daybreak. / bucky barnes

5 | SEVENTEEN

(семнадцать)

GRAY'S MIND WAS playing on a loop. Her senses were heightened and her muscles ached. The thought and surreality of being in a plane with all of these people that she was fighting to the death with only hours before, didn't sit well with her. But, she closed her eyes, trying her best to stay still and stay calm for the few more hours they had on this treacherous jet ride back to New York. Somewhere she had been only a month ago in one of her many stops running from HYDRA.

   Though she was acute and always on edge, she found herself feeling welcomed in by the small group. Most of them knew what she had gone through. Most of them accepted it. And even one of them had been through the same thing as her.

Gray's head laid gently on the window of the jet, the familiar buzz of the engine acting as a soothing, dull sound that somehow calmed her racing heart down. She didn't feel completely safe with them yet. She didn't think she ever would, for that matter. She knew what Bucky could do. She knows how dangerous they all are. As well as how hard they are to beat. It wasn't hard to figure it out that they were dangerous and a not a force to be reckoned with.

"So," Natasha's voice scared Gray out of her small trance, Natasha's red, fiery hair coming into her peripheral as she turned her head, Natasha now sat across from her. Gray slightly frowned at the lost sight of the top of the clouds, now staring into the emeralds of her eyes instead.

Natasha's lips were pursed closed, looking like she wanted to say something, though she stayed silent, confusing Gray a bit.

"Tell me more about this." Natasha ran a hand down through the air, signifying Gray's figure. Gray's confused expression didn't falter as she let out the ghost of a sigh, humming to think of what exactly she could say. There wasn't much to tell.

"I don't know what to tell," Gray's words were soft as she let out a sad, small laugh. There wasn't much to tell about herself other than the metal arm attached to her, even though anyone with eyes could obtain that. She simply hated the fact she didn't have anything much to tell other than that.

"How about..." Natasha trailed off, putting a skinny finger to her chin, the edge of her nail gently indenting on her red lips as she hummed, thinking. Before long, her eyes lit up as if she had gotten an idea, a warm smile gracing her lips soon after. "Tell me about who you were before it all," she suggested. Gray nodded, offering a warm smile.

Gray thought hard. So hard, in fact, that her temples nearly ached from the grasping of memories. She only remembered a little. It frustrated her at times, but the only thing she could do is try to remember.

"I...I used to be a singer before the crash and stuff," Gray meekly stated, her statement sounding more like a question as she tried to recall. Natasha's red-painted lips curved up into an ecstatic grin. Gray silently hoped she didn't ask her to sing for her, because she definitely would not.

   "What did you use to sing?" Natasha curiously asked, tilting her head in interest. Gray had known that off the top of her head. The pretty melody stuck in her head ever since she got out of cyro months ago. It had taken this long to gather even a little information, but the song had never been forgotten.

   "It was "Fly Me To The Moon" by Frank Sinatra. All the time. My grandma used to ask me to sing it to her over the phone and it never failed to make her smile when I did it in person," she confessed, smiling widely as she let out a small laugh. "I even knew guitar at one point, I think. It's all a blur, though," Gray said, her smile dropping as she tried to remember. Even if she did, there was no chance she'd be able to recall anything from it now.