The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Six

Bucky POV

"He's not talking."

I look away from the window to watch Steve as he collapses on the floor next to me.

Heavy bags of fatigue tug at his usually bright eyes, eyebrows knitted together in a deep V. He tucks his legs up into himself like he used to when he was younger. An image of us when we were kids floats to mind, of us in my living room watching rain race down the glass, betting on different droplets to make it to the ground first.

He was a lot smaller then, but still had that same sense of maturity he has now.

"Tony and I have both tried." He sighs, eyes on the view of New York.

Tony can be a jackass sometimes, but being around him has its perks, the Avengers tower being one of them.

"Have you let Nat have a go at him." I ask, head resting on my knees.

"She's in there now but I don't see what difference it will make."

He lets out a sigh, broad shoulders moving slowly up and down. I can feel his eyes on me before he speaks again.

"Do you really think she'll help?"

I know exactly which 'she' he's talking about without asking him to elaborate. Amber eyes flash across my mind for the hundredth time, as they have been since we came back from Washington last week. The horror on her face seems to be branded on the inside of my eyelids.

I turn to meet Steve's soft blue gaze.

"A long time as passed since I knew her."

Steve closes his eyes for a second, before refocusing them on me. "That doesn't answer my question."

A huff deflates my torso, my head leaning back to rest against the side of the bed. It's a nice bed, queen sized with soft whites sheets, but I hardly use it. I can't sleep properly in it.

"I think if we give her a proper, solid chance to be free of Hydra, she will." I say eventually, picking my words carefully. "But if there's any possibility of falling back into their hands, then she'll do anything possible to escape both sides."

Steve nods, a flicker of hope igniting in his pale blue eyes.

We're silent for a few minutes longer until Steve shifts beside me.

"What happened between you two? How do you know each other?"

My eyes find Steve's for a long minute and he holds my gaze, curiously evident on his features. Letting out a humoured huff, he turns back to the New York skyline. He knows by now when I'm not going to answer a question.

The door bursts open behind us, both of our heads snapping round to eye Tony in the door way.

"Come on, love birds." He calls, excitement flashing in his eyes. "Nat got him talking."

*****

Nyx POV

Thwack

Thwack

Thwack

The bag swings wildly on its chain, making it harder to get a decent hit in.

I pause my punching to steady it with a hand, the knuckles of which are red and angry, small fissures on the skin leaking blood.

I swing at it again, wincing as I try to ignore the throbbing in my swollen shoulder. Two weeks later and it still hurts like hell.

I see him standing there, shoulders back, metal arm tensed and ready. His piercing blue eyes stare straight at me, boring into my very mind.

Grunting, I punch harder and harder, every hit knocking the image back further in my brain until I'm revelling in the stinging of my hands, the tearing pain in my shoulder. Each wave of pain brings a fresh distraction from the person who hasn't left my mind in two weeks, whose face has tormented me for years. I welcome the respite with open arms.

With one last wallop, the bag tears from its chains and flies halfway across the room, haemorrhaging sand like a torn artery.

Gasping for breath, I inspect the damage to my hands. They shake as I hold them up, slick with blood and sweat that drips between inflamed knuckles. I flex my fingers, an illogical satisfaction rushing through me at the feeling of intense stinging.

Concentrating on my fingertips, I will a weird sort of pressure into them. A half smiles tugs at my lips as the nails start to shift, elongating into 2 inch points. They curl slightly towards the tip like that of cat as I hold them up to the light, staring at them.

A dark substance settles in my stomach, twisting itself round in almost tangible pain.

My smirk dissipates.

Freak.

Abomination.

Murderer.

I drop my hand, claws retracting. Curling my lip in self disgust, I turn at the sound of the door behind me opening.

"Return to your accommodation and wait for instructions, 184." Yells the agent, a look of agitation in his eyes. "Hostiles are approaching the base."

He wears a black bulletproof vest over his usual Hydra uniform, two guns resting at his waist. A skullcap covers his head, strapped up under his chin and obscuring most of his features. I doubt I'd know him, even if I could see his face.

I can tell by his rigid stance that this isn't a drill.

"The Avengers?" I ask, though it comes out as more of a statement.

"Return to accommodation." He repeats, before turning on his heel and hurrying down the corridor.

Apprehension settles in my stomach as a pair of piercing blue eyes flash across my vision once more.

This isn't going to end well.