something to eat? We’re starving,” she groans.

“Uh—yeah, sure,” he says, smiling, and he crouches down to rifle through the cabinets. “Bob, take out the 3-pack dip thing from the fridge, buddy.”

Yelena tilts her head. “You’re being nice,” she says suspiciously as she takes the bag of chips from him. “An hour ago you were ready to bite my head off.”

He shrugs in response. “I calmed down.”

She looks even more weirded out. “Are you feeling alright?”

6:20 PM. The same Thursday in November.

T-40

Radhika: hiiiiii i’m here how do i get up

Radhika: i don’t see any stairs

Radhika: or an elevator

Radhika: or people

Me: I’ll send someone down to get you

Radhika: kk

“Hey Bob?” Walker calls out. “What does kay-kay mean?”

Everything but the turkey is done. It’s 40 minutes to setting the table, and the bird looks jaundiced, but he raised the heat from 425 to 480, so that should speed things up. That initial Radhika high has long worn off. The Patriots won, but by a last-minute play that got them a single point ahead; he almost tore his beard out in anxiety. The speaker plays “Psycho Killer”* loudly on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room, really adding to the mood. As you might be able to tell, Walker is very much on edge.

Bob comes over from the living room, cider in hand, and peers over Walker’s shoulder. “That just means okay, but in, like, a cutesy way. Do you want me to go get her?”

“Yeah, can you?” Walker says, sighing. “I—this turkey is driving me nuts.” He turns to stare at the oven, getting stuck in a haze of turkey.

Bob pats him on the back, then turns to leave. “It’ll be fine,” he calls back.

“Your friends are interesting,” Bill is saying to Ava. Since he’s been here, Yelena and Kate did choreographed dances for three different boy bands, Alexei forced him into a conversation about the Soviet Union (Yelena thinks he misheard “quantum physics” as “communists”), and Walker and Bob have been doing a more hyper version of “The Bear” seven feet away.

Ava sighs. “They’re all idiots.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But I know that’s what you meant,” she replies, smiling a little.

He chuckles. “They’re treating you okay?”

She pauses. “Actually, they kind of are. I feel—okay with them,” she tries to explain. “Like I can be myself here, and they won’t really mind.”

Bill smiles warmly. “I’m really happy for you, Ava.”

Ava looks down, smiling shyly at her lap. Then she clears her throat, and her hand flickers. “Now, when are you going to visit again?” she says, tilting her chin up.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking,” Bill starts. Ava cocks an eyebrow; Bill is known to mess with her from time to time. “I’m getting pretty old, you know, and living in the suburbs, I don’t think it’s too manageable. What if I lose my license? I can’t walk everywhere.”

“What are you saying?” Ava asks, sitting up straight.

“I’m thinking of moving to the city.”

“What, like this city? New York City?”

He shrugs. “I think any city would be fine, but since you suggested…”

Ava turns her body to face him fully. “Are you serious about this?” she says with narrowed eyes.

“I haven’t seen you since I got blipped, Ava,” he says, suddenly looking unhappy. “That’s nine years of your life I wasn’t there for you. But I want to be there now.” He takes her hand and clasps it between his.

Ava sighs, tearing up a little on the inside. “Alright, if you insist,” she says, mock gruffly. She glances at him and her resolve breaks. “Ugh, Bill,” her voice cracks, as she reaches over to hug him tight.

The elevator door dings, and they break apart, a little embarrassed at their impromptu show of affection.

Walker's heart has jumped up to his throat. He checks his reflection in the microwave again, pushing back his hair and smoothing down his shirt. Then he remembers what he's wearing and groans internally.

“Hey, Radhika—wow, that's a lot of bags,” Yelena says as she and Bob stagger in with bags over their shoulders and in their hands.

Walker rushes towards them. “Jesus, you got dessert for the whole city or something?” he jokes as he takes the bags out of her hands. Their hands brush, and it makes Radhika’s cheeks turn pink.

“Just enough for two supersoldiers, a bunch of regular people, and plenty of leftovers,” she replies. “I'm planning on taking some home, by the way.” Walker just grins like a fool.

Kate gasps. “What did you get?” She tears into the bags on the kitchen island, Yelena following after her.

“Guys, guys, stop,” Radhika exclaims, pushing their hands away, “it's a surprise for after dinner.”

Kate raises her eyebrows and turns to Yelena. “I like surprises.”

“Well, I don't,” Yelena says grumpily, “but I guess I will wait.” Kate pulls an arm around her and pecks her on the cheek, so Yelena has to fight to keep her frown.

“I'm Kate, by the way,” she says, smiling.

“Radhika. Nice to meet you. Sorry I'm so late,” she says worriedly to Yelena, who shrugs.

“No problem. The turkey isn't done yet anyway.” Walker groans behind her.

“RADHIKA!” Alexei booms from the living room, making the person in question jump. “Very nice to see you again!”

“Alexei!” Radhika says just as enthusiastically but significantly quieter. “Very nice to see you sober.”

He laughs loudly, clapping Radhika on the back (she slides forward about two inches). “You are very funny. Your uncle,” he says, knitting his brows together, “he is not that funny. More serious, hurmm,” he makes a frowny face, “our Bucky.”

“Makes sense. We get our sense of humor from our left arms.”

“What—OH!” He laughs again, loud and almost obnoxiously; Yelena clenches her teeth in frustration. Radhika gives him a polite smile and quickly walks the opposite direction into the kitchen.

“Careful with the jokes, he might start liking you,” Walker says, his back turned to her, as he opens a jar of cranberry sauce.

She clicks her tongue. “He's not that bad.”

“You don't live with him. The man even gets on Bob's nerves from time to time.”

“Somehow that's not hard to believe.” That earns her a laugh. “Nice to see you again, John,” she says, leaning against the counter.

He twists to face her. “Right back at you.” 

Radhika can't stop staring into Walker’s incredibly blue eyes, which is bad, but then she glances at his lips, which is worse. So she pushes off the counter, looking away, and starts taking things out of her many bags.

“Did you see the game earlier today, Patriots and the Bears?” she asks him, putting white box after white box in the fridge. “I was watching it on my phone on the way here. God, I did not expect that to end the way it did.”

“I—yeah, I was watching it while I was cooking,” he says, a little intrigued. Nobody on the team is really into football; Ava doesn't care about any sports, Bob's more of a basketball guy, Yelena and Alexei both watch soccer, and Bucky—he could enjoy ultimate Frisbee for all Walker knows about the man. “I knew the Patriots were going to win, but—”

Radhika spins around, box on her hip. “What do you mean you knew the Patriots were going to win?” She puts the box down, almost offended by his opinion.

Walker scoffs, spooning cranberry sauce into a ramekin. “I mean, it was kind of obvious. Have you been following the Bears?”

“Uh, yeah, they've been winning .” Her eyes are doing that thing again, glistening red like a picture with lens flare.

“They've only been winning because they've been playing shitty team after shitty team!” Walker exclaims. “Their tactics are all over the place—”

“Look, if you don't understand how they play, then just say that.”

“Okay, so, do you support the Bears?” He points the spoon, accusing her.

“I do if the fucking Patriots are playing,” she says, pushing his arm down. Walker laughs at that. “What?”

“No, it's just—so you're an idiot.” Radhika gasps at that, indignant.

“Just because I think their lineup is the worst it's been in years doesn't mean—”

“The WORST? I’m sorry, do you see who the tight end for the Bears is?”

“Fuck you, their tight end could wipe the floor with any of—”

“Is this foreplay?” Kate whispers to Ava as they see the two of them invade each other's personal space to bicker about nothing.

“I don't know, and I don't want to know,” she whispers back.

“Uh, Walker?” Bob says hesitantly.

“Yeah?” he says breathlessly, glaring at Radhika.

“I think the, uh, oven is on fire.”

Walker glances at the oven door and curses, stepping in front of Radhika and pushing her behind him. Flames are erupting from within the oven, producing large wafts of smoke. 

“Can somebody get the fire extinguisher?” Walker shouts over his shoulder.

“It’s finished,” Alexei calls out, unbothered.

“What do you mean, it's finished?” Walker says incredulously.

“We used it for Ava's birthday dinner and then we never replaced it,” Yelena shouts nervously, shielding Kate from the flames.

Walker groans loudly. Then he feels hands pulling at his waist, tugging him backwards. “I got it,” Radhika says as she pulls him behind her.

She waves her left hand in a semicircle, then flicks her wrist up. The flames, the smoke, and the burning smell all disappear like she pressed rewind on a tape. She furrows her brows, pushing her hand down until she's satisfied. When she drops her hand, a loud crackling noise comes from the oven, startling everyone.

“It should be okay now,” she says, looking up at Walker, her right hand still lightly resting on his hip. He’s watching her intently with an expression she can’t really decipher. When he doesn’t respond, she nods awkwardly and pats him on his back, turning to walk away.

“Wow, Radhika, that was impressive!” Alexei says eagerly as she passes him. She offers him a weak smile in return and enters the bathroom, trying to ignore everyone’s eyes on her. As she closes the door, she can hear Yelena shout, “480?!”

Radhika looks in the bathroom mirror. Yikes. New, small-scale burns litter her face, her hands; it’s all over her bare skin, even the bottom of her feet. It hurts to stand, but she knows it’ll hurt even more to sit down. She turns on the faucet to run cold water all over her arms, exhaling at the short-term relief. She splashes water on her face, then her neck. The rest of her body will have to sting with pain until she can go home and shower. 

Radhika towels herself dry, gritting her teeth with frustration. Every time she uses her powers, this happens; over and over again. Eventually, she exhales sharply and forces herself to walk out. A tiny voice in her head she tries to ignore says you shouldn’t have come.

6:57 PM.  The same Thursday in November.

“Radhika seems really nice, from the two minutes I was in the elevator with her,” Bob is saying to Ava as they set the table (Bucky ordered an actual dining table because he said eating on the kitchen island was, quote, ‘embarrassing’). “And I think she really likes Walker.”

“Yes, it did seem that way when they had a row in the kitchen,” Ava deadpans. Then she pauses. “Which side do forks go on?”

Bob shrugs. “I've just been putting shit anywhere.”

“Allow me to help,” Bill says, rearranging each place setting. “After decades of dinner parties with snobby humanities professors who use three different spoons for the same meal, I know place settings like the back of my hand.”

“So not very well,” Ava jokes, and Bill elbows her gently.

“This Radhika, is she also on your team?” he asks. Ava and Bob look at each other, hesitating.

“Not exactly,” Bob offers. “She, well, obviously she has superpowers. You saw that whole turkey thing. But we’re trying to convince her to join the Thunderbolts so we can be, like, her support system.

“I don’t know if Ava told you about how we met—” Bill nods, so Bob cuts himself off. “And you might know about Wanda Maximoff. People like us need friends,” he says, smiling at Ava, “someone to rely on. Like you and Ava!” He gestures with a fork.

“That’s very noble of you all,” Bill says. “Is it working?”

“She’s here, isn’t she?” Ava replies, smirking.

“COMING THROUGH,” Alexei shouts, carrying the turkey on a large platter. Thanks to Radhika, it’s golden brown perfection, surrounded by sprigs of rosemary and lemon slices. 

“Alexei, you don’t have to shout it,” Kate says behind him, bearing the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Just say it normally.”

“I am normal,” he claims, placing the platter down in the center of the table with a clang.

“Agree to disagree,” Yelena comes in, cradling her beloved mac and cheese casserole.

“Ach, Lena, don't say these things in front of guests.”

“It’s not like any of us are normal, anyway,” she says. “No offense, Bill.”

“None taken.”

“Guys, sit down, sit down, sit down,” Walker repeats as he holds trays of green beans and stuffing in his hands, bowls of cranberry sauce nudged in the crooks of his elbows. “Bob, Yelena, can you go get the wine from the pantry?” They both blink at him, so he sighs and mutters, “The snack closet.”

“Ohhh,” Bob says, while Yelena goes, “Why didn’t you just say that?” as they both turn the corner, almost bumping into Radhika with a gravy boat shaped like a turkey.

Alexei takes his seat at the head of the table, while Walker sits at the opposite end. Ava and Bill sit on his left, and he bites back a grin when Radhika and Kate sit on his right. Radhika, looking a little reddened, winces when she sits down, but thankfully nobody but Walker notices.

Dinner goes…about as well as you’d expect. Walker and Radhika start arguing about whether the Cowboys are likely to beat the Jets (Walker-yes, Radhika-no). Then when Bill asks them for advice about moving to the city, they start up yet another heated discussion about which borough is the best. Bill and Ava eat while watching them, eyes traveling back and forth like it’s a tennis match. Ava contributes by agreeing with Radhika and pointing out flaws in Walker’s logic, to his chagrin. The only thing he and Ava agree on is Radhika’s talent as an artist, which Bill brings up to get a little break from the arguing. The artist herself just blushes profusely as Walker scrolls through his phone, showing Bill pictures of her Guggenheim exhibit.

On the other end of the table, Yelena tried to get Alexei to not cut the turkey with a machete, which he did anyway. He then tells a completely-fake story about how he got the machete to Kate, who’s trying very hard not to laugh. She starts baiting Alexei into telling stories about his days as the Red Guardian, which he does with gusto as Yelena contemplates stabbing everyone there with the machete. Walker’s Wonderboom, unattended, plays a steady stream of loud music*** that only adds to the environment. Ava and Bob whisper intermittently about their sides of the table, and Yelena sends Bucky a short video of the chaos at the table.

Me: (Video) fun times

Me: hope sam wilsons house is better

Me: give him a big kiss from us

Buckaroo: Liked a video

Buckaroo: Haha. No.

9:14 PM. The same Thursday in November.

At the Tower, everybody's enjoying round two of dessert at the dinner table. Radhika really went all out: six different types of pies, eleven total, and enough ice cream pints to feed a small elementary school.

Yelena is currently balancing a third scoop of french vanilla on her slice of apple pie, telling a story from her Widow days, and Kate listens solemnly while she eats from her bowl of cherry pie and strawberry ice cream. Alexei fell asleep in his chair, the sheer amount of carbohydrates he consumed tonight knocking him out. 

Next to them, Bill and Bob are engaged in a lively conversation about Bob's powers. Bill explains basic physics, letting his bowl of black raspberry melt, while Bob listens carefully, ignoring his slice of pumpkin pie, occasionally describing another symptom or effect. Ava listens to the background noise of everyone talking, most focused on eating her pecan pie and coffee ice cream before they both become room temperature.

Everyone’s enjoying dessert at the dinner table except Radhika and Walker. They're standing in the kitchen next to each other, just talking non-stop, like a stream of consciousness that never ends. They've transitioned from arguing to laughing to murmuring softly several times in the past hour. Walker's Wonderboom has shifted to playing more slow love songs*** than alt rock, which adds horribly well to the atmosphere.

Ava has half a mind to tell them to shut up, just because she can hear them falling in love from the other room. She ghosts in and out to make sure they haven't started copulating where food is made, but the most scandalous thing they've done so far is brush hands, which is surprising considering they’re practically attached at the hip. And Radhika's face is angled up towards Walker more than half the time, sparks falling from her fingers like rain. It doesn’t make sense he hasn't kissed her yet, and Ava says as much to the other girls.

“Twenty bucks says he won't kiss her for another three months,” Yelena says in response to the report.

“Well, don't be so sure, Lena,” Kate says as she puts a maraschino cherry between her teeth, unstemming it. “I'd give them six weeks.”

“Six weeks is generous,” Ava says, leaning on Yelena's shoulder as she stands. “I'd put forty bucks on never.”

Yelena cackles at that. “Okay, you're on.”

Bob, whose interest piqued at the mention of betting, wanders over to this side of the dinner table and unceremoniously dumps all the money in his wallet. The girls and Bill watch in confusion as he sorts all his liquid assets in one neat pile. “Fifty-two dollars, seventy-nine cents, and about twelve dollars in the GameStop gift card is what I wager.”

Everyone stares. “What are you betting on?” Kate finally asks.

“He'll kiss her in…” Bob thinks for a moment, scrunching up his face in concentration. Then his face clears. “81 days.”

“What’s in 81 days?”

“Valentine’s Day, I think,” Yelena replies, cocking her head. “Why then?”

Bob shrugs. “Just have a good feeling about it. I’m also incredibly lucky, so I’m pretty confident with my guess.” He smirks, uncharacteristically proud.

Ava scrutinizes him, one eyebrow raised. “Alright,” she says finally, pulling out her phone to write this all down.

A minute later, they hear a gasp from the kitchen. “Oh my god,” Radhika says, panicked by some unseen threat. “Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She flits around the kitchen, looking for something.

“What is it?” Walker says, concern bleeding heavily into his tone. His hands are raised slightly, like he wants to help her, or support her, or something.

“I—shit,” she groans, “I have to go home. I have to go right now.” She finally finds her phone, wedged underneath a white box, then heads to the living room to pick up her jacket and purse.

“Did something happen?” Yelena calls out as they all filter into the kitchen. Ava reaches into Alexei’s chest and flexes her fingers to wake him up, and it works; he jolts up at the phantom sensations, almost bumping into the dinner table.

“It’s, uh, it’s very late,” Radhika says back, putting on her jacket with quick, jerky motions, “and I don’t want to trespass on you guys any longer.”

“Oh, it’s no problem—”

“No, I really should go.” 

“Radhika.” At the sound of her name, she finally stills and faces Walker, who seems terribly anxious. “What happened?” He reaches out for her hand, but she flinches and takes a step back, worrying him even more.

“I have an episode coming on.” She rolls her sleeves up to show her forearms, which are flaming red like she pressed them to an iron. As she speaks, Walker thinks he can see her unhealed skin burning slowly and curling up on itself. “I still have about an hour, so I’ll leave now before I completely ruin your night.” She’s joking, trying not to worry him further, and pulls her sleeves back down.

“Hey, uh, if you want, you can just stay downstairs. The rest of the Tower is unfinished, so you can just, you know—” he mimes exploding, “—and then come back up. We’re so far from your house anyway, so you can just stay over.”

Radhika thinks it’s both stupid and endearing that he’s trying to get her to stay, but she’s undeterred. “Thank you, but no. I don’t—with people around—” She stops, trying to find the words. “I really can’t.” Walker’s face falls, a little disappointed.

“I’m going to head home,” she mutters to herself, slinging her purse on, “and hopefully by the time it starts I’ll be closer to the beach.” Then she swiftly turns on her heel and heads for the elevator, with Walker trailing after her.

“When will I see you again?” he asks, and that lovelorn tinge to his voice makes her stop and curse herself. She really shouldn’t keep stringing him along.

“I don’t know, John,” Radhika replies, pressing the down button and sighing, “I really don’t know. I—I shouldn’t even have come here, so unless you’re planning to come to that Halloween gala again, I might just never see you again.”

“But—I thought—what do you mean, ‘I shouldn’t have come here’?” Walker sounds incredibly confused, almost indignant.

“I mean I’m a danger to the people around me,” she says bluntly, turning around. “I shouldn’t make you guys think I’m your friend when ultimately…I can’t do this .” She gestures between them. “I’m really sorry for misleading you, but I can’t continue whatever this is.”

Walker clenches his jaw, feeling greatly rebuffed. “Why’d you even come here then,” he snaps, “if you’ve made up your mind you never even want to see us again?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” Radhika says hotly. Walker can feel heat radiating from her, and can see her eyes burning brighter than any flame he’s ever seen. “You know, I was just stupid enough to fall for all the flirting, and the coming over to my house, and inviting me over. You, and your fucking team,” she jabs a finger at the crowd gathered behind him, “just want to draft me like we’re playing JV football.” 

Her voice raises as she gets closer and closer to Walker, practically shouting in his face. “I don’t want to be a superhero. I can’t be a superhero if all I do is hurt, and kill, and destroy. Why has this not gotten into your thick, FUCKING skull?”

“We can help you,” he yells, a purpley-red vein throbbing in his forehead. “If you just got your head out of your hermit crab ass , you’d be able to see that. O.X.E. has scientists, doctors—we can fix you—”

“O.X.E.? The same people who experimented on Bob and effectively ruined his life?” The elevator dings behind her, and they both fall silent.

Walker takes a deep breath to calm himself, then tries again. “Look, Radhika—”

She turns to the others, ignoring him. “Thank you guys for inviting me, I had a lovely night. But please, for the love of God,” she clasps both hands and shakes them like she’s praying, “never contact me again.” They all start talking at the same time, trying to convince her of something or other, but it’s all in vain.

She turns around to enter the elevator, but Walker grabs her hand, and it forces Radhika to turn around, a small part of her shocked once again that he never flinches at her touch. 

“You're making a mistake.” He's pleading to her, even though she just insulted him and his entire family, and it sends up a flurry of emotions that she won't try to untangle now. She drops his hand and enters the elevator, watching as his whole body wilts like a flower.

“Goodbye, John,” Radhika says quietly, pressing the “close door” button, and watching her vision narrow to Walker’s face, reddened from frustration, his mouth drooping at the corners, until they’re all gone, and she’s left with only herself.

She gives herself about eighteen seconds to tear up / cry / punch a dent in the elevator wall. When she gets to the ground floor, she wipes away the tear streaks from her face, straightens her jacket, and forces herself to hold it together for the next ninety minutes (strong emotion sometimes makes episodes happen sooner).

The doors open, and she’s met with a short, older woman with a white streak in her hair, and about five men in army gear behind her. 

“Radhika, right?” the woman says, flashing a conniving smile. “I’m Valentina. Why don’t you come with us, and I can give you my elevator pitch?”

And before Radhika can tell her no, a soldier pulls out a gun and shoots her in the chest. The heat dissipates from her body almost instantly, like a shockwave of cold spreading from her gunshot wound, and she falls backwards.

The last thing she sees before she passes out is Valentina’s sharp stiletto heel digging into her chest as she crouches down to peer into Radhika’s face.

“Beautiful,” her fading voice says. “You’re like a shiny new toy.”

Chapter Text

9:15 PM. On a Sunday in December.

Bob has had his fair share of terrible Christmases, just like the rest of his teammates. But he’s more eager to celebrate with his new family, even if most of them would rather be somewhere else. So though he can’t possibly surpass Alexei in terms of holiday enthusiasm, he still tries. He’s the one who, about fifteen minutes ago, quite literally shoved the team out the door to, quote, “do something normal for once”. 

Somehow, someway, Bob was able to get the Thunderbolts out of their post-dinner hazes of drowsiness and into hats and scarves. Maybe it worked because he was so persistent; straining to pull Yelena to her feet from off the couch, baiting Alexei with candy, pushing Walker into his room to get dressed. Or maybe it was because it’s Bob, and you couldn’t really say no after seeing his eager eyes and palpable excitement. 

Either way, it was definitely not because the team wanted to leave the warmth of the Tower for the frozen-over hell that is New York City at night. The cold seeped into their clothes and bit at their exposed skin, and the wind blew occasional gusts of dry air into their faces as if to remind them it’s winter.

“I hate winter,” Yelena shudders, pulling the collar of her coat up. “Bob, this had better be worth it.”

“It is, trust me,” he says, leading the way, unfazed by the cold somehow. He’s wearing this cute knit hat, the kind with ear flaps and braided strings, and Yelena’s tempted to pull it off.

“Well, I don’t trust you,” Ava says, shivering for maybe the ninetieth time in the past ten minutes. She phases for a brief second, the cold making it incredibly hard to stay corporal, and pulls her scarf up to her nose. 

“Bob, where are we going again?” Alexei calls out, once they’ve stopped at a crosswalk.

“The Winter Village. It's not that far from here, and Google said it's fun, so I got us tickets. Oh, we should turn left here.”

Bob feels a tap at his shoulder and turns to see Bucky. “You sure this place is still open? It's pretty late.”

He just grins, walking into the street and calling out directions.

Finally, they get there, and even Walker has to stop and stare for a minute, because the Winter Village is beautiful.

Right in front of them is a large marbled fountain, with tiny fir trees circling it, each adorned with a little red bow. To their sides are these greenhouse-shaped stalls, selling souvenirs and X-mas merch and handmade tchotchkes from around the world. Further back is a small ice skating rink, half the size of a basketball court, bordered by large posts on which wreaths are hung. A coffee shop is tucked away in the far corner. But the real head-turner is the fifty-foot Christmas tree, sparkling brilliantly like an Asgardian rainbow bridge.

“I know, right?” Bob says to the uncommonly silent Thunderbolts. “And we have it to ourselves for the next few hours.”

Yelena snaps out of it then, looking at him with curiosity. “What do you mean, all to ourselves?”

“Now that you mention it,” Ava says while looking around, muffled behind her scarf, “why is this place so empty?”

“Well, none of us felt like being around other people, right?” Everyone mumbles their agreement. “Yeah, so, I asked this very nice man who works for the park if we could do, like, an after-hours thing, since we're the New Avengers. I maxed out my Tower card to do it, by the way, so I can't get groceries anymore. So yeah!” He beams at all of them, his cheeks fuschia pink from the cold. Then his smile falters a little. “D’you like it?”

Everyone gives their half-hearted approval, and Alexei claps him on the back with a teeth-chattering grin. Walker, though, is still gazing out at the tree, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Alright, troops,” Bucky says, looking away from Bob so he can frown properly, “fan out.” The others start exploring the village, but Bob’s quietly approaching Walker, who still hasn’t turned away from the tree.

“Hey.” Walker tilts his head up slightly, acknowledging Bob’s presence, so he presses forward. “I saw this little ceramic dish in a window that looks like a shield. ‘S got stripes and everything.”

He waits patiently for any type of response. Eventually, Walker lets out a big, long exhale, his breath turning to a wispy cloud in the cold air. “Fine,” he grumbles, turning to walk into a greenhouse.

“Fine what?” Bob asks innocently, following anyway.

“Fine, I’ll…go into the stupid greenhouse and look at the stupid shield plate in this stupid Christmas Village.” Bob smirks. “Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, well, I can hear your—” He gestures vaguely at Bob’s head, before catching sight of a wall of handmade fridge magnets, his eyes growing wide. “—thoughts.”

“I didn't know the super soldier stuff could do that,” Bob quips. 

Walker ignores him, reaching a hesitant hand out to a Romanian landscape magnet.

“Oookay then. I'll leave you and the wall alone.”

It went without saying that this was a good opportunity for buying Christmas presents, and they all really jumped at it.

Alexei goes nuts over Russian nesting dolls, as expected, and buys maybe ten of them. Ava shoplifts (just because she can) a bunch of jewelry, these gold-embossed notebooks, and a very nice-looking shawl. Yelena carefully picks out a hand-carved wooden sculpture corresponding to the personality of each of her teammates. Bob tries to limit himself to just five Christmas ornaments, but ends up buying thirteen because he can’t not get all of them. Walker pulls down a few fridge magnets after long consideration, and gets this adorable multicolored teddy bear for his son. When Bucky just gets a gift bag full of socks, Yelena calls him boring, so he huffs and nabs the first baseball cap he sees (“World’s Okayest Fisherman”) (which is 100% going to Sam, by the way).

After roaming the shops for maybe the third time, Bob feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, um,” Walker starts quietly, hands shoved deep in his pockets, “do you know if the rink is open?”

“The ice skating rink?”

“No, the roller skating rink," Walker deadpans, "because we time traveled to the 80s tonight. Yeah man, the huge fucking ice skating rink right over there.” He points a pocket out the window of the greenhouse without removing his hands. “Can I go on it or not?”

“I mean, you need skates, but yeah! Lemme ask the others if they wanna go.” 

“GUYS!!” They both whip around at Alexei’s distant bellow. “I FOUND VODKA!!”

The village is actually empty, meaning it’s devoid of any cashiers or security guards or anyone responsible for the park. That means nobody stopped Alexei when he rummaged through the cabinets of the coffee shop and found a few bottles of cheap vodka. Further searching procured a Jack Daniels bottle that was almost full with some pearly, iridescent liquid and a taped-over label: “NEW ASGARD”.

“Wow, Alexei, great find,” Bucky says, inspecting a bottle and grinning. “You know, if this is from New Asgard, it’s going to work on us. Yeah, their liquor is made differently, so it bypasses all that metabolism bullshit that stops super-soldiers from getting drunk.”

Walker turns around from where he and Ava are inspecting a closet, his mouth dropping open.

A few shots later, Yelena and Bob come back with skates, and Ava finds something worthwhile: hockey sticks. That's how the first unofficial inter-team Thunderbolts hockey game commences.

Walker insists on being a team captain because of course he'd want to be, while Yelena becomes the other captain just by firmly proclaiming Ava and Bob are on her team. This makes Walker complain about his team being disadvantaged, but it's an even split. Yelena and Walker are very competitive, Ava and Bucky are very indifferent, and Bob and Alexei are the only two who can handle themselves on the ice.

The second Ava steps into the rink, she slips and falls headfirst into the ice, phasing into the ground so only her legs are visible. When Yelena tries to pull her out, she sends both of them tumbling to the ground. Alexei skates over easily to help the girls out, then fusses over the state of their laces and redoes them properly. Apparently, ice skating is the most accessible sport in rural Russia.

When Bucky enters the rink, he's got an ironclad grip on the railing and is moving at a glacial pace across the ice. He curses every time his foot wobbles.

Bob isn't as good as Alexei, but he knows how to roller skate, making his balance much, much better than Walker’s. The two boys have their arms interlocked, and Bob gently instructs Walker on how to put one foot in front of the other without falling on his ass (he falls anyway). 

After about half an hour of getting comfortable (and half an hour of Alexei and Bob teaching everyone to move without crashing to the ground), Walker tosses hockey sticks to everyone but himself and Ava, the goalkeepers. Then he pulls out a pair of socks, nicked from Bucky’s gift bag, and rolls it up so it's shaped like a hockey puck.

“Let's play ball!” Alexei shouts, raising his stick in the air like a battle cry. Bucky shrugs and raises his stick too.

“Let's play some motherfucking ball.”

11:27 PM. The same Sunday in December.

They're really, really bad at hockey. 

Like, laughably bad. Either they're moving so fast they fall, or they're moving so slowly the puck shoots far out of their reach.

Walker's trying to coach Alexei and Bucky from his goal box, but they just yell back to shut up. They're very uncoordinated, especially against Yelena and Bob, who are moving like the machines from Pacific Rim that mentally connect their co-pilots.

“God, Alexei, eye on the fucking puck!” Bucky shouts as Yelena steals it from her dad and passes to Bob.

“WALKER IS DISTRACTING ME,” he yells back, face red. Bob fakes Bucky out and maneuvers past him, passing back to Yelena.

“Whooooo!! Go, Team Kid!” Ava cheers distantly as Yelena manages to score between Walker's legs. The members of Team Dad groan.

“New rule: the team that scores gets to take a shot,” Yelena declares, skating over to the edge and opening a new bottle of vodka.

“Okay, new rule: if we save a goal, we get to take a shot,” Walker adds, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

“Fine by me,” Ava says, taking a swig. “It’s not like you lot will be doing either.”

Yelena and Bob both go “Oooooh”, and Walker frowns.

“New rule: no phones on the ice,” he says in return.

Ava frowns, pocketing her cellphone.

As they play, they get increasingly competitive, as well as increasingly drunk. Ava starts commentating like she's on bootleg ESPN, which works to Team Dad’s advantage, as they're able to get two goals in while she's distracted. Yelena comes over and has a loud argument with her about it, but Ava just switches to singing Christmas songs, loudly and off-key.

Walker eventually asks Bucky to switch roles, and he skates to the center of the rink with the grace of a baby deer. “You’re gonna eat our dust, Lena ‘n Bob,” he says, slurring his words a little. “Our ice dust.”

“Nuh uh,” Bob counters, hat askew.

“Yeah huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Oh my God,” Yelena shouts, swinging her stick around. “Can we play? Fucking lightweights,” she adds in Russian. That makes Alexei laugh loudly.

Yelena and Bob score another two; Bucky’s stiff as a board out of fear of falling, and unwilling to sacrifice his body for the game. Walker's just about ready to throw hands with everyone in the rink. The whiskey combined with the freezing air and his sore loser-ness makes his face redder than a tomato. 

Finally, he makes a shot, and their sock puck goes flying over Ava's head and out of the rink. “YESSSS!!!” he shouts, his voice cracking. He starts fist pumping and shadowboxing Alexei in excitement while shouting “YES YES YES YES YES!!”

“Hey, that shouldn't count,” Yelena protests, skating over.

“Yelenaaaa, give us a chaaaaance, umnichka,” Alexei says affectionately, grabbing his daughter and pulling her into a tight and suffocating bear hug. “Your kid team has so many goals, give your dad just one, okay?”

Yelena lets out a muffled groan. “Fine. Okay, okay, get off,” she says when he doesn't let go. “Your cologne makes me dizzy.”

“Can we leave now? I’m freezing,” Ava complains. She tries to brush hair out of her face, but her hand is trembling and phasing away.

“I’m tired,” Yelena adds with a frown, resting her head against her dad.

“And I’m hungry, can we go get something to eat?” Bob asks. Bucky leans on him for support as he makes his way across the rink.

“But I just scored!” Walker cries. “C’mon, five more minutes—”

“Walker.” Bucky pushes off of Bob and steps forward carefully to put his arm around Walker's shoulders instead. “It’s been almost two hours.” (It hasn't, but Bucky's okay with lying to him.) “Let’s go home, buddy.”

He sighs loudly, letting his body go limp like it pains him to listen, but obliges and steps off the ice. “Whatever. We won anyway.”

Walker then yelps as Yelena jumps on top of him with fury and outrage, pinning him to the ground, ice skates be damned.

12:33 AM. On a (technically) Monday in December.

The only place nearby that is both open and offering food is a 7-Eleven a few blocks away, so the Thunderbolts tug off their ice skates and make the arduous 9-minute trek downtown.

Ava nearly screams in delight when she steps through the door of the heated convenience store, and curls up in a corner on the ground with a party-size bag of chips. Bob grabs a magazine and a lighter, joining Ava on the ground.

“Since when do you have weed?” Ava says, surprised. Bob’s pulled out a small baggie from his jacket pocket, and is now rolling a joint with the magazine paper, almost like it’s second nature.

“Since always,” Bob replies. He lights the finished joint and takes a big drag. “D’you wanna try?” Smoke billows from his mouth as he speaks. Ava nods, and shares the joint with him as he sneaks Doritos from her bag. They flip through the magazine and make fun of the articles about themselves.

Soon, Yelena and Walker come to sit with them, bearing food. Walker took an empty donut tray and filled it with taquitos; one sticks out of his mouth like a cigar. Yelena's arms are filled with bags of candy, and she doles out a bag to each of them. She’s arguing with Walker about—something or other, it’s not really important (never is). Bob rolls another joint, because somehow the weed is helping Ava get her phasing under control.

In the far back, Alexei’s strolling by the fridges with his hands clasped behind his back, leaning down and inspecting each box of soda like he’s auditing the store. The Slurpee machines catch his eye, and he rushes forward, testing each flavor by pouring it into his hand and licking it off. 

Bucky catches sight of this and spins around with a grimace, not wanting to get involved. He takes a big swig of whiskey, roaming the aisles aimlessly, eventually picking up a bag of popcorn and reaching behind the counter for a pack of cigarettes.

He plans to set up camp close enough to the kids to intervene if the argument calls for it, but far enough to not have to talk. Bucky crashes to the ground with a sigh just as Bob gets up to get a donut.

“Finally! Gimme the bottle,” Walker says, making grabby hands. “Hey,” he starts after taking a sip, “who'd you think’s gonna win in a fight, me or a gorilla?”

“Gorilla.”

“Me versus the gorilla.”

“Gorilla,” Ava answers for him through a mouthful of gummy bears.

“No, but in a fight.”

“Still gorilla.” Yelena glances over at Bucky with an ‘is this guy serious’ face. He bites back a smile.

“But I have my serum!”

They all repeat something along the lines of “the gorilla would still win”.

“Whatever,” Walker scoffs, “you guys don't get it.” He takes a bite of taquito and throws a couple Sour Patch Kids in his mouth, swallowing both at the same time. “What?” he says softly when he sees the blatant disgust on Yelena’s face.

Bob starts laughing hysterically all of a sudden, a few aisles in front of them. Everyone tilts their head up, trying to see without actually getting up.

“What's so funny?” Ava calls out, brow furrowed.

“I—” Bob breaks off, unable to talk without giggling. Finally, he calms down enough to speak. “There are action figures of us over here, and—oh my god,” he starts laughing before he can finish, walking back over to them. “Look who's on clearance.”

He holds up a small U.S. Agent bobblehead, a bright yellow and red tag on his chest.

Ava and Yelena roar with laughter, falling on top of each other. “Wow, it looks just like you,” Bucky says, not even trying to hide his glee. “Must be why it's—85% off.” He breaks off into a laugh, high and giddy.

Walker jumps to his feet and moves past Bob to get to that row, his face falling. “How the fuck is Alexei getting bought more than me?”

“I’m very popular with Eastern European men over 50,” the man says over his shoulder, hiccuping. “I got you Slurpee,” he adds, pushing the cup into Bucky’s hands with a dopey grin. His tongue and lips are bright artificial red.

“Thanks,” Bucky says, still smirking at Walker. He takes a small sip and his face scrunches up.

“Ach, I love the holiday season,” Alexei says to nobody in particular, a blissful smile on his face. 

“Busy time of the year for you, huh, Santa Comrade,” Bob says as he situates himself between Bucky and Ava.

“Bob. I meant the feelings. Everyone is so excited, spending time with the loved ones, enjoying family time together.”

“I wouldn’t call us a family,” Walker grumbles, looking morose.

“But look! Look how happy we are!” Alexei gestures at his team, who all are either drunk or high or both, huddled on the ground of a 7-Eleven. Not very picturesque.

But Bob's head is resting on Ava's shoulder, and the girls are using Walker's jacket as a throw blanket, and Alexei got Bucky a blue raspberry slushee that's kind of growing on him. He's right; they kind of are a family now.

“I guess this isn't a bad way to spend the holidays,” Bucky remarks.

“Yes, let's do this whole thing over again on Saturday,” Yelena deadpans.

“Oh my God,” Alexei interrupts, face pressed against the glass door. “A shooter star!” He points at a faint streak of light making its way across the sky.

“Shooting star, Alexei,” Ava corrects. He just waves her off.

“Come, come, come, let's look outside.” Everyone slowly gets to their feet and follows him out the door.

“How is a shooting star visible in the city?” Bob asks Yelena quietly. “There's too much light pollution.”

“Are they usually red?” she whispers back. 

They all squint up into the sky as the shooting star burns brighter, shining like a beacon of light. It seems to be much closer to the ground than they thought, bobbing and weaving through skyscrapers.

“Yeah, I don't think that's a—”

Bucky's cut off by the shooting star colliding straight into the Avengers Tower, driving into its side and coming out the other end, just below the balcony. The upper half of the tower is severed from the body. The Thunderbolts watch it creak monstrously until it finally tips over and crashes to the ground in flames.

The shooting star is still there, flickering in the sky like a destructive firefly, and Walker finally remembers where he's seen that distinctive shade of red before.

It’s Radhika.

Chapter Text

12:51 AM. On a (technically) Monday in December.

They’re all frozen to the spot at first, eyes glued to the Tower as debris falls from its now-peak-less top. Then slowly, their gaze shifts to the perpetrator of the crime.

“Is that…” Yelena starts, wide-eyed.

“That’s Radhika, yeah,” Walker finishes morosely. He’s squinting, trying to make out her face.

“Since when does she fly?”

“More important question, Bob, is why did she just tear the Tower a new one?” Ava huffs, pulling her coat tighter around herself.

Bob looks at Bucky, who’s staring up at the sky, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Do you think Valentina has something to do with this?”

He glances over at Bob. “Probably,” he sighs, “but we’re working for Valentina, so it doesn’t make any—”

“Fuck.” Walker looks back at the others, a panicked look on his face. “She saw us.”

“…So then we run!” Yelena exclaims after nobody says anything. She grabs Bob’s jacket sleeve and takes off in the opposite direction. 

The others follow, and the Thunderbolts run as fast as they can while Radhika trails behind. Yelena suddenly jerks, left, then right, a few times to try and shake her off their trail. It kind of works, because she stops following them, but instead rises higher than the skyscrapers.

They cross through an empty playground, and that’s when Radhika flies back down, hitting the ground so hard the concrete ripples around her and the playground equipment catches on fire. The force of the impact knocks the team back, and they all fall to the ground.

As he stands up, Walker rubs dirt out of his eyes and sees Radhika standing eerily still. There’s a blank expression on her face as she stares without blinking at—her eyes are completely red, he realizes, horrified.

“Holy shit,” Yelena groans, rolling her shoulders and standing straight. “You look like a monster.”

Radhika doesn’t respond, but merely stares into Yelena like she’s trying to shoot lasers out of her eyes (not impossible, she thinks). She really does look like the stuff of nightmares; her suit is pure white with silver accents, but the protective outer layer is melting and dripping down her body, letting the red interior peek through. 

“What is it with Val and capes?” Bob says, pushing himself up.

“She gave you bangs? You don’t have the forehead for that!” Ava exclaims, pulling down her mask from within her coat.

“Silver arm is a little on the nose, no?” Alexei pants, clutching his side. Bucky’s looking at Radhika’s left sleeve, covered in silver embroidery, with a miserable look on his face. 

“I really don't think you guys, of all people, should be criticizing her image.” The small walkie talkie at Radhika's hip vibrates as Valentina’s tinny voice comes through. The girl herself continues to stare blankly at her almost-team.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Walker’s voice is dripping with venom. He wishes he could reach into the walkie talkie, drag Valentina out, and strangle her. 

“I fixed her,” Val says proudly. “I realized where I went wrong with Robert, I gave him too much independence. Now, Radhika doesn’t have to think so hard about what she’s doing, she can just do.”

“So you gave her a fucking lobotomy?” Bob yelps.

“I thought you agreed not to intervene.” Bucky’s voice is hoarse as he steps closer to Radhika, trying and failing to find the whites of her eyes.

“And I wouldn’t have, if you guys had made any goddamn progress with recruiting her.” Her voice crackles with static. “Oh, by the way, the New Avengers are officially disbanded.”

“What?” Ava and Yelena say, at the same time, in the same bewildered tone.

“Valentina,” Alexei pleads, “maybe we can come to some arraignment if you—”

“Shut up, Alexei,” she snaps, and he falls silent. “I don’t know why this is so surprising when you’re all very aware that you guys suck. I have Radhika now, so there’s no need for any more media liabilities or human money pits.”

“You’re a fucking cunt, Val,” Yelena calls out.

“Right back at you, sweetheart. Radhika,” Val suddenly starts. “Continue your current mission. Powers restricted to level one, weapons clearance denied.”

Radhika snaps into position, glowing red eyes locking on the closest person: Walker. He holds his hands up in a half-surrender, taking a single step back.

“Okay,” he starts, and she flies up to wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze hard.

Walker scratches at her arms, failing to get her hands off, and dimly wonders when Radhika got so strong. Her feet press against his hips, pushing herself away as her grip tightens.

Bucky rips her off of Walker's body, so she whips around and punches him in the jaw. He staggers back a little, which she uses as an opportunity to pry her fingers into the joint of his left shoulder, using her other hand to push his face away. 

Searing, intense heat laps at his nerves, and his flesh gives way enough for her to start peeling his arm’s implant plate from his body. He cries out, weakly pushing her away with his other hand. She doesn't get far before Ava reaches into her back and pulls her away by her spine.

Huffing, Radhika kicks her leg back so Ava will let go. Yelena’s pulled her gun out by now, and she shoots a rapid-fire round at Radhika's stomach. She just flicks her fingers, and they melt mid-air.

Alexei roars and charges at her, but she's too quick for him. Radhika swerves, jumps on his shoulder blades, and kicks off, sending him into a faceplant.

Walker tries to land a punch, but she blocks it, so he sweeps her legs out from under her and pins her to the ground. A swift knee to the groin, and she's able to flip them. Yelena shoves her off and tries to shoot her entire clip into Radhika's forehead, but it bounces off and enters the muscle of Alexei’s leg. While Yelena's distracted by her dad's groaning, Radhika grabs the gun and melts it shut with her palm, then pulls the trigger. The gun explodes, and gunpowder falls like burning snow on Yelena's face, causing her to scream in agony.

Walker pulls Yelena off Radhika, so she retaliates by grabbing his forearm and burning through his flesh until his muscle is exposed. Ava plunges a knife in Radhika's thigh, but she doesn't do more than flinch. Walker can't get her to let go, tears running down his face as he yanks on her arm frantically.

Bucky gets her to let go by dislocating her other arm. Walker falls to the ground, clutching his arm and gritting his teeth. Radhika stands up, dodges Bucky’s right hook swing, and reaches in midair to catch Ava’s invisible wrist, knife in hand. She takes the knife and stabs Ava in the chest with it, then turns around and kicks Bucky in the chest.

She reaches for his arm socket, but Alexei pushes her to the ground and tries to crush her skull. He winces in pain and pulls away before he can, his hands covered in welts and 2nd degree burns. She twists to lie on her side, and uses Alexei's body to fix her dislocated arm. When he tries to push her down again, her clenched fist opens, and he's blown to the ground by some unseen force.

Bucky lunges for her again but she punches his lower stomach, making him double down in pain. She grabs his head and knees it so he collapses to the floor unconscious. Wiping away blood dripping from her lip, she stalks towards him, ready to finish the job.

Then Bob grabs Radhika's hand, and they disappear in the blink of an eye, their shadow burning an imprint onto the ground.

When Bob opens his eyes, he's alone.

He's sitting cross-legged in the midst of the dance floor. Neon strobe lights draw circles on the crowd, illuminating the room. People bump hips, grind on each other, and press too close for comfort. The air smells of alcohol, sweat, and a potent combination of different perfumes.

Bob scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting hit in the face with someone's elbow. He figures that somewhere in this club is Radhika, or a younger version of her, and maybe she'll help him find the real Radhika. Like, the one he knows now. 

He's not exactly sure, though, what will happen. The handful of times he practiced using his powers ended with him either becoming Sentry and the Void, or him collapsing and being unconscious for days at a time. And he's never been on the receiving end of his powers, he's just guessing based on the little his friends have told him.

Bob is combing the crowd, starting to wonder whether this was a good idea or not, when he hears her name. Whipping his head around, he sees this teenage boy sitting at the bar to the side, talking animatedly to the person next to him. He pushes people aside—apologizing as he goes—and sees a teenage Radhika, chin resting on her hand, watching this boy with a bored expression on her face.

“—So Michael has to start doing crime again to pay the drug lord guy back, and he gets Franklin to work with him, and this other guy who's their hacker, and the rob a jewelry story, and because they do, Trevor comes back—”

“Arthur,” Radhika finally interrupts, sitting up straight, “I am not interested in Grand Theft Auto 6, I came here—”

“It's 5.”

Radhika does a slow blink, the one Bob fondly recognizes as Bucky’s. “What?”

“It's 5, GTA 6 hasn't come out yet,” Arthur explains.

She sighs. “Can we just make out?”

Arthur grins, then realizes something and blushes. “But, aren't you still dating—”

“—Yeah, but that doesn't matter,” Radhika answers, a little too quickly if Bob's being honest.

Arthur's brows furrow. “Are you sure?”

“Ugh, yes, Arthur,” she says, hopping down from her stool and leaning up to meet his lips.

Bob makes a face and looks away as their kiss deepens, taking a step back. His foot makes a clink sound on a loose tile of the dance floor, and after thinking a moment, he stomps on the tile until it gives.

He falls through the broken tile, and lands on his back in some hotel room. It's really fancy, everything from the curtains to the furniture in that pale beige-gold color that reeks of wealth. It's big, too, and he can hear voices coming from the other side of the hallway. Standing up and brushing glass off his clothes, he tiptoes to the end of the hallway to hear—crying?

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Radhika?” the other girl says through her tears.

“How do you even have that picture?” Radhika asks instead.

“Oh my God, that is not an important question to ask right now.” Bob peeks his head out to see a girl standing with her phone out, eyes red like she's been crying for hours. In the mirror behind her, he can see Radhika, leaning against the wall with an air of annoyance, arms folded.

“I don't even understand why you're crying,” Radhika says dryly, almost like she's tired.

“You fucking cheated on me!” The other girl's voice reaches a pitch that makes Bob's ears sting.

“I didn't cheat on you,” Radhika says.

“Then how the fuck do you explain this?” The girl wipes her tears away with the sides of her fingers, looking up and pouting.

“It doesn't matter,” Radhika sighs, throwing her hands up. “None of this does.”

“None of this matters?!” the girl exclaims. “I thought you loved me.”

For the first time, Radhika shows a bit of remorse, looking down. Bob leans out from the hallway.

“I don't love anyone,” she says quietly.

The girl huffs through her tears. “You're so full of shit, Radhika. And—WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?” She shrieks, catching Bob peering out from the entryway.

Bob’s face turns red. “Oh—sorry, I, um—didn’t know you could see me.” He laughs awkwardly. Radhika pushes off the wall to see him, and she tilts her head, as if she recognized him.

“I—um,” he starts, backing up, “I’m just gonna go, if that’s okay.” He turns around and runs to the end of the hallway, hearing the girl start to sob hysterically and Radhika consoling her in a flat voice.

When Bob opens the door, he slips on the welcome mat and falls face-first on concrete. Miraculously, his nose isn’t broken, but his raw skin aches like hell. Distantly, he hears a woman call out Radhika’s name, so he jumps to his feet.

He’s in the parking lot of an elementary school. Right around the end of the school day, judging by the swarm of little kids running around on the strip of grass by the sidewalk. The woman calls out Radhika’s name again, so he turns around.

A young girl walks over to the woman, her posture a little droopy, her demeanor a little gloomy. Bob takes a few steps closer, trying not to catch the attention of—must be her mother, he guesses.

“Did you tell them?” Radhika’s mother says crisply. She nods, avoiding her mother’s eyes. “And what did they say?”

She mumbles something, still staring at her shoes. “What?” her mother asks, a little meanly if Bob’s being honest.

“They got so mad at me,” little Radhika repeats quietly, her lips pressing together. Silent tears spill down her cheeks, but her mother’s at an angle where only Bob can see her fight to keep her composure. “They—they said I was mean, and I was a bad friend.”

“Well, you didn’t need them anyway,” her mother says briskly, patting Radhika gently on the shoulder. “It’s good you cut them off now, we have no time for this sort of thing in New York. Now, come, we still have to pack the vans.”

Radhika’s mother enters the backseat of the car, but before Radhika can go around to the other side, Bob grabs her hand.

“What—” she starts, pulling away, before recognizing Bob. Her hand goes limp. “You.”

“Me,” he answers hurriedly, letting go. “Radhika, I need to find you. Please—please bring me to you, I just want to help, and then we can both stop being in your mind.”

She pulls her hand away, taking him in before answering, eyes narrowed. He’s seen the same look maybe a hundred times on Bucky’s face, and his mind smiles at the mental image before it immediately switches to Bucky, unconscious on the floor in the cold, covered in other people’s blood.

“Okay,” she finally says, “okay, get in the car.” She opens the door for him, and he ducks his head to enter.

As you might have guessed, Bob does not see the interior of a BMW when he lifts his head. For time’s sake, I will summarize his adventures in Radhika’s shame rooms to be more concise.

Bob enters the car and finds himself at Radhika’s mother’s funeral. Radhika gets very, very drunk, and uses her speech to publicly berate her mother for giving her attachment issues and making her the “fuck-up” (her words) she currently is. During her speech, she suffers a very strong episode, and the whole funeral home collapses in on itself.

After exiting through the double doors, Bob enters several memories that have to do with Radhika’s episodes destroying the things around her. One time, it was a movie theater that burst into flames; another, it was a plane that crashed shortly after taking flight. In one memory, Radhika gets incredibly drunk and has an episode that simply demolishes her cottage and knocks her unconscious. After an hour or so, she wakes up and reluctantly starts building her house again.

Bob is forced to go down her chimney to leave this last memory, and finds himself at a place he recognizes: the Freedom Tower. The familiarity fades in a split second, though, as Bob is scared shitless; he’s just been dropped onto the edge (the edge!) of a rung on the tower’s spire, a little less than 1,800 feet above ground.

Looking down and immediately regretting it, Bob takes as many steps back as he can, back pressed up against the spire. He closes his eyes and tries to regulate his breathing, vigorously reminding himself he has to be calm to save his friends. Once he’s relaxed—as relaxed as an acrophobic can get on the tallest building in the Western Hemisphere—he opens his eyes again.

Radhika is not in his view at all, so he curses himself, then takes a tiny step to the right. A few tiny-steps later, and he can see her out of the corner of his eye. She’s sitting on the ledge of the rung, head resting in her hands, staring out at the sunset in front of them.

“Hey—Hey, Radhika,” Bob pants, and woah he’s out of breath, “what, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Killing myself,” she replies without missing a beat or looking at him. Yikes.

Bob makes a big effort to slowly, slowly sit down on the rung next to her. “Are you…waiting for something?”

She nods, almost imperceptibly. “Once the sun sets.”

“Ah. Naturally.”

Radhika turns her head to look at him. “You gonna talk me out of it?”

Bob shrugs, hoping his alternative approach doesn’t lead to him dying inside her mind and his friends bleeding out in the park. “It’s your call.”

“Huh,” Radhika says, tilting her head a little. She turns back to the sunset.

A beat, then—“You have to apologize, you know. Before you go off and kill yourself.”

“…To who?”

“Hmm, well, let’s see,” he starts breezily, “to the whole team, for almost killing them, to Walker for making him fall in love with you—”

“I didn’t make him fall in love with me,” she interjects, fully turning around to face him.

“—And to me, for trying to kill yourself when I spent the last hour trying to save you!”

“But why?” Radhika exclaims. “Why—why try to recruit me, and invite me to fucking Thanksgiving dinner, and hunt me down to stop me from doing everyone a favor and jumping off this building?” She pauses, her mouth twisting as she tries not to cry. “Why do you guys want to help me?”

Bob reaches out to hold her hand. “Look, we—we all know what it’s like to feel alone. You’re lonely for so long, you start thinking that’s the way life works, the way things have to be. But it’s not. Believe me, it’s not.”

He pauses, trying to think of something to say next. Then his eyes light up. “Okay, um, one time, when we first started being the New Avengers, the three of them were on a mission. Ava and Alexei were going to cover Yelena while she did some computer stuff. All of a sudden, Ava’s suit stops working, and her phasing flares up big-time. She was flickering in and out, and she was in such pain all she could do was hide in some dark corner and try to control her phasing. A big wave of security guards, or soldiers, or whatever, got past her, and they would have killed Yelena if Alexei didn’t show up.

“Ava didn’t come home with them.” Radhika looks up, her teary eyes filled with concern. “They never found her, so we all assumed she died. Two weeks later, Bucky flies to Argentina and finds Ava hiding in some shitty safe apartment in Rosario. She wanted to quit the team, because if she couldn’t control her powers, she was a danger to the people around her.”

“Wait, so—so how’d she come back?” Radhika asks, sniffling.

“Well, then Bucky called to tell us she was alive, so we got to Rosario as fast as we could. God, you should have seen Yelena. I’ve never seen someone cry so much. Like—happy tears. There was a lot of hugging and a lot of ‘I’ll kill you if you pull something like that again,’ and arguing, you know, stuff like that. And then she realized.”

“Realized what?”

Bob smiles. “That we wanted her. All of her, you know, the sarcasm, and the stealing our food, and the glitchy powers, and making fun of Walker.” Radhika giggles despite herself. “And yeah, since then, her phasing has gotten a little better—she still has bad days, we all do. But even if they didn’t, we’d still want her.”

Radhika looks down at her lap, tears spilling down her cheeks. “And you guys want me?” she says hesitantly.

Bob nods, that warm smile still on his face. “If you’ll have us, then yeah.”

It’s at this point that Radhika breaks down into tears, so Bob pulls her into an embrace and tries to comfort her while also being very aware of their position on the ledge.

After a long moment, when Radhika’s breathing has evened, and she isn’t sniffling as much, she mumbles something into Bob’s sweater. “What?” he says distractedly, still looking at the distant city beneath them.

She breaks their hug and wipes the tear streaks off her face, smiling a little. “I said, thanks. For that—” she gestures between them. “You’d make a great hotline caller.”

Bob glances at her with a smile, then does a double take. “Hey, so, uh, now that you’re feeling better. How do we get out of here?”

Radhika’s smile drops. “What do you mean? I thought you knew how to get out of here.”

“What? How would I know?”

She levels him with an are-you-serious stare. “How’d you get in here, then?”

“Well, just because I can get in doesn’t mean—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Radhika groans. “Are we stuck in here?”

“Look, just-just give me a minute here, all right?” Bob says, bringing his hands together and crouching over, trying hard to brainstorm.

Radhika sighs and rubs the nape of her neck with her hand. She feels a slight bump in her skin and stops moving. 

“Hey, can you take a look at this?” she asks, rubbing her finger over the bump, and yeah, there’s definitely something under her skin.

“What—ew, I don’t want to look at your pimple,” Bob says, bringing his hands away and wrinkling his nose.

“No, it’s not a pimple. I feel like there’s metal here…” she trails off.

Bob leans closer as she twists to show the bump in her neck. Pressing gently, then more firmly, he can feel something hard that’s shaped like an LED bulb. The skin over it looks grafted on, but it’s healed too much for him to just peel it off. “Do you remember getting surgery done, when you were with Valentina?”

“No, but she did say she was going to try and suppress my powers.”

He laughs darkly, pulling out a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. “Obviously, that didn’t work.”

“What?” Radhika says, turning around. “What do you mean?”

Bob feels more confused than she probably is. “I—Radhika, why do you think I’m here?”

She shrugs. “I thought you were just trying to recruit me again.”

Bob quickly summarizes her attack, and she blanches. “Oh—oh my God.” She grabs his sweater sleeve. “That’s what you meant, almost killing the team.”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re bleeding out as we speak, now can you—” he spins his finger around impatiently. 

“I’m really sorry, though,” Radhika says as she turns, baring her neck to Bob. “I—Valentina told me—” She winces audibly when he cuts into her skin with the knife. 

“Sorry, this is gonna hurt,” he apologizes, sticking his tongue out with concentration as he carves around the implant.

“It’s fine, it’s just pain.”

“It’s not your fault, by the way,” Bob adds after a while, wiping away blood to see the implant. He grimaces a little; it has wires like octopus arms reaching out to her spinal cord and brain. “Valentina preys on the vulnerable.”

“Yeah,” Radhika agrees with a sigh. “Why haven’t you guys killed her yet?”

Bob tilts his head to see the next wire. “Funding,” snip, “blackmail,” snip, “moral objections,” snip, “take your pick.” Carefully, he pulls out the little implant, careful not to disturb the wires still attached to her. “I’m definitely bringing it up when we get back, though.”

Radhika turns around, wincing again as the movement makes a fresh stream of blood course down her neck. “Is that it?” she asks, nodding at the tiny nugget of steel in his palm.

Bob nods. “You wanna do the honors?”

She smiles, so he places it on the floor of the rung. Standing up, Radhika lifts one foot in the air, preparing to stomp on the implant.

“God, I hope this doesn’t kill me,” she says breathlessly.

“Amen—”

CRUNCH.

Chapter Text

8:25 AM. On a Friday in December.

When Radhika wakes up, it’s from the most wonderful dream. She was painting a park on a big canvas, one she needed a step-stool for to reach the top. And every time she painted something, it came to life: maple trees rustled with an imaginary breeze, dogs jumped mid-air to catch frisbees, pigeons darted from bench to bench. And the people pushed strollers or sprawled out on picnic blankets or jogged with headphones on. 

She painted herself last of all, sitting on the green. Painting-Radhika didn't move at all, though. She stayed frozen in place, staring blankly at the grass. Frustrated, Radhika added other people next to painting-her, in hopes they could coax her to move. And lo and behold, with her last brushstroke, all seven came to life at once. But before she could recognize painting-her’s companions, she woke up.

She opens her eyes a little, then squeezes them shut: the sun is right in front of her window, so the room is far too bright for her liking.

Bit by bit, her view expands, and she gets to see more of her surroundings. She's in a hospital room, but it's like none she's ever seen. The walls are painted a dark emerald green with black accents, and her bed has a real, wooden frame, judging from the raised footboard.

Check on yourself now, explore later, Radhika reminds herself. She can feel all her body parts, which is a relief. She checks the condition of her body by stretching her neck, rolling her shoulders, shaking the pins and needles out of her legs—stiff, but still working. Her thigh feels particularly sore, and the nape of her neck has some sort of tingling sensation. But—and her mouth drops in shock when she fully realizes—she's not burning.

She could cry with the immense relief she's feeling. For the first time in over a decade, her nervous system isn't inflamed beyond feeling. Her body isn't on fire anymore. Dimly, she wonders about her powers, but brushes it off to allow herself a 5-second party in her mind.

There's a glossy monitor hanging to her right, and she can make out her name and her pulse, but little else without her contacts (the writing doesn’t seem to be English, anyway (?)). Catheters travel from her wrist to a little hole in the bed where they disappear from view. She turns to her left and almost jumps off the bed with shock.

John Walker is sleeping upright, in a large maroon armchair against the windows, in her hospital room. Radhika grins at the sight of his face, his droopy mouth and scruffy hair, but her smile fades when she really starts taking him in.

He's wearing a hospital gown, for starters. Unlike her, though, he’s got on flannel pajama bottoms underneath. His face is littered with cuts and irritated skin. Bruises like fingerprints dot his neck. His right forearm is covered in bandages, and he's starting to bleed through them. Slowly, by reading Walker, Radhika starts to remember.

The smell of flesh burning, the feeling of hands pulling her back.

Yelena’s screams of agony.

Ava’s eyes bulging out when she gets stabbed.

Tears streaming down Walker’s cheeks.

An acidic aftertaste starts to build in the back of her throat, but before she can start properly throwing up from guilt, someone pushes her door open.

“Walker, let’s go, we’re gonna be late for break—” Bob abruptly stops talking when he sees Radhika, who forces a smile and swallows her anguish down for the moment. Instantly, the worry melts away from his face.

“You're awake!” he shouts, running to the left side of the bed to give Radhika what she thinks is the biggest hug of her life, and she's laughing but also tearing up a little, and mainly squeezing Bob with all her strength. Behind them, Walker jolts awake.

“Oh my God,” she hears her raspy voice saying, over and over again like she’s in shock. Eventually Bob leans back to scan her face, the furrow in his brow coming back. She notes that he looks completely unharmed, but has dark shadows under his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” she says, and he beams again. “Are you, everyone else, are they okay?”

“Yeah, they're okay, they're all upstairs. Oh my God, wait, I'm—they don't know—” He jumps up and moves away from the bed. “Stay right here,” he calls, and then the door's swinging behind him.

“Like you’re going somewhere,” Walker quips, getting to his feet. Radhika’s mouth twitches. She slowly adjusts herself to sit on the edge of the bed.

Here comes the awkwardness. “Hi,” she says hesitantly. Immediately his face reminds her of why she was feeling incredibly nauseous a minute ago.

“Hey,” he replies, his expression clouding as he remembers their argument on Thanksgiving.

“Um,” she starts, then pauses. “Do you—do you know why we’re in…”

“Wakanda?” Walker finishes for her. Radhika’s eyes go wide, making him chuckle a little. “After, uh—you know, after you came back, from the void, we wanted to get rid of that little microchip in your head and maybe start trying to fix your powers. Bucky knew a guy—actually, the guy was the Queen of Wakanda, I shouldn’t call her a guy—so we all got shipped here a few nights ago. Flown here,” he amends.

“They took out the chip two nights ago, and they’ve been giving you some…vibranium therapy or something. Ava will know. It’s so that your powers can be weakened to the point where they don’t, you know,” he mimes an explosion. 

Radhika furrows her brow, deep in thought. “So,” she says after a long moment. “My burn marks…”

Walker nods, smiling. “Hopefully, these should be the last you ever get.”

He’s really grateful that he gets to break the happy news to her, because her face instantly lights up like the star-filled sky on a clear night. “Oh my god,” she says, covering her mouth, but Walker can still see the smile peeking out from between her fingers. She starts laughing, tearing up with the elation of it all. “Oh, John, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but the door swings open and the rest of the Thunderbolts rush through.

Yelena’s the first one to reach her, pushing Walker aside and yapping excitedly about everything that's happened, Bob intermittently adding details. Bucky goes around her bed to clap a hand on her shoulder, saying “I'm glad you're okay”, his eyes red and a little teary-eyed, prompting some teasing from Yelena and Bob. Ava crawls onto the bed to give her a tight hug, furiously whispering in her ear to “never do that again” and “I'll kill you if you ever leave” or something along those lines. Alexei pushes her legs aside (which makes her wince) to sit on the edge of the bed, and says something inaudible that makes Walker’s entire face fuchsia pink.

Radhika’s overwhelmed by their presence, but in a good way. Their affection makes her antsy, though, like she doesn’t deserve it.

“Hey, guys, I wanted to say something.” Nobody hears her. 

“Guys,” she starts again, a little rougher this time, and the room falls silent. All of a sudden, her mouth feels dry, and her apology seems like the hardest thing in the world to say right now.

“I, um—” Radhika pauses to wipe away the dried tears from her cheeks. “I wanted to—oh God,” her voice cracks, and she laughs a little despite herself. “I wanted to apologize,” she finally gets out, “for how terrible I've been.”

“But you haven't been terrible,” Walker blurts out.

She huffs. “Yeah, and what does your arm say?”

“Radhika, we're going to be okay,” Ava says, her forehead creased in concern. “We’re all used to getting banged up once in a while, you don't have to worry about us.”

“But I want to,” she retorts, feeling pinpricks of tears at the corners of her eyes. “You guys were so nice to me, and giving me so much grace when I was such a—such a—”

“Fucking asshole?”

“Yelena!” everyone groans.

“Well, yeah, kind of,” Radhika concedes. “I just—” She looks down, a little ashamed. “I was too stuck in my own head to realize you guys wanted to help me. Or to trust you.”

Alexei cracks a grin. “You came to the right people, then. We know what it's like to not be trusting people, to be extensively violent, all the jazz.” Everyone else murmurs their agreement. 

“But we accept your apology,” Bob adds, and the room erupts into conversation once again as all the Thunderbolts try to assure her they're not mad.

Radhika smiles, genuinely this time, as the tears spill out from her eyes. There's arguing, and contradicting, and attempts to make her feel better that fall ever so flat. If she had to guess, this is probably what the next few months are going to look like: full of bickering, and overstepping boundaries, and saying things you instantly wish you could take back.

But she's never felt more at home.