The Story Book

  Cont... AJ hadn't been able to sleep. Everything had been such a blur today, and he knew he was supposed to be asleep, his body was begging for it, but his mind wouldn't let him. It was moving too fast for his body to control.  The van. The cage. Those people. The red dots floating over him and Cass. Uncle Bucky's eyes looking at him calmly.  It felt like every nerve in his body was standing on end. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt safe anymore.  He curled tighter around Cass, inhaling deeply of the blankets and pillow. It smelled like Bucky and faintly of Mama's lavender laundry detergent. The smell soothed his body. It didn't quiet his mind.  All he could think of was how his Uncle had smelled like gunpowder when he'd last seen him. He only ever smelled like gunpowder when he was packing. His Uncle always checked his weapons meticulously before he used them. Because of this, he would smell of gunpowder when he was done.  AJ had found the smell comforting and

  Cont... Sarah broke her fourth teabag, fiddling nervously with the string. She was usually a coffee gal, but after the last few days, the calming effects of chamomile were a welcome change. She'd also learned that after eight cups, it stopped working.  She dumped the used bag into the trash and rinsed the cup. The leaves from earlier bags were stuck to the bottom, so she had to scrub harder to get it out. Her hands slipped, and the cup dropped out of her hands into the sink with a thunk.  Sarah inhaled deeply, trying to stop her hands from shaking. They'd been doing that since the boys came back—adrenaline crash. The words floated past from an encounter after a tough mission that resulted in Bucky falling asleep on the floor of her bathroom, not half out of his gear. That's what she was experiencing. It shouldn't be like this. Now that they were safe, she should be happy, relieved even, but all she had was anxiety that wouldn't leave her alone. They were both asle

Cont...  It took Shuri five hours to disconnect the vibranium buffer. She called them in a panic and rattled off coordinates faster than her mouth could work. When Rhodey plugged in the coordinates, it was like someone had punched Sam in the chest. Ten miles outside the city. They hadn't ever really left.  He was out the door and ten feet in the air before Rhodey could finish transmitting the location to his HUD. A mechanical whish behind him told Sam that Torres was coming too. They made the trip in less than five minutes and smashed through the warehouse window.  Sam unfurled his wings wide, kept the shield in front of him, and extended his guns, ready to fight, only to come to two sickening realizations. One, there was no one in the warehouse. And two, there was blood all over the floor.  Torres swore as he landed on the beams above as Sam hovered over the gristly scene. Whether because the floor is still wet and glistening with too much blood to be healthy or because sitting in

  Cont... Torres never ever wants to see the raw fear that floods Sam's face as he stands there in the middle of the street. It's not just fear either; it's hopelessness. Then the emotions are gone.  "Start scanning surrounding areas for matching vehicles." Sam orders and starts walking with purpose back towards the ops center.  "Already started. They're good, though. There're no cameras in that area." Rhodey says.  Sam growls under his breath, "I know."  Torres can barely keep up with Sam as he pushes through the crowd. He's never seen Sam with this single-minded focus, this all-consuming drive. Sam's always the guy with three things going at once and four steps planned out for each thing. Right now, there's none of that preparedness. Just one thing, find his brother.  "How'd Overwatch go offline? I thought that would take at least three weeks to wear off?" Torres asks, referring to the tracking spray they had