An Attempt at Sunshine (Winter Soldier) (Marvel)

[17.00] [October 20, 2015]

I am writing on the back of the page in the sketchbook ghost-boy gave me. I want to remember every little thing he says, every bit of information I can glean from him. My handwriting is strained, half forgotten, and refuses to run in straight lines across the page. Instead I write in columns.

A shadow crosses the glass, the door clicks.

Fury.

"What are you up to?" he asks casually.

I close the book and tuck the pencil in the spiral metal coil.

"Fair enough. I'm here to take you upstairs."

I don't know if I should be excited or scared.

"Oh- also, before I forget." He takes something out of his coat pocket and unfolds it, staring at it. "Captain Rogers wanted me to give this back to you."

He places the mask in my hands. I slip it on. Safe.

"Alright, on your feet soldier."

I pick up the book and pad softly out the door. The polished tile is cold on my socked feet. I am surprised when he doesn't cuff me, or at least bring guards along. We wind through the halls, all too similar to the ones at home, no, the compound. I receive stares from the other inmates, the other guards, everyone passing by.

We slip up flights of stairs, and I'm half worried he'll take over and throw me over the banister and into the control room below. He opens a door to our right, and we enter a long, bright hallway. The walls are white, but they are not harsh. The light is broken up by the charcoal grey doors lining the corridor to our left. Each of them are labeled in white paint in several hand writings, some with doodles or intricate designs. I read them as we walk.

'CLINT (why are you knocking? You know better than that.)' 'NATASHA with a bunch of spiders obviously doodled by several different people' 'VISION and in a different handwriting- why does this room even HAVE a door??' TONY, PETER, SAM, WANDA, BRUCE, THOR, the doors go on and on.

I stop in front of one of the last doors in the hall. 'STEVE' The door is almost all white, beautifully decorated with images and dates. It takes me a moment to realize that they are all real life moments, documented like a journal on the door.

Fury turns to me.

"Are you ready?"

I cock my head. For what?

"You're going to be staying here for a while, at the end of this hall is the commons area, most of the people you'll be staying with are in there. Okay?"

I suddenly feel inadequate in my blue uniform, my dirty socks, unwashed hair, the mask drawing too much attention.

"You'll do fine."

I don't believe him.

I stand just in front of the archway, I can see a kitchen from here, but no people. A pair of hands on my back startles me, I am pushed, I gasp and almost start coughing, but I stop breathing instead.

All eyes on me.

Ghost-boy, fire-girl, a man with glasses and curly dark hair, a boy with sunshine in his eyes and a lopsided grin, one of the largest men I've ever seen with long blonde hair, one man sits on the ground by the coffee table, banging his head against it. I'm not sure why.

Please don't hurt me

I ache for a gun at my side, a knife on my belt.

Ghost-boy walks up to me and puts his arm around my shoulder and leads me towards everyone. My insides scream from the contact but I do not push him away. I want to dig my heels into the grey carpet, push him to the ground and sprint away but I do not.