Whilst Steven Rogers was fixated on finding his best friend, he had overlooked the signs to find his sister.
Amara had spent decades confined to darkness, lost in time. Now she must find her footing in the light and hope not to be left blinded.
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The one thing Amara hated more than sleep was the idea that she had lived a life and yet had no memory. What she thought was even worse was the fact Steven Rogers kept pretending she was the same girl he lost all those years ago.
A fresh dish of pasta was pushed in front of her, dowsed in garlic and chilli and any other spice Steve could find. It's heavy scent wafted through the air as if to disarm anyone who dared to come near, assaulting Amara before she could fight back. She paused. How would someone go about fighting food?
"You're favourite, we used to call it all or nothing pasta."
"We?"
His smile faltered as Amara looked toward him with a questioning stare. She knew he refused to tell her things he deemed too complex for her to understand. Still, it was infuriating when he swerved yet another topic. So instead of causing more disruption Amara pulled the bowl toward her and swirled the pasta round her fork in an attempt to make the old man stop worrying.
The only word Amara could think of to describe such a dish would be... horrendous. Absolutely. Categorically. Inconsolably. Horrendous.
The room stilled as she faked enjoyment, each breath making the atmosphere denser. She couldn't let him down any more. He had expected so much from her these past few days. He wanted the girl who had been long forgotten. Instead, he was given a stranger who only resembles his past friend in appearance.
"You hate it." He sighed, chest deflating as the hope he harboured dissipated into nothing.
"No, I promise I like it. The taste it's..."
"yeah you definitely hate it. Your ears turn red when you lie."
Amara had to bite back her frustration as she dropped the fork into the bowl. bitterness swelled in her stomach as she settled with the thought of someone knowing more about her than even she knew. Of course her complexion darkened when she lied, of course she had an infuriatingly obvious tell. How else was she so easily manipulated.
"Oh, right. Im sorry." her tone softened as her thoughts caught up to her, dragging her back to her meek reality. Steve felt his guilt triple as he watched her face drop, nothing he could say could make her feel better. Nothing could make him understand the pain that came with that sort of trauma.
"How you finding your new room?" He tried to switch the topic, hoping any focus on the present could deter from the memories of her past. He watched intently as she paused at his question, trying to discern what she was thinking. If only he had Wandas power. Maybe then he would realise how much of Amara Barnes was really lost.
"Oh its lovely, feels like home."
Steve couldn't help but notice her ears turn red.
➿➿➿
"How long can you really last without sleep, little America?" Pietro pondered as he leant back in the desk chair, seemingly uninterested in the answer as he flicked through the worn pages of her book.
It had become a routine for the pair, Pietro slipping into her room once night fell and the emergency lights came up. They wouldn't speak much, aimless comments aired as Pietro continued reading and Amara stared up at her plain ceiling. Still, company within silence felt comforting and Amara was grateful to no longer be alone in the dark.
"A serious question. I am curious to know the answer." He continued, gaze peering up through the stained pages to gage her reaction. Amara didn't move. Her limbs becoming heavier with each passing hour she stayed awake, movements too sluggish to tempt her to shift positions.
"Where have you gotten to in the book?" She swerved the topic as if it were the plague. Instead, choosing to tease memories of her past by remembering her favourite story.
"The main character is being very stubborn and will not listen to what is best for her, sounds familiar yes?" She could hear the humour in his voice as he grinned his Cheshire Cat smile. Nothing was funnier to him than his own jokes. One day, Amara was going to prove him wrong.
"Are you ever going to go back to your own room?" Amara sighed in annoyance, gaze finally landing on the erratic boy as he began to spin in her chair.
"I like yours better, your neighbours are less nosy."
His comment piqued her interest. Was she so lucky to have a super soldier sleeping just next door? at least he had respected her privacy by staying away from her room. Less could have been said of others.
"Enough moping, im too hungry to think. Come, we will go raid the fridge." Before Amara could refuse, a flash of blue and silver had pulled her to her feet and ushered her towards the door. She didn't mind the change of pace. Instead, almost leaning toward it as the pair began their descent to the kitchen.
"When do you ever stop to think?"
"Oh, Bunica thinks she is funny now?"
Amara couldn't escape light.
Even the kitchen, whilst plain and functional, had a blinding white light hooked underneath each cabinet. In this room she couldn't tell night from day, but truthfully she wouldn't care if Pietro forced her to stay there until the sun rose once again. As long as he stayed too.
"What is your favourite food?" Pietro hummed thoughtfully as he swung open door after door, clearly in search of something. It took him a moment to pause, blinking back toward the girl before realising what he had said. She stared back blankly almost goading him to continue.
"Sorry stupid question. I shall show you mine." Pietro grinned bashfully, already swinging his attention back toward his task.
Amara was thankful for the change in subject. She didn't feel that she had disappointed him, which had become a predominant theme throughout her new life. Steve constantly looked dismayed each time they talked. But here, sat upon the counter as the frantic boy sped across the room, Amara felt safe. For the first time she didn't need to act.
"Here!" A gush of blue and silver suddenly pushed a bowl towards her. Inside, a tower of ice cream had been littered with sweets and chocolates. A bowl filled with potential cavities.
"Do you really need more sugar?" Amara questioned with a quirked brow, toying with the spoon that had miraculously appeared next to her.
"Shut up and try it." Pietro scoffed, already half way through his own bowl. It took a few hesitant breaths but soon enough Amara was barrelling large spoonfuls herself.
"Nice no?" He grinned at her reaction and she nodded in agreement, suddenly favouring this meal to the one Steven had forced on her before.
"Maybe you should become a chef." She grinned in thought, lost in the idea of Pietro leading his own kitchen. The Maximoffs were complete chaos, so the thought of Pietro in charge appeared too manic to be real.
"Maybe yes. Maybe no. I prefer rescuing maidens from towers." He shrugged with a smirk, disregarding his now empty bowl into the sink with a huff. Amara took note of his disappointment, glancing down to her half full bowl of sugar.
"Here." She offered, reaching out for him to take the rest of her food. His blue eyes lightened and soon enough he had perched himself beside her with an extra spoon, sharing the rest of the food in comforting silence.
•••
I'm trying to get Pietro right, he's quite hard to script at times. Are we liking their dynamic so far?
