Little Brat OG (An Avengers FanFiction)

Her Eyes

(Steve's P.O.V)

We shopped for a while. She seemed to enjoy t-shirts and jeans, not a whole lot of girly stuff. I kept glancing at her. She definitely reminded me of Bucky. The way she walked, the way she talked and how even though she considered us bad guys, she still treated us with respect. Her eyes were definitely odd. One blue and the other brown. Her eyes caught a newspaper on a table. They wondered over the page until she crumbled it up and threw it into the recycling. I grabbed it out of the trash and read the headline.

Girl with Terrifying Powers Slams Iron Man into a Wall

"Great, now I'm a bad guy," she mumbled, "This is exactly what he wanted me to avoid."

"Don't listen to those guys. They don't even know what they're talking about," I said, "Anyway, who's he?" I was hoping to get some answers out of her.

"Only the true hero," she said, "He's someone who could admit that he had nightmares too, and he had an obsession with plums." She laughed at the thought of this mystery guy.

"Can you tell me the name of this someone?" I asked. She paused.

"Uh... His name was Chris, Chris Logan. He was my dad," she stammered. I nodded. I could tell she was lying. You'd think a great pocket thief like her would be better at lying.

"Did he have eyes like yours?" I asked. She shook her head.

"No, but he did have blue eyes. He said that my mom had brown eyes though," she said, "He always said that my eyes were special and that I should be proud of them."

"So, you weren't adopted?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I don't know; we never really got to have that talk," she said, becoming quite angry.

(Pandora's P.O.V)

I was upset. I never knew if I was adopted or not. My dad and I kinda looked like each other. When we went shopping (mostly for plums) people would always say I looked just like him.

"I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about your family anymore," Steve said rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's fine, but I do want to ask you something. Why do you keep staring at me?" I asked.

"I'm like your guard. I have to stare at you," he said.

"No, you don't stare at me like it's your job you stare at me like your remembering something or someone. No, it's definitely a someone. I deduct that this person was a close friend?" I deducted.

"Well, you caught me. Yeah, you remind me of a very close friend," he sighed.

"What was their name?" I asked.

"His name was James Buchanan Barnes; you may have heard of him. He was a very famous soldier from World War II," he said. I nearly lost my shit. He knew my dad?!? "What? You recognize the name or something?" I nodded. Wait a minute, my dad was part of WW2?!?

(Time Skip brought to you by a random duck that has nothing to do with the story whatsoever)

We had walked around for a bit. I started feeling sick to my stomach. He told me a lot about my dad and it was hard to take in. I tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. He looked towards me. I could feel my body heat rising.

"Can we go back to the tower?" I asked in between pants.

"You okay?" he asked.

"No... that's why I asked to go back to the tower," I said. I winced. The heat was rising inside of me as if I could burst at any moment. "Dad!" I yelled as I lost consciousness.