V (marvel comics au)

In Which There is a Hello Kitty Keychain

It had to have been pure luck, this fuck up.

Bucky was sitting in his car, his knees aching where they had smashed against the console, his fingers splayed open in front of the wheel. The front half of his red mini cooper had hopped the curb with a grating noise, the underbelly of his car shrieking, the door jammed against the pavement of the sidewalk. He tried to shift to reach his phone, but his seat belt was digging into his hip, there was a pressure on the back of his skull, like someone was balancing a stack of books there.

All in all, not a bad crash. There didn't seem to be any permanent damage, to him or his car. He opened and closed the fingers of both hands reflexively, the joints in his metal prosthetic clicking. Everything in working order. Good job, you've officially survived your fourth car accident. There should be a world record for this shit.

Bucky was just about to get out and push when he saw it. Five ominous words blinking up at him from the screen of his GPS.

You Have Reached Your Destination

Fucking great.

*******

Sam was just cleaning up when he heard it: someone was stabbing a pterodactyl to death right outside the front of the store. At least that's what it sounded like.

He dropped the towel he was using to scrub the glass display case and leaned over the counter. There was a red mini - cooper pressed up against the sidewalk, its front wheels still spinning. The smell of burnt rubber wafted through the cool night air.

Spurred into action, Sam opened the divider between the kitchen and the counter. Natasha was crouched in front of one of their industrial sized fridges, slowly removing one ear bud.

"Did someone just run over a very large cat?" The chef asked, pulling herself into a standing position.

"Nah, car jumped the curb." Sam watched as Natasha closed the fridge door, throwing a stray piece of lint over her shoulder. "Don't you toss that shit on the floor." He warned her.

His friend stuck her tongue out in response.

They rushed out of the store together, the glass door swinging behind them. Sam had a moment of regret; he must have looked ridiculous bursting outside in his grease stained apron, no shoes on his feet. At least you're not wearing your frumpy chef hat. He patted the top of his head quickly to make sure.

The car looked to be mostly fine. The bottom was a bit scratched up, and it was tilted at an awkward angle, but other than that there were no smashed headlights or bended fenders. Slowly, the window closest to the sidewalk began to roll open.

"Hey, are you all right in there?" Sam called out. A young looking guy with a longish brown hair stuck his head out of the now open window.

"Is this 327 Elm Way?" The man asked in response, pushing his bedraggled hair back from his face.

"Um... yes?" Sam replied.

The driver sighed, leaning back against his headrest. "Fuck me."

"No thanks," Natasha shot back coolly, crossing her arms over her staff t-shirt. The redhead looked more than a little irritated, maybe it was because this mystery man had scratched up a mini cooper? Maybe mini coopers were her secret favourite car?

Before Sam could ask Nat what was up, or question the driver on his navigation skills (it was a straight, flat, empty road -seriously), the driver was swinging both legs out of the open window, and hopping onto the sidewalk.

The store owner flipped his shit. "Whoa hey, stop moving for two seconds! You could have some injuries you can't feel right now, bones you could be moving out of place-"