The Red Widow-Bucky Barnes Daughter

Beginning

I wake up as I here the sound of pots banging against each other, that's also when I noticed that my pillow is harder than I remember. It's because it's countertop, I must have fallen asleep here waiting for Bucky to come down and make tea.

Me and Bucky have an unspoken tradition, almost every night we end up sitting in the main floor kitchen making tea, sometimes also spilling it to each other. We talk about the most random of things while drinking chamomile, sometimes it's about school and modern life, sometimes about politics, sometimes about most recent missions or annoying team members, but a lot of times it's our nightmare, in other words our pasts.

It's a little weird when we talk about our pasts and memories, he tries to keep it pretty PG for me so, I don't get nightmares from it, but he doesn't realize that a lot of times, I was in his nightmares too, he just doesn't remember yet. I also try to keep it pretty simple/blunt, if he doesn't remember me in his pasts, then I won't discuss us. Even if it kills me to pretend. I will, he's just not ready. We do get some graphic details of it, words that just spill out, too fast to process, and take all the air of your lungs with it. Also known as panic attacks. There is also times where we barely talk at all, between filling out notebooks and drawing, there isn't the space in our heads.

No one else knows we do this, no one else needs to. If we did tell them, it would then be a big thing, which would end up with all of us having to sit there, and not being comfortable actually talking, or them stopping us because they wouldn't approve of a seemingly innocent, stable, child talking to a broken ex assassin at 2 am. We barely speak of it either.

Last night was a bit different though, I guess they had to do some debriefing at shield until late. I'll talk to him about it later.

As of now, though, I have Sam poking me in the shoulder as I stare off. I tend to stare off a lot.

"Hey kid," he says as he ruffles through my hair. This has become pretty regular for the past month I've been here, I think he gets jealous of my hair.

"Hey, Sam"
"Why were you sleeping on the counter?"
"I did not expect y'all to be gone for that long, I thought you'd be back by midnight and wanted to stay up."

I tend to do this, I can't sleep unless I know they're all safe. In other words, I don't sleep a lot.

"Oh,"I hear Sam say.
"Yeah"
"Well we're making waffles if you want any"
"Sounds Good"

After eating some waffles I decided to head down up to my room to watercolor. I'm really into art, and I'm pretty good at it too. I draw a lot of eyes, sometimes it creeps people out, others say that maybe I just see people's souls, after all they are the windows to them, and some just don't care. I tend to use a lot of different mediums too, I like most of them even though I'm currently working with charcoal and watercolor.

It's lunch by time I finish so I through a pizza in my oven. That's right MY oven. Everyone has their own apartment, including 3 bedrooms, a kitchen, a very large living space, all open and connecting, then a bathroom, walk in closet, and two other random rooms that can be transformed.

I of course burn the pizza as always. I can't tell if it's me or the oven, but someone always messes up. I'll blame the oven on this one.

I mess everything up.