INFINITE WAR✧･ BARNES

one.

Steve's secret Avengers. That was what we had been.

I had no idea where anyone else had gone, including my father, but the people here, Mama, myself, Sam, and Steve, all made up what was Steve's secret Avengers.

The secret bit came from the miniature problem where all of us should have been in captivity for disobeying the law. But here we were, still on the run and fighting for what was right. Part of me hoped that this super secret included spending some time with Bucky. I was disappointed when I saw that he wasn't a part of this.

There was never a guaranteed place for us to stay. We were always moving from building to building, home to home. This new life consisted of carjacking and running. Sometimes starving and stealing. I felt like it wasn't for me. I would have gathered be settled down in Wakanda, back in my room where there were almost no troubles and I was nothing but protected. I missed the natural, woody, herby smelling fumes that I woke up to everyday. In this life, I never knew whether or not I would see tomorrow. And that scared me.

I didn't even know where I was. It was the opposite of urban but not quite rural. There wasn't much surrounding us at all. A few acres of land that we were most likely trespassing on, maybe some wildlife, and this random underground bunker that Steve somehow remembered being here back in his war hero days. He took us here and now we retreated here most of the time.

The secret avengers thing sounded pretty exciting. In reality, though, it was extremely uneventful. That was only because it was hard to find out about anything that was going on if it was impossible for us to always be around. We were criminals. The second we went out to help, we would be met by police and authorities who were out to do the same. They would recognize us and take us away in an instant. So this job wasn't as simple and dainty. We couldn't just go out there and expect to easily get the job done.

On top of the authorities having it out for us, some civilians did too. No matter where we would go, the people after us were a phone number away. They wanted us back in custody. And hey weren't going to give up until that was where we were.

I played with an old pen that I found resting on former Colonel Phillips' desk. I twiddled it between my fingers as I rested my head in my other hand. I could feel my stomach scowling hard at me since I hadn't eaten in a while. This lifestyle had been on repeat for the last month or so. I was starting to get tired of the lac of everything. The only thing I could promise there was no lack of was the constant boredom.

The bunker was far from pretty. I couldn't have explained how many bugs and spider webs and dead animals we had found in it. There was nothing but dust covering any object that decorated it. There were spiderwebs connecting each wall. There were no showers or ways of sanitation. I felt like an animal; one of the dead ones that we had thrown out.

As I sat, with nothing better to do, my brain replayed the words that my mom had told me once she came back home to pick me up. Something bad was supposed to be coming. And I don't remember her offering much of an explanation as to what that could have been. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to remember it.

Now that I took the time to remember it, my mom had never really told me anything about what was supposed to happen. She told me that something bad was coming, but nothing bad had been here. If this boredom and hunger wasn't it, then I couldn't have imagined what it was. I jumped to my feet and quickly walked my way around the bunker hoping to have this conversation.

"Mama," I called, checking my shoulders each time I made it past another hall or room.

"This way," she responded so that it was easier for me to find her.

I had turned on my heel and jogged in the other direction, running into her sitting on a table as she stared at the floor with a radio beside her. I could tell thatch was listening intently. But I didn't care. We needed to talk.

I shut off the radio which got me her full attention. And also a scowl of reprimand that made me regret it.

"Why are we here?" I asked, getting straight to the point. She reached to turn the radio back on so I snatched it away and held it as I waited expectantly for her answer.

She rolled her eyes and moved her hands back to her sides. I smirked victoriously as I watched her part her lips to respond.

"I've already told you," she said with a glare on her face. "Our mission right now is to help Steve. It's like a smaller version of whatever we used to be," she explained, looking away from me like she didn't want to go any further.

I raised an eyebrow at the weird reaction. "Well, Steve has been helped. So why are we still here?"

"Zola," my mom said, shaking her head. "We are criminals. Where are we gonna go?" She asked rhetorically so that mu own errors in thinking became apparent to me.

I hesitated. "Papa's a criminal. And Lang, and Wanda. Where are they?" I ask because it was clear to me that there had to be another way. I figured I had her quiet because it was a good point.

"Probably exactly what we are," she shrugged.

I groaned in frustration and dropped my arms at my sides. "But you said something bad was coming," I remind, tracing the lines in the table as I waited for her to respond.

"There is," she says, getting up. My eyes followed her to another room before she came back with two boxes in her hands. I inspected the boxes  carefully as she came closer. It was hair dye. Two blonde packages. "That's why we have to be ready."

"Ready for what, though?" I asked, grabbing the box once it was close enough. I read over all of the packaging to make sure this wouldn't kill my hair.

"I don't know. But I know it's not good," she shakes her head. I could tell from the distant stare in her eyes- she knew more than she was letting on. If it was something too personal for her or something that hit her too close to home, she would hide it from me. So, I started guessing.

"Does this have to do with Papa?"

She hesitated. I smirked the smallest bit. I knew I was right.

"I'm not sure yet," she responds honestly. I could see her gears moving, so I knew that that wasn't it. "But I'm pretty sure that it does."

I nodded my head in understanding. "Did he do something?"

She scoffed. "No," she responds. "It's more about what they did to him," she reminds, biting her lip as she faded out thinking about it. "But again, not too sure."

I nodded in understanding again, even if I hardly understood what she was saying at all.

"So, how are we doing this?" I asked, motioning to the hair dye.

She shrugged, lifting the box so that she could find the directions. "Been a while."

And I liked that while, actually. The one where we got to relax and stop the running and hiding and fighting. I liked that while.

"Probably a good thing," I added in a mutter.

I heard a ringing noise coming from the room next door. I narrowed my eyes quickly...We didn't have any phones in the area. We had nothing of the sort. Otherwise, our location would be easily compromised.

The ringing continued so I chose to follow it. I could see my mom halt in her movements as well. Her eyes followed me into the next room where the sound was coming from.

I was almost afraid before I stepped into the room and saw Steve sitting on the floor. It could've been some kind of scary, weird joke that someone was trying to play on us. But Steve slowly climbed to his feet, staring at a small device in his hand. It wouldn't stop ringing. It was probably the first phone I had seen in what felt like a year.

Steve stared at it like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. I became curious. What did this mean for us? Was our position found? We're we in trouble? or was everyone in trouble?

He lifted his eyes to me hesitantly. "Suit up."

The instructions were simple. No other dialogue was needed and no other explanation. He had a dangerous stare on his face; a serious and scary one. That was how I knew that this couldn't have been good.

I was just hoping that maybe it had nothing to do with what my mom had told me about earlier.