I blinked my eyes open, glancing at my right, where the empty cup laid on the floor.

I licked my lips, wondering if I was going insane. But I was going to try anyways, I was alone so no one would really judge me. I cleared my throat, listening to the quiet humming coming from the walls.

"excuse me, could you tell me the time?" I stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed.

"it's 7:13AM currently, sir."

I thanked the voice coming from the walls, the voice they called FRI. Whatever that means.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the cracks coming from my spine as I stood up from the floor.

I looked down wondering if I should change. Maybe it was a normal thing to change from sleeping clothes.

So, I opened the mysterious drawer and picked random pants and a t-shirt that felt comfortable.
I remembered Lokis word for looking civil. He had told me to comb my hair.

I didn't even have a comb.

I pursed my lips, deciding to just wet my fingertips with the cold water and slide them through my hair, making them a little bit more tame and go back, looking slightly like the style Loki used. I didn't care much, so I wondered down the halls to the only room I was allowed to go.

The living room.

I heard quiet talking, deciding not to interfere I quietly went to sit on one of the couches that was turned towards the window.

It was really magnificent, truly. The way everything worked was just entertaing. I tilted my head, watching a flock of grey birds on opposite building, doing absolutely nothing.

How useless creatures.

Almost as one beast, they all suddenly flew up, not a single bird staying behind.

Useless but united.

"You're up early, are you hungry?" familiar voice greeted me, making me tense up for not having realised someone had entered the living room. I felt a wet nose sniff the palm of my hand as I glanced down, finding the familiar one-eyed dog called Lucky.

"No I am not hungry." I found myself answering as I slid my thumb over  the dogs nose. His fur was pale and glistened gold against the sun. He sat down, pressing his furry body against my leg and closed his on eye in bliss as he snuggled closer to my touch.

Greedy but cute.

"Not hungry? I thought Bruce had told you you needed to have fine diet? That means, having breakfast, lunch and dinner. Besides, you'll have a long day ahead of yourself kid." I sighed, turning towards Steve as I pulled away from the dog who licked my fingertips.

"I do not feel as if I want to eat, but if that's what you say then so be it." I told Steve who was leaning against the doorframe, letting the rising sun kiss his sky blue eyes, making them even lighter. The troubled look crossed his face as he looked at me straight in the eyes.

"No one is forcing you to do here anything, if you're really not hungry, I'm not going to push the food down your throat. But just heads up, Bruce might once he gets to know about it." the Captain chuckled, patting the golden dog who trotted by him into the kitchen.

I shrugged, not knowing what to answer. "But anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

I hesitated for a second, but Steve's reassuring smile made me nod "Hot cocoa would be... Nice sir."

"Buck prefers that as well, come on, I think we have some marshmallows as well unless Wanda ate them all again." he laughed as I followed him into the kitchen. Natasha was sitting on one of the high stools, her right leg over another as she took a sip of her coffee, her green eyes analysing me from head to toe, I didn't mind.

"Morning kid!"

What caught my attention was Clint, who was sitting cross legged on the table. I wasn't really caught off by the fact that he was sitting on the table, or that there was a gun before him that he was cleaning. But the see-through bottle that was next to the cleaning tools is what made me frown. It had something in white letters written over red, the liquid itself was pitch black.

And I could swear I had seen it before.

"Would you like a Coke, Atlas?" I snapped my eyes to Natasha, who was eyeing me emotionlessly. "You think it's a good idea to give him something so sugary in the morning? I don't know about that Nat..."

"no Steve, he recognized the bottle."

All three looked at me quizzically, making me lick my lips anxiously. "I didn't, not really, it just looked familiar. I mean, I don't, I-I uh, don't know." I stuttered feeling shame build up. Clint laughed, picking the bottle up and holding it out at me.

"Go on, take a sip and taste the feeling kid! Might as well give it a shot."

And I did, a smile graced my dry lips as the memory displayed in my mind after the dark colored drink touched my tastebuds. 

There was Pietro and I just against the world, buying sweets and coca-cola. I could remember a bottle of Cola being one of the first things Pietro had offered me, and then we had drank it in some kind of diner.

"Okay, give it back, it's too early for you buddy." Clint said, snatching the cold bottle from between my fingers. "Thank you, Clint." He chocked on the drink, staring at me wide eyed. 

“Hey anyone? Got-- Nat where's your phone? I need to record this and send it to the President, we need to--”

“Shut your trap Clint, not all of us had had the pleasure of sneaking into the Presidents head quarters on their daughters wedding.”

“Well, Natasha, but not all of us had had the pleasure of making out with the cashier who ended up as the head of Russian--”

“If you want to keep your hearing aids in your ears and not in your eyes, I suggest you shut it Barton.”

“I suggest you both stop this talk and get eating.” Steve said firmly, making Clint sigh and plop head first on the table. Steve placed a pile of sandwiches on the table, making Clint stir immediately. “Clint.” he said pointedly, making the assassin roll off the table and catch himself the last minute.

“Hey Atty Batty? Want a bite?” the man whose hands were oil stained and had gun powder on the tips of his fingers held a sandwich out to me. I shook my head. I turned around, feeling someone's presence in the living room, I tensed sniffing the air for unfamiliar smells, only to relax when I realized it was just Bucky.

“What's that on your face?” Natasha questioned me intensively, making me frown at her. “What? What's there?” Steve asked, cutting curious Bucky from my line of sigh as he bent closer to inspect my confused face.

I tensed, noticing his friendly, sky blue eyes harden as he looked my face over. “Who did it?” I could feel the anger in him, it made me uneasy, I took a hesitant step back. Bucky marched closer, making me hiss at him when he curled his cold fingers under my chin and inspect whatever they found, with his metal hand, he brushed my dark hair away from my temple, touching the bruise there.

I yerked my head back, showing him my teeth, letting him know I did not like close proximity. “Who did it, punk?” Bucky asked me about the bruises I had forgotten all about. They weren't even the bad kind of bruises.

I shrugged, still tense as I watched Clint who was exchanging looks with Natasha, they seemed to communicate with just their eyes. “Wanda.” I said, not seeing the big deal.

“Wanda?” Steve asked hesitantly, looking surprised while Bucky seemed ti have trouble trying to keep his face void of emotion. “Why?” the red head asked, eyeing Bucky as if the man was going to explode. “She thought I was going to escape.”

Clint stood in the doorway, and he was once again in the role of a guard. I really didn't know why was it needed. “were you going to?”

I snapped my head towards Clint, he held the eye contact and behind his friendly, sweet eyes I did saw the hint of an assassin, hint of a thief, hint of a man who wouldn't hesitate to remove any object or in my case, a person if it meant he could keep his family safe.

“No, I wanted to make tea.” I said, still feeling very uneasy in this atmosphere. “This bitch should learn her place and not attack people who want tea.” Bucky growled, glaring daggers with his eyes.

“Buck, language.”

“Fuck the language, Steve! Tell your friend to back off.”

I ignored them completely, instead, I focused on the person who inalvaded the living room. The person I did not really want to meet, he was a bad man in the middle of good.

I tensed, Nat noticed immediately my far-away look as she stood up, looking at the doorway.

“good morning Director.”

“I can see you've seemed to have gotten quite fond of the subject Romanoff. Captain, Barnes.” the man with one eye greeted the supersoldiers, making Clint roll his eyes “Barton” the assassin muttered, not earning another glance from the director.

His eye landed on me and I was sure to keep my eyes up and not look down like Loki had said.

“Should we move ourselves to interrogation room?”

A/N

I should study. But here I am hehheheheeeee

So, I've had some ideas.... Gonna write a description here about one of them, mind telling my your thoughts about it?

Ray Rogers was seemingly a simple man. He had a small flat that definitely had rat problems, a job that paid him enough to get by and weird neighbours who were possibly growing pot on their balcony.

But there was always something that kept bugging the man, and he was going to figure out why exactly was it that he was unable to remember his childhood, teenage years and all in all, half of his life.

Söööö would you wanna read it?

But, thanks for reading my story, just a friendly reminder, if you want someone to talk to, don't hesitate to hit me up!

I love you all, thank you for being here xx