Secretive - Bucky Barnes

70 || Power

[Nova]
I did not speak to James at all. I got my clothes into bags during the hour, ignoring his every-ten-minutes-self-repeating knocks entirely, before walking to the elevator, knowing Tony's jet must be on the roof, still. In times like this, Iron Man wanted and needed to be ready for a fast departure.

James is not in front of my door anymore, and I would have cared more if it was not for his lie.

My attitude dropped during the last half an hour, and the hurt creeped its way back like a snake. He knows I am disgusted by lies, more disgusted than I could ever be of any torture or broken bargain or whatever. He knows perfectly well how much he means to me, and although he – as he says – wanted only good for me, it is tearing me into pieces.

I trusted him. I trusted his promise. How can I see his words as true again after this?

Perhaps, I am overreacting. Perhaps, I should not take it as serious.

But it is the second time he lied to me, the first knowing I feel personally more offended than others might. And he kept it a secret, so he knew it would have a rather negative affect on me, did he not? He is not stupid. Not at all.

At least, he got out well. He is not hurt, and did not sound as his life was in danger. But how can someone be as blind and simply stay in a burning house?

Shaking my head, I push the button to the roof. The doors close, and none of the others are passing my way. Of course they do not; Steve and I just woke them up, and with my announce of an hour, one or the other needs to hurry to get into the jet on time.

Admittedly, I am a little nervous about the flight. Never have I ever actually been pilot all on my own, and I could not, being myself. My eyes are way too bad. Although I can see everything without my glasses, the paper says I am not even allowed to drive a car without help in sight, and much less an airplane.

I got my glasses with me for the emergency case nonetheless; usually, I cannot simply push a button and there she is. But with James and Natasha both on board, I could almost not care less about the mask placing itself feather light on my skin, and underneath it.

Getting my suitcase in the holder above the seats, a wave of tiredness swaps over me. I really should have thought through this before simply announcing the flight. If my lids get heavy, I do not know if anyone else is able to overtake the job. Sighing, I accept my own destiny: I got to fly it one way or the other, so I could use a short nap.

Twenty minutes later, I wake up in the pilot's seat by noises from the passenger's area.

Straightening myself, I do not care for looking who has come and who plans on staying back. With a tiny intensity each, both annoyance and relief spreads through my veins. Annoyance, because I definitely will have to fight this organization with them, and relief, because I do not know what is incoming, waiting for me in London. Is there an army? Is it just Chloe wanting me to kill her? Is it a trap? Never have I ever believed to feel relaxed about knowing someone at my side in a fight.

Perhaps, I am way too selfish. The only reason I can think of being happy about them, is not to have to kill so many people on my own and pushing my body count higher and higher. But that is something I can worry later about.

Twenty minutes definitely are not enough, but they will have to work. I will fly them to England's capital, and cursing my stubborn ass, I promise myself to get all the passengers to London healthy and without a broken bone. It is what a captain does, no matter riding a ship or an airplane.

The wiping noise of mechanic doors tells me someone entered the cockpit.

They close again, and I can smell his distinctive scent before I even take sight of him. Tensing, I try to ignore how comfortable my body feels when remembered of frozen river. Stupid thing. A body should work how my mind wants it, and not having the ability to remember things all on its own.