Christmas to Spend Alone

Christmas to Spend Alone

This happens every year so I'm used to it I guess, but it still stings. I can actually hear what I'm missing out on this year, which makes it that much worse. I let out a irritated sigh, and tense the muscles in my back when Jiggle Bell Rock comes on over the radio for the 3rd time in an hour. I let out my anger and threw the closest object to me at the radio/ alarm clock on my night stand. I didn't feel bad about breaking the alarm clock, but I did feel bad about breaking the stapler I threw.

I hated the holidays, I'm a bit of a Scrooge you could say, but I don't care. I had become an Avenger in July, and here I am now, on Christmas Eve. I didn't mind being an Avenger, I get to live in this cool tower and I always have food and clothing now. I came from a really big family where if you were the little one, which I was, you didn't get much more than a mouthful at each meal if that. All clothes were hand me downs and practically thread bare. Showers didn't happen enough as they should, and money for school, extracurricular activities, and fun were all but none existent.

It was worse for me because I was a freak too. I could bend reality. I was different, and weird. If I had any fraction of a chance it was torched when I found out I had special abilities. I was bullied at home, and at school. So when I was 16 I left home, and unofficially dropped out of school. Worst part about it, nobody noticed.

Street life was tough, but I was tougher. I kept alive and I kept my dignity, and when SHIELD found me I willingly went with their program. The Avengers, I heard about the stuff they did in New York. So moving with their crew didn't sound so bad. And it's not, only thing is they have this thing where they are all each other's best friends and they interact with each other as much as possible. I don't really dig on the whole human contact thing. I don't trust people. I carry the missions I'm assigned, eat, sleep, and train.

I know that the others had high hopes for me, and I can tell that I'm a disappointment to them personality wise. But none of them are really my type. Tony is arrogant, and self-absorbed. Steve is too overly respectful and proper. Thor is too loud and doesn't have a sense of personal space. Clint he's shifty and when he speaks he can be a bit like Tony arrogant. Natasha is like Clint, but she is also a bit a troublemaker. Bruce isn't half bad, he keeps to himself. But he's far too nice for my liking.

Only other person in the Avengers is the other new guy, Bucky Barnes. I like him. He doesn't talk or do human contact. I've got respect for that guy. But still, he is friendly with Steve, they are all best friendy and stuff. So that just leaves me. (Y/N). The kinetic freak of the century.

Frustrated, I take off my clothes and change into a comfy black sweater, and black leggings. I walk up the wall, bending the laws of gravity to fit my needs. I let my dark brown hair flow down towards the ground as I sit my bum on the ceiling.

I listen to the sounds of my teammates laughing and talking upstairs. I want to go into the kitchen, to get some whisky or vodka, but to do that I'd have to pass the area they are hanging out in. I could have myself invisible, but that takes a lot of energy and I don't know how long I could sustain it.

I am about to drop from the ceiling to get my alcohol when there's a knock on my door. I narrow my eyes at the door, and flick my wrist letting it open. Soft light streams into the dark room, I resist the urge to hiss like a pissed off cat.

Bucky stands at the door, holding his one metal arm awkwardly. I notice the noise upstairs has gone quiet. And become uneasy about this situation.

Bucky clears his throat, "(y/n), uh, could you come down for a moment," he looked at me. I looked at him in an irritated way, but dropped from the ceiling, standing up gracefully. I cocked my head to one side waiting for an explanation.

"The guys upstairs wanted to if you'd like to join the Christmas party. You were invited,"

I said nothing only considered this. Invited.

"Um, I mean you don't have to, but you know, it'd be nice if you joined us in one of the group activities,"

Suddenly I spoke up, which seemed to take him by surprise. I almost never speak.

"What made you go?"

He considered my question.

"Steve said it might be fun. And I haven't had a Christmas sense the 40's so.."

That's right Capsicle Blonde and Capsicle Brown aren't even from this time period.

I looked at him he asked, "When was your last Christmas,"

I tried to control my powers as I became angary. Not with Bucky, just my life.

"Never had one," I spat

"Oh, uh, do you celebrate another holiday?" he asked. I knew he was trying to be polite.

"No,"

He just looked confused.

"Being the youngest child of 16, you get forgotten. And holidays can't be afforded,"

He looked at his feet.

"I'm sorry (y/n),"

'It doesn't matter,"

"But it does," he looked up

"And who are you to decide that,"

"No one deserves to spend Christmas alone," he said. That tugged at me.

"Well I've spent the last 24 for them alone, one more won't make a change,"

"You have to start somewhere," he looked at me "Start with one. Then next year another. Every year after that. You can start making good Christmas memories, and building trust and things,"

I eyed him suspiciously.

"What's got you in such high spirits that you are all the sudden so talkative?"

"I could ask you the same question,"

We stared at each other for a new long time, until he finally extended his hand to me, I wanted to smack it away, but instead I slipped my hand into his.

He didn't let my hand go and I didn't pull it away. I sat on the leather couch, and accepted a glass of champagne from Tony. I listened to their talk, and thought to myself about how this was either one of the best or worst decisions of my life.

I still said nothing and let no expression cross my face, but I guess I wasn't so hostile. When I decided I had enough, I rose to leave. But was caught, my hand was still inside of Bucky's nonmetal hand. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't allow it. Instead, he rose with me and walked me back to my room.

At the door, he finally let go. He looked at me, wanting to say something. The things I should have said, I did not. Instead I have him a curt nod and turned away. But not before, he could catch my hand again. I didn't pull it away, but I did not face him.

"Thanks (y/n)," he whispered. I took a deep breath.

"No, Thank you," I said turning to face him, giving his hand a squeeze.

Meanwhile back upstairs

"What do you think he did to make her come out?"

"I dunno, but it was weird, she wasn't glaring,"

"She's actually kinda pretty when she isn't slitting throats. Or wishing she was,"

"Seriously guys," "What did he do to bring her out?"

"Money says he kissed her,"

"Money says that he's doing her right now,"

"Money says you're all a bunch of morons," Bucky says from behind them.

"Well what did you do?"

"I asked nicely," he said.