Fallen Heroes | Marvel/CATWS {2}

Chapter 13: The Cold Shoulder

Friends listen to what you say. Best friends listen to what you don't say. –Unknown

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Hill managed to sneak my original uniform out of storage before fleeing the Triskelion. The leather smells of dust and mothballs (why am I not surprised that they use mothballs at S.H.I.E.L.D.?), but the familiar feel of the flexible material is strangely welcoming. It's different than the newer uniform; the sleeves are shorter, the hole in the back for my wings is larger, the fabric is lighter. I never liked it before, but for some reason I'm glad to have it instead of the new one.

We have a plan—one that is only slightly better than the plan involving Sitwell. It's risky and the odds against us are staggering, but all of us involved have faced seemingly impossible odds before. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but I'm more afraid of failing than dying. If we don't stop Insight, I still die—along with Steve, Natasha, Sam, Bruce, probably Tony and Clint, and anybody else that doesn't share HYDRA's beliefs.

The thoughts play through my head as I struggle to conjure enough magic to weave a healing spell for my throat—I'd used far too much magic trying to fight...who? Who is he? Is he still Bucky Barnes, one of World War II's many fallen heroes, or is he just the Winter Soldier? Is there anything left of Steve's old friend, or is the remorseless assassin all that remains?

My head and my heart fight with each other, both convinced they have the right answer. My head screams that he's still the monster that tried to kill Fury (twice), would have killed me, and deserves to be destroyed. My heart says that if it comes down to another fight and I don't give him the benefit of the doubt, Steve will never forgive me. If something drives a wedge between us, Steve and Cecilia will be pushed apart—something that would break her heart. That would almost be worth dying to prevent.

But she's young, my head argues. She can meet someone else. If you die because you let the Winter Soldier live, you won't be around to keep her and Nathan safe anymore.

I let out a frustrated sight as the spell settles over my throat, causing the pain to subside and the bruises to start fading. A dull ache remains and the bruises don't completely disappear, but it's enough for now. Looking away from my reflection in the screen of Cecilia's phone (someone had thought to take the battery out, just in case someone tried to track the signal), I lean back in my chair and start twisting my hair around my wrist—clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise.

"When are you gonna cave and get a haircut?" Cecilia asks in a hesitant voice as she approaches.

I shrug. "Eventually."

I look over and see her holding up a jacket. "Thought you might need this," she explains. "Y'know, since it's kinda chilly and your shirt has a big hole in the back."

I know that's not the only reason she's here, but I still take the jacket. "Thanks." My voice is still a little gravely, but it doesn't hurt to speak.

While I slip the jacket on, Cecilia walks around my chair and stands behind me, separating my hair into two halves. After a lot of tugging a pulling to get the tangles out, both halves are French-braided, meeting in a ponytail that, once draped over my shoulder, is long enough to brush my thight. "Who says you can't kick ass and look fabulous at the same time?" she asks.

I tilt my head back so I can smile at her. Even upside down, I can see the worry on her face. "What's bothering you?"

She sighs, but walks around and sits on the ground in front of me. She examines her chipped nail polish and says, "Natasha told me about Bucky."

"Sissy, I'm fine. Look," I add, pushing my ponytail away from my throat, "a little magic and the bruise is already fading."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Her tone is firm but not argumentative as she meets my eye. "Nathan wanted to be the one to talk to you about this, but I talked him into letting me."

"Let me guess: he wants me to throw caution aside and do what has to be done."

"Not exactly," she replies, "but close enough. He said that if you see Bucky again, you need to forget about your friendship with Steve."

"I'm gonna do my best to avoid that situation," I assure her. "Unless he can fly, I should be fine as soon as I get in the air."

Cecilia reaches out and takes my hands in hers. "Liv, promise me something." When she doesn't use her nickname for me, I know she's being dead serious. "If something does happen, if you can't avoid him, you fight. You fight, and you fight to win. It doesn't matter what happens after, as long as you're alive."

I give her another smile and squeeze her hands in mine. "I promise, I'll make it back. And I'll do my best to get your boyfriend back in one piece, too," I add teasingly.

She pulls her hands back, looking away to try to hide her blush behind her dark hair. "I don't know—"

I roll my eyes at her. "You're a lot of things, Sissy, but subtle's not one of them. I'm pretty sure he's the only one that doesn't see it, and that's only because he's too busy trying not to show that he feels the same."

She looks at me through her hair, clearly fighting a smile. "He does?" Her voice sounds like an excited squeak.

I don't fight my smirk. "Did I stutter?"

Soon after, Cecilia gets called away. I take that as my cue to bite the bullet and find Steve. We haven't had a chance to talk one-on-one since the bridge. I can tell he's mad at me, even if he doesn't realize it himself. I try not to let it bother me—Barnes was his best friend long before I was even born, after all—but I still think he should at least be a little grateful that I'd saved him for the umpteenth time.

I find him outside, standing by the edge of the dam, staring off into space. I walk towards him, hands stuffed in the pockets of Cecilia's jacket. "I figured out why Vindex's spell didn't work," I say by way of breaking the ice. "I threw the first punch, not him. There wasn't anything for the sword to protect me from. The spell only worked after he started fighting back."

He doesn't reply for several long seconds. "The cold shoulder?" I scoff. "Seriously?"

When he still doesn't acknowledge me, I let out a sigh and lean against the edge of the dam, arms crossed over my chest. "If our places had been reversed—if Nathan had been standing there about to kill me—would you have reacted any differently than I did?"

"That spell could've killed him, Liv," Steve finally says.

"And you'd've broken Nathan's neck with a shield," I point out. "If you're waiting for an apology, don't hold your breath."

"You don't think he can be saved, do you?" he accuses.

"I'm past thinking anything's impossible," I say. "But you and I both know he'd going to be at the Triskelion. If it comes down to either him or you or Natasha or Sam or me, it won't be a contest."

"Then I guess it's a good thing you'll be in the air and not fighting on the ground," Steve retorts.

I try to offer him a small, sympathetic smile, but it probably looks as forced as it feels. "I know you don't want to make that choice, but you might have to. He doesn't remember you."

"He will," Steve says, the statement sounding like a promise. He nods in the direction of the SUVs hidden in the trees and adds, "Come on. We need to pick something up."

"What're you talking about?" I ask as I follow him.

"If you're going to fight a war," he explains over his shoulder, "you got to wear a uniform."

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Only four chapters and an epilogue left! I will be announcing the title of the next book at the end of chapter fifteen.