Secretive - Bucky Barnes

48 || Caught Your Eye

[Nova/Steven]
My mind is still spinning the next morning. At best, I got about five hours of sleep last night, and look as tired as we meet in Steve's room to eat breakfast, simply made of some bread, butter, cheese and marmelade. The room seems colourless somehow; the dark red curtains cut out every single light from outside, and the lamp atop our round table is far too white to be of any use for a good mindset.No one of us says a word, everyone busy with their own thoughts moving in circles.

I do not know why Stark chose me in the first place. It is more than clear the internship has not been a coincidence, but why would he wait so long to ask me about joining? Perhaps he has not been sure of my identity, but that does not make sense, either. He followed me for over two years. I need to suppress an ironical grunt; he probably knows more about what I am and why I am than I do myself. I should ask him.

Maybe he really waited for the right moment, and which one would be better if not an old enemy of mine deciding to explode skyscrapers now and then? 

Evil is clear in this world. Politics show us as much: dictators, people trying to get on top with false promises, corruption. Economy, too: betraying of costumers to make as much money as possible, sales where are no sales, selling things higher as they were originally just because they are sold out. I could even bring in early Stark himself: Trading weapons to fill his bank account, not thinking about Iceland, for example, having no army for decades and equally long no war, but wondering why there is so much terrorism in the world.

But good? There is no such thing on this planet as pure good. Everyone follows their own interests, and Dad was so right about heroes not existing. His words will pop up in my head over and over again, probably because I would love to see them in reality. Imagine someone as good-hearted as William Herondale, trying to make everyone hate him for their protection and suffering himself, or Inej Ghafa, standing behind Kaz Brekker now matter what in cause of her strong belief in him, walking down these streets. Would that not be a dream? Would that not solve all problems?  Would people not be able to learn from them?

No. Whatever this world is guilty for, it obviously does not deserve any good. Only the belief in it, faith in something higher and positive, and even religion causes war. Even the one thing that should serve heaven, a paradise itself is nothing untouched from darkness, and thereby, not entirely good. So, not good at all.

Slowly, I bite another piece of my bread and chew, glance still sticking on the plain white fridge that now and then starts buzzing quietly, just showing it still is working.

I do not want to go out there and fight. I do not want to go out there and murder. I do not want to go out there and enjoy it.

Heroes should be real. Heroes should come and safe me. Safe all of his. Put down the weight of our shoulders, make life easier, burn out the evil by its roots.

But sadly, they are not.

Sadly, I never had someone to protect me that way, and never will have.

So the evil will live on, for eternity.

More and more I wonder though, why people look at the Avengers like they were a better human breed than they personally are. Why they see superiority in them, see them as champions, and not the arrogant kind.

Tony Stark, for example, is the image of a successful man, with impressive engineering methods and products, one of the most intelligent people to walk on Earth. But is he not the one to sell weapons to illegal organisations? Was he not even kidnapped for it?

Natasha Romanoff, assassin, Black Widow, whatever you might call her. She is a beast, putting her own survival above others, guilty for many, many deaths and emotionless about it. Not in the least able to try and accept others, to try and stand up for them. She looks after her own, and that is all she does. Heroes do everything but.