8 | In My Blood

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Y/N

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"So after school today," Peter said, skipping down the hallway beside me, "I want to take you to Delmar's."

Class had just gotten out, and I found out that walking down a crowded hallway with sweaty teenagers was less than ideal. This was another reason to hate schools. Someone would accidentally brush past me, and I would tense up, and have to talk my other side down from raging out.

"Who's Delmar?" I frowned, ducking past a group of jocks, "I don't want to meet another one of your friends, Peter."

"Oh, he's great," the boy cheesed, "he owns this super cool deli in Queens-"

"So he's an adult?"

"Yeah, but he's still super cool."

"Peter, why are you friends with an adult?"

"Because he makes really good sandwiches."

I sighed, "Just be careful when talking to older people, they can be manipulative."

I was drawing my advice from my own experiences. Experiences with Hydra. I hated that everything I did led back to them, and this stupid metal arm. Peter giggled, tugging at the bottom of his blue Midtown shirt.

"Why?" He beamed, "are you worried about who I hang out with?"

I frowned, "I'm worried for your safety."

"Still means you're worried about me!"

I didn't respond, stopping in front of my locker and setting down my empty backpack. Yes, I was slightly worried about Peter, but who wouldn't be? The boy was a walking hazard.

I meant that in a nice way, I don't know how to give genuine compliments.

"I'm going to go find Ned," he said, "I promise I won't do anything bad till I come back."

"I probably wouldn't care."

"But you'd still worry," Peter teased, sliding away from me, "stay here, I'll be back."

I watched as he skid down the crowded hallway, almost tripping over his feet. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to my locker, and tried to open the lock. I couldn't.... Figure out... how to turn.. It? Jeez, my metal arm wasn't helping at all. I had to resist the urge to just rip it clean off.

As I tried to get it to work, my thoughts dwindled away from the locker and towards the group next to me. Their voices were hushed, as if they were talking about something they didn't want anyone else to hear.

"Coach Wilson's pathetic," a boy said, sticking out his chin in pride, "as if any one would believe he's friends with Captain America."

When I heard Steve's name, I stopped in my tracks. I was interested. The boy had his black hair slicked back, and was wearing a stupid blue polo. He looked like a rich prick.

The girl in front of him laughed, "tell me about it, Flash."

So his name was Flash. The rich prick continued, "and Captain America's also pathetic, I mean, seriously?"

I froze up, my eyes stuck unblinking.

"He's just a walking Dorito, Stark is so much better," Flash spat out, "Tony has a multi-billion company, and Cap resorts to making cringy gym videos for money.  Totally lame."

Without thinking, I pushed everyone else out of the way and grabbed Flash by the collar. Shoving his back against the locker, I flared my teeth in anger. I heard everyone in the hallway stop what they were doing to watch, and the whispers started to get louder than ever.

"Watch your mouth when talking about Steve," I growled, "he's more than you'll ever be."

I hated people like him. I hated that they would rather bad mouth a hero, than admit that they're incapable of being a decent human being.

"What the hell?" Flash whimpered, his eyes stuck on me in terror.

"The next time I hear you say anything about him, I'll break your arm," I said under my breath, "you hear me? I'll break your arm."

Some people were even videotaping it. I didn't care, I just saw the fear in his eyes, and it felt good. To see him so scared of me. Scared of what he said about Steve.

"[y/n]!"

Suddenly the fear in Flash's eyes scared me.

Peter came pushing through the crowd, his face tainted with confusion. He stared at me differently this time. Not in the friendly way he always had, but in a way that made me feel like a total stranger.

I loosened my grip, and Flash fell to the ground. Taking a step back, I stared at the faces of students staring at me. They were whispering, always whispering, and it was driving me insane.

Just like last time.

Longing.

My head snapped up when I heard those words. Someone said them, but I didn't know who.

Rusted.

Stop, no, not here.

Seventeen.

Peter was still standing there, unsure of what to do.

Daybreak.

I needed to get out of here.

Clamping my hands around my ears, I ran through the mass of people, blasting towards the doors as fast I could. As I scampered down the school and past the gates, I could heart my heart beating through my chest.

I thought I had changed. I wanted to change. I wanted to put the past behind me forever.

But today was proof. That moment was proof.

Everything I did was proof that I still had the winter soldier in me. It didn't want to go away.

Hydra was forever in my blood.

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