Chapter Text
The Watchtower, the newly refurbished jewel of New York's skylines. Standing high above traffic yet never high enough to escape the condemning whispers from the detractors of the team.
In the control centre resting after a mission in this very city the team does what the team does best, trying their best and not always hitting the marks needed.
“I’m just saying if you had listened-” John starts, an arm in a sling holding a litany of news articles in his injured hand and his phone in the other.
The mission wasn’t quite a failure. All the hostages were saved and the so-called super villains holding them are in custody, however that’s not what the general public is going to see first.
“Not this again.” Ava groans cutting him off as she rests an ice pack on her bruised forehead, their opponents had sonic weapons so she is simply not in the mood for Walker’s post mission complaining sessions that never seem to happen when the team has actually messed up.
“Walker not now.” Bucky says, frustrated beyond belief, the information that Valentina so graciously procured left out the fact that some of the villains were enhanced. Knowing about the bastard that throws fire would have been very useful an hour ago.
“Bah, Soldier is right Walker, look on bright side. We are heroes defending the innocent and thwarting the bad guys.” Alexi chimes in, he's unharmed and the fight went well for him and him alone.
”Bright side?! You call this a bright side?!” Walker shouts, throwing the articles onto the table.
The front page headline in big bold letters read.
Are these the heroes protecting us? With a lovely picture of Alexi a couple weeks ago mid punch with a smile that is a bit too happy for the situation at hand. By the Headline.
Mayor Fisk Slams Reckless Behavior by New Avengers. By the New York Times
The New Avengers Allies to Dangerous Vigilantes. Some blurry photo of a very embarrassing day, when the team ran into Spider-man, no one came out of it looking good. By the Daily Bugle
Yelena who up until this point had chosen to stay quiet pipes up. “You're not serious right, the Headline is a joke that’s one step away from bankruptcy, the Times at this point have to be blind and the Bugle only hates us because of Spider-man.”
“That’s not the point.” John sighs. “Look, let's be real here, how long do you think Valentina is really going to stay free?”
Valentina’s a sore spot, post her surprise reveal the impeachment was dismissed on the grounds of a lack of evidence. Though that hasn’t stopped rumours or journalists digging into her claims.
”Walker.” Bucky is still conflicted about his part in her trial. Lying to congress about her, claiming that there really was nothing hurts, it also hasn’t helped his relationship with Sam Wilson.
Going from near daily communication about the upcoming trail to downplaying and misdirection on top of the betrayal Sam must be feeling has started to chip away at their bond.
Bucky doesn’t regret his decision yet, if people knew about what Oxe Corp had created that would be very, very bad and he won’t let another person be prodded and torn apart to see how they tick.
“No Bucky, you are safe, if she goes down she doesn’t have enough dirt on you to drag you down with her. The rest of us.” He waves at himself, Ava who frowns, Yelena who avoids his gaze and even Alexi who seems complative. “Are doomed.”
”Not inherently.” Yelena argues. “We have been doing good and it’s not like she still has records of our work for her. She destroyed them herself.”
”Yeah do you think the legal system cares?” John, impassioned, continues. “Up until Latvia, I had no faults in my record and that didn’t save me. You think the rest of us after everything would be spared. All it would take is Valentina spilling any little bit of information about us to save her skin and at best we’re in the Raft for the rest of our lives.”
“Then what are you suggesting?” Ava pokes.
John avoids her gaze, his hand fidgeting; he sighs after a long silence. “I don’t know. There happy. I want this I want to be a hero again. But do you really think this is going to last? Wilson’s forming a team of his own and it isn’t hard to see what will happen when he’s finished.”
He shares his phone screen with the group, projected upon the massive screen is a collage of titles from all sorts of sources from reputable news sites, to hate thread on the net.
They all say one thing. When will the real Avengers show up?
“How long have you been waiting on this?” Yelana asks, her eyes darting from headline to headline, definitely was a good idea that she’d put limiters on her phone, last thing she needs to be stuck doomscrolling through the writings of people who have never met her judging her every breath harshly, like John seems to be stuck doing.
“Long enough, look, I want this to work, I do, but we have to be ready for all of this to come crashing down.” John’s not the realist in the group, that goes to Ava. His injuries have no doubt made space for his doubts.
The words hang in the air like a looming beast waiting to strike at its prey. The view of the team is as a temporary force holding the name, so in the eyes of the general public when the real Avengers show up what use would there be for the back up team. And more importantly what would happen to them.
Bucky can leave, he hasn’t been entangled in the cruel brutal world of mercenaries and assassins on Valentina’s payroll, if she goes down he’s got options. Sure he and Sam aren’t on the best of terms but they still care about each other. Sam would probably, after a bit of well meaning lecturing, let him on his new team and the public would probably accept his presence.
No one else is that fortunate.
A couple of months ago he’d have jumped ship the first chance he got. Really if someone had told past Bucky that in time not only would he happily be on a team that includes John Walker of all people but that it gave him a new purpose in life. He would have probably laughed in their face.
Yet he’s gone from indifference and hatred, Walker, to actual friendship and mutual trust, again Walker, these people who have all wormed their way into his old mended heart. They need him.
Now don’t get him wrong Bucky will forever be grateful for Sam Wilson. The man who has helped him, been his friend for years. But Sam doesn’t need him, not like the patchworked group of not quite friends yet do.
Bucky is not an idiot; he's spent years recovering from his past, from his trauma still he can admit that the pain never really goes away; it simply becomes easier to bear. And some days it is too much and he has healthier coping skills than everyone else in this room combined.
He goes for a speech channeling Sam as best as he can but is cut off before he can start as the elevator doors open and a figure in black all but runs out.
“Oh good you’re here already.” Mellisa Gold strides out of the elevator barely waiting for it to open its doors before she is in the centre of the room. Strands of hair out of place and sweat dripping from her hands.
”You look as bad as I feel.” Yelena comments. Mel, despite her connections to Val, and unbeknownst to them a secret she has buried, somewhat joined the team unofficially as their seventh member. She is the only one who can handle Val on a bad day so she is invaluable.
“Thank you, I try.” Brushing aside the papers and glancing at the screen she nods in approval. “Good I see you already are on top of the problem. Now here is what is going to happen to fix this.”
She taps her tablet and from a collage of screenshots to a now familiar set of approval charts. What isn’t familiar is the fifty step plan that has been scrawled out underneath. Labeled how to keep job.
“Have you slept recently?” Bucky asks as he watches Mel chug what he smells is a water bottle full of coffee.
“Nope no time for that.” While the rest of them have just been going on missions with less than ideal info and suffering through interviews, Mel Gold has been struggling to keep a leaky ship seaworthy when in sight of the rest of the fleet.
At least the pay is finally good, her long earned promotion finally secured and all it took was a murder. Though is it really murder if the person got back up. Mel’s mind makes light of the event because if she really thinks about that day too much the chances of her letting slip that little piece of delicate information goes from an unlikely possibility to a certainty.
”Pack your bags, we are all going to DC, President Ritsen-”
”Didn’t he get ousted?” Ava interrupts remembering the idiot who decided to declare war with New Asgard without realising, it was an eventful week even for black ops mercenaries who legally didn’t exist.
“Yeah but when your replacement turns into a giant rage monster you suddenly look adept at your job.” Mel says jovially before getting serious, “Like I was saying prior, President Ritsen, unlike Ross, is not entirely on board with Wilson, why I don’t know. Says he wants to meet all of you before he makes a decision.”
There are some advantages to working for the head of the CIA, one is you are a lot more aware of the changes in the political landscape and you know about planned events before anyone else.
”But the real reason we are going is that there is also going to be a hearing that you are required to go to that is about the Day of Darkness.”
The Day of Darkness the fancy way of describing the day where every single being in New York was dragged kicking and screaming into their worst shames and regrets. It has been a bit but the city has yet to truly recover if the spike of self inflicted injuries is anything to go by.
And unfortunately for the team specifically, photos of the Void were taken that day, highly distorted photos that barely capture anything but just enough to see a figure responsible, a monster that the public has been baying for its blood ever since.
And with the slow pace of politics finally catching up with the demands of the people it seems that hoping for the Void to be forgotten or brushed under the rug as just another in a long line of tragedies that New York has faced is a pipe dream.
“Where’s Bob?” Bucky asks, he hasn’t seen him today.
“In therapy.” Yelena offhandly reveals, she thought they knew.
“What. When did this happen?” Bucky balks he didn’t know and he knows that he isn’t unobservant. How did he miss this?
“It was… organised by… Valentina.” Mel whispers, almost shielding herself with her tablet.
The entire room erupts with shouts.
”Look, Valentina also wants Bob to get better. Is it for selfish reasons, yes but does it matter if he improves?” Mel tries to defend herself more so than her boss, she is the person who actually organised it, but well not like any of them are going to look into her claims if she said Valentina did it.
“No it doesn’t.” Yelena's voice rises above the noise giving no room to argue, the entire team has psychologists that they speak with so what differences does it make if her friend, who in all honesty needs one more than the rest of them now, has one.
She's not worried about Dr. Sofen; she vetted her herself and found nothing wrong with her record or her person, even did what can only be described as a shovel talk to the older woman and made it very clear what would happen if she betrayed his or her trust in the doctor.
“Thank you Yelena. Back your bags we leave tomorrow at 9:00am sharp.” Mel finishes.
###
Tick tock. A grandfather clock chimes out in the artificially generated warm room. It’s monotonies clicking drilling into Bob’s head.
“Just one session.” Bob mumbles to himself sprawled out on a brand new recliner, its harsh leathery smell hiding underneath burning plastic invading his senses.
You see Bob’s observant, he had to be to reach his thirties, from recognising the types of stomps his father left behind when charging up the stairs, the friendly smiles paired with shifty eyes from dealers experimenting and finally the dichotomy between fine pressed suits and seedy backalleys.
It’s not like the skill stopped him from opening his mouth or making bad decisions on a whim, it just always let him know when he made a mistake. So when Yelena deep into a conversation slipped Dr Sofen’s name in he knew what she was getting at.
Tick Tock.
Therapists and the Reynolds family have always mixed like oil and water. He, Bob hates thinking about that man, the man that ruined him, always thought they were for pansy and failures, he treasured he rage like a dragon treasured gold. His mother, who he can never hate regardless of what she did, never considered them useful, nodding along with the advice then disregarding it the second it got difficult.
And Bob, well the only therapists he’s had have been court mandated and wanted to help him about as much as he wanted to be there. So he was not thrilled that Yelena booked him into a session without asking.
But Yelena shows how she cares through actions not words so at least he can try it. When it doesn’t go well it won’t be because he refused to engage.
Why do you let her go behind your back?
You know why, Bobby’s never had a spine.
Hot gold shimmers behind his eyes and freezing shadow curls around his heart.
Great, the peanut gallery is here to commentate, just what he needs.
Tick Tock.
He claws at his arms like he is trying to peel his skin off to release the power trapped beneath but can only create raw red lines that heals in a blink leaving nothing behind. Bob misses his scars, they told the story of his life and now they’re gone.
Bob hasn’t told anyone that he's hearing voices or seeing them in the corner of his eye. He knows Yelena suspects, she caught him jumping at his reflection. He wants to tell her but can’t everytime he opens his mouth the words get stuck in his throat. She is already under so much stress he can’t pile onto it with his own broken mind. He can’t tell Yelena the person he trusts more than anyone else in the whole wide world so he definitely can’t tell any other person. Can’t let them know how broken he is.
They already know that you're broken, how would this change anything.
Void cuts him down whenever there is an opening. His dead voice mocking in its entirety. He never asks, only does.
You don’t need them, why do they dominate your choices?
Sentry, what the gold has taken as his name, on the other hand is kind in a way. His voice filled with life but burdened with arrogance. He asks what Bob wants while telling him what is best.
They’ve both always been there in the creases of his mind. Along with his highs and lows. Oxe’s program just gave them names. They are each other's opposite, fire and ice clash again and again marking the walls and doors of his psyche. Two unstoppable forces that claim him as their own and will not relent to the other, unmovable in their pursuit.
But today they are in unison, Void hates Yelena with the passion of a dying star, hates her for tearing them apart, Sentry in his golden brilliance thinks nothing of her, she is just another human in his presence.
They both agree her interference in their life isn’t welcomed.
”Shut up.” He hisses, teeth gritted and his fist clenched at his side. “Just shut up.”
”Oh I hope I’m not interrupting.” A deep melodious voice like those given to angels in film cut off what might have turned into a screaming match.
Bob jerks to the side, almost falling off the recliner, he finally notices Dr Sofen just as she slides the door close behind her. She gives a small, sharp yet not unkind chuckle at his antics.
Wearing a simple cyan suit dress it’s not up for debate that Dr Sofen is a beautiful older woman, with long silvery blonde flowing hair bound tightly in plait, grey misty eyes that hide a treasure trove of secrets, wrinkles that line her face belaying a difficult life that she has pushed through and most peculiar of all a tattoo of a large orange gem resting alone on the top of her right hand.
“Now Mr Reynolds-” She starts the session, sitting down on the couch opposite of him crossing her legs and pulling out a well worn clipboard and pen, a great contrast to the fake age of the room.
“Just Bob.” It’s almost reflex at this point.
“Okay Bob, I apologise for my lateness, did not realise just how many checkpoints I would have to go through today.” Dr Sofen replies without missing a beat. Her pen scratches against the paper as she quickly jots down a response to his words.
A quick glance to the new yet old fashioned grandfather clock looming in the corner tells the truth, he was too caught up in his head to realise that Dr Sofen was fifteen minutes late.
“Now I have a few things about you on my file. That’s just procedure, it's nothing to worry about. Would you like to go through it to make sure you are comfortable?” Dr Sofen asks with compassion in her eyes.
Wow it really is something that this is the first time any of his therapists have bothered to ask him what he thinks about anything. Rather than delving straight into his rap sheet.
“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” Maybe this might work out.