I wake to the sound of bacon frying, and faint humming. Shifting slightly, I realize that I'm in a blanket burrito, and need help getting out if I don't want to fall off the couch. I sigh, twitching my ears in annoyance.
"Screw it," I grumble, rolling off the couch and flopping onto the floor. Too lazy to stand up, I shift into a fox and pad into the kitchen and jump onto the counter. Zoey looks up, startled.
"Get off the counters, Rayn," she scolds. I chirp indignantly but jump down anyway, shifting as I do.
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"Already hyping me up? I'm not that scared," I sass. She rolls her eyes.
"Then why did you run from them, darling?" I scowl and wack her in the back of her head with my tail. She stares at me.
"What," I ask, thoroughly confuzzled.
"It's so fluffy and soft," she whispers. I back away slowly. She shuts off the stove and lunges at me. I squeal and run away. She chases me around the house for about five minutes. I shift into a fox and hide under the couch. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Zoey walks over to the door and opens it, but not before grabbing her mace and taser. I don't blame her. I mean, this is New York, people.
"Hello- oh my god. Captain America. Hi. Is there anything I can help you with," she asks, making sure to include Captain America, but while hiding her mace and taser. I freeze, then run out from under the couch to the bathroom, where my bags are.
"I'm looking for a 17-year-old girl, red hair, blue eyes. Have you seen her," he asks. I snort as I start changing.
"Name?" of course she would ask. Stalling for time was something Zoey specialized in.
"Rayn O'Connor. She hasn't done anything wrong-"
"Of course Rayn hasn't, THEY only want to live a peaceful life, and unfortunately for THEM, THEIR parents are shit," Zoey snaps.
"You know her?" Oh my god, he was adorable.
"Rayn's pronouns are they/them. So no, I don't know 'her', captain." I giggle at Zoey's sass. I take a deep breath, hide my tail and ears, then step out of the bathroom, into Steve's line of sight. Zoey turns around.
"And there's the little demon," she grins. I scowl at her but hug her from behind anyway. Resting my head on her shoulder, I nuzzle into her neck, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. "It's time to leave darling, we talked about this," she reprimands softly.
"I know, I know," I whine. She wraps her hand around mine. I pry my eyes open and glance at Steve from the corner of my eye. The jealousy on his face was adorable. I sigh and let go of Zoey.
"I'll go get my bags. But first," I hold up the taser and mace I had taken out of Zoey's pockets. "I'm taking these." I turn around and walk to the bathroom, leaving Steve and Zoey gaping.
"I didn't even feel her in my pockets," she pouts.
"Is that something she does a lot?"
"Yep." I giggle at her short response. I grab the three bags and walk back out.
"Miss you, love," I whisper, kissing Zoey on the cheek. I look at steve. "Are you gonna glare at me, or are you gonna take me to the tower," I snark.
"Let's go," he responds, then turns around. I sigh, then follow him. Outside the apartment complex was a sleek black car. Leaning against it was a tall man in a black leather jacket, with shoulder-length brown hair.
"Who's your buddy," I ask. I didn't recognize him, and it unnerved me. I spent a lot of time observing the Starks.
"That's Bucky. He's probably another one of your mates. He's the first mate I met, back in the forties," he answers, glancing back at me. Then it clicked.
"Bucky as in, Bucky Barnes? James Buchanan Barnes? Sergeant in WWII?" My voice raises slightly. My inner fangirl was going crazy. I see Bucky look up from the ground and at Steve and I. Damn supersoldier hearing.
"Yep. he was also the winter soldier," Steve chuckled.
"Yeah, I know that, I know from experience that people talking about your bad memories will make them haunt you longer, so I don't talk about other people's bad memories," I answer. There's a pause, then:
"That's a good rule to live by," Steve says quietly. I say nothing, because Steve and I were almost to the car, and because yet another soulmark starts to burn.
"So this is the little angel who's been causing so much trouble," he smirks. I meet it with a neutral expression.
"I'm not an angel," I answer.
"Well you sure look like it, doll," he laughs.
"I'm not a doll, sergeant," I respond coldly, and start putting my bags in the trunk. His smile fades a little, replaced by concern.
"Who hurt you, doll?" I freeze.
"It doesn't matter. What's done is done. What does matter is how I move forward. You aren't them. You aren't HYDRA," Bucky freezes at the mention of HYDRA. "And the other Avengers aren't either. I ran yesterday because I let my trauma rule my life and actions. Sorry." After I finish speaking, I get in the car, sliding all the way to the other end of the car. I try the door.
"Locking one door and blocking off the exit, huh? Looks like you learned your lesson," I joke.
"Well, you jumped out of a moving car, sweetheart. Of course we'd lock the door," Steve teases. Bucky shuts the door after he gets in.
"We were worried about you, doll," he admits. Hesitantly, he stretches his hand out, hovering it over my shoulder. I look at him but don't move. Taking that as a good sign, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. I tense, unused to physical contact without pain. Slowly, I relax into his side. It feels right, being against him. I close my eyes and burrow into his side, inhaling his scent.
"Are you going to accept the bonds, doll?" I hum, content to be with my mate.
"I think I will, Buck, I think I will," I yawn.
"Are you tired, doll? Are we that boring?" I shake my head.
"No. I tend to relax and sleep when I feel safe around people," I mumble, already falling asleep. The last thing I hear before I fall asleep is the sound of Bucky and steve laughing.
