pennysheets | New Avengers Tower

The press meeting takes way too long. Then they're all taken to a hospital, because most of them are injured in some way. Then Mel takes them back to that stupid tower. Avengers Tower. Watchtower. New Avengers Tower. Nobody knows what they're calling it.

They get a tour, even though they're exhausted and grouchy, and even though half the tower is clearly in some state of construction and clearly not ready to be shown off. The labs are complete, hastily so, but none of them are going to be going anywhere near those. The rooftop bar is still in shambles, and none of them want to linger there. The kitchen and restaurant-like eating areas spiraled out around it seem intact, and well-stocked, at least.

They each have their own floor. Stark had originally made a whole floor for each of his superhero buddies, which hadn't really been renovated at all even in the multiple years the Avengers had been toast, so now they're the cleanest and least disturbed of the whole tower.

Bucky gets Steve's, Walker gets Thor's, Ava gets Clint's.

Yelena gets the one meant for Natasha. Of course.

And Bob gets Banner's, with its combination of calming decor and Hulk-proof walls.

Then they're left alone to "rest" with the promise that Mel and Valentina will be in touch over the next few days, which sounds more like a threat than anything else.

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"There were," Yelena allows. "And he is not a stupid man. Which is another reason we can't just keep him in the dark. Even if none of us says anything, and we manage to run interference so Valentina can't use it as a weapon, it's going to be all over the news, all over the internet. And that would be a much worse way for him to find out."

"He'd have to look it up, for that to be a problem," Bucky comments dryly. "But yeah, it's possible Walker or Shostokov decides to turn on the news or something. I guess we tell him. And that means we circle back to what else you're missing from what we need to tell him."

"A lot," Yelena says. "But I will settle for what happened after the vault for now, if we can dig it up. If Val was smart, the labs would be separate from the main security feeds, but this entire operation must have been thrown together in a hurry."

"Well, you're in luck, because I think a lot of that happened here," Bucky says, glad that the generally awful shit he spent last night reviewing and putting together will at least be useful to somebody. "There's no video from inside that weird trailer, but there's audio, and there's video from a couple other places around the tower that they passed through."

He finishes his coffee, and asks, "Do you want breakfast first, or surveillance videos first?"

She considers for a moment, then says, "Breakfast first. I saw some cereal while I was looking for the coffee, and I think the videos will probably kill my appetite."

"Ugh, cereal." So boring and unfilling. But it's better than nothing, and Bucky has long ago learned not to be picky. Besides, the pizza from the night before is gone, he'd checked that on his way out. Clearly someone else found it while he was working.

He picks himself up to go looking for said cereal. "We're gonna have to go grocery shopping. And a lot of it. Three supersoldiers are going to go through a lot of food, all on our own." Yelena's on the small end and Ava-- he doesn't know what kind of fuel her powers run on. Bob... might be calories like them, he still isn't sure what went into him. Definitely not your typical supersoldier serum. That doesn't make you fly. Or teleport people into depression dimensions.

"If you're nice to me, I'll make syrniki some morning," Yelena says with a little smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "We can arrange a grocery run this afternoon. Or just live on take-out for a few days until we have the chance to make sure we've found all the rooms in this place and take stock of what we have."

"I mean, I was already planning on being nice to you," Bucky says, tone halfway to joking, even though it's the truth, pulling a box of some generic brand sugary flakes out of the cupboard. "But now I've got real incentive. I haven't had actual syrniki since the eighties."

"The last time I made them, we were still working on freeing the rest of the Widows," Yelena says, expression going ever so slightly distant. "A treat for the little ones, so they wouldn't go stir-crazy stuck in the safehouse."

She snaps back into focus, and shrugs slightly. "But it hasn't really been that long, with the Blip, and I know the recipe like the back of my hand."

Bucky hesitates a brief moment, back to her as he collects some bowls. Little ones? There were still kids in the Red Room when Yelena busted out, however and whenever she did that? He feels a little sick that he hadn't known. He had thought the whole thing had gone down years ago, but mostly because he'd been so busy with his own shit that he hadn't thought about it for two minutes to recognize that organizations like that are difficult to take down. Hell, HYDRA still has its slimy little tentacles in a few places, he knows.

It's a brief pause, but Yelena, a spy, will at least notice it if not know why he made it. He turns back with a carefully blank expression. "You got dusted, too, huh?" He sets both bowls on the counter and goes in search of milk. This won't work nearly as well if there's no milk.

She nods slightly. "So did Alexei. So did a lot of people, I guess. You can flip a coin for each one, more or less."

There is, in fact, milk in the fridge, the hyper-pasteurized kind in a plastic bottle that comes with an expiry date that's frighteningly far out. Yelena watches him search for it, her own expression a more natural-looking neutrality that is, in fact, just as constructed.

"I started working for Valentina after I got back."

"Mm, probably not the best choice, since she apparently tried to have to killed," Bucky says, casually enough to make it clear he means it as a joke. "But then, I ran for Congress, so who am I to judge?" That was, in hindsight, probably just as stupid of a decision.

He produces the milk and some spoons, bringing them both back. "Looks like we get a real breakfast, after all."

"Well, I did try to get a job at Best Buy, but it turns out 'mind controlled assassin' does not really count as customer service experience," she replies with a little shrug, expression grave enough that it can't possibly be genuine. "A girl has to eat."

And with that, she peels away from the counter to join him at the table, for a breakfast neither of them has had to kill for.

New Avengers Tower

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