ZOLA

(A/N Did I shock y'all? sorry ab that)

IT'S MY father. I sigh in relief as I brush off some of the glass. I check myself to see if I have any serious wounds.

My leg is crushed in between the ground and my destroyed motorcycle. I am not feeling the pain either because of my high pain tolerance, or the adrenaline is still running through me.

    Papa rushes over to me when he exits out of his vehicle.

    "Vera! My god you scared me! I got in the car to try to get to you, and I was so worried." He rambled, while effortlessly lifting the bike up off of me.

"It's okay Papa. I'm fine now, no harm done."

    "No harm done?! You were being chased by who in the world knows, Peter calls saying your phone died so I couldn't make sure you were okay, then you get hit by my truck on your motorcycle!"

    I don't shrink at his tone of voice, trusting Bucky completely, but I do lower my eyes from the shame my father is giving off.

    He sighs, running a hand through his long hair. "I'm sorry I yelled. It's not your fault, not any of this. Now get in the car, we're going home."

He easily puts the bike in the bed of his truck, rounding to open my door. Ever the gentleman. I hop in with a wince, the wounds not fully healed yet. The adrenaline is wearing off, but like I said before, high pain tolerance.

He drives us the rest of the way home. We are in a comfortable silence the whole way.

    He pulls his truck into the garage, turning it off. We sit there for a few minutes longer.

"Do you have any idea who those people were?"

"Not really. Can we not tell everyone about this, I don't want to make a big deal about nothing."

"It's not nothing. People are after you, you know that. I don't like it, but there are probably going to be more appearances of people who are like that. We just have to accept that."

"We don't have to, you know? You can tell me to go away, I'll leave. It will leave you all a lot safer. You guys don't want me around anyways, I'm a mess."

He gives me the most serious look. "Don't you ever say that. We are your family. I am your family. I love you, and you are an amazing person. You are not a mess, to anyone."

I get out of the vehicle, and inside the house. I run straight up to my room, avoiding everyone around. I plug up my phone to the charger, watching the battery bring it to life once more.

    I contemplate if I should actually go downstairs. Even if my dad didn't tell them, Peter would of told Tony, and him telling everyone else.

    It's not like I want to keep it a secret for a dark reason. It's just that they'll get worried and ask a lot of questions, and they don't need to do that for me.

    I get dressed into some clean, non-bloody clothes. I lay back on my bed to think some more.

    Before I can really decide, there's a knock at my door.

    "It's open," I respond to the knock, sitting up in the bed. Uncle Steve walks in with a sympathetic look. "You don't have to do that, ya know."

    "Do what?" He asks, situating himself beside me on the bed.

    "Care," I rest my head on his muscly arms. I'm too short to reach all the way up to his shoulders.

    "I'm going to care, and you can't stop me from doing it."

    "That's what I'm telling you! You don't have to! I'm messed up, okay?! I know that! It probably sounds like I'm trying to be all mopey and depressed, but I am! I'm a mess! I'm not meant for a life full of love, not meant to have a family! You should of left me in that HYDRA base."

    He stays silent for a couple seconds, before turning to me.

    "Don't give me that look," I comment on the face he is making.

    "What look? I'm not giving you a look."

    "Yes you are! That look," I smile a little as his face contorts into one of confusion.

    "I'll show you a look," he mutters before he starts to tickle me.

    "N-no Uncle Stevie! Haha! I-it hurts, s-stop it!" He continues for a moment longer, finally stopping after I start to slap his arms.

    "Want to come downstairs?" He questions gently. I heave a sigh, nodding slightly.

    "I'm coming, let me talk to Pete and tell him that I'm okay."

    I grab my phone that is only at ten percent, calling Petey. He answers instantly. He always does.

   "Oh my god, are you okay?"

    "Will people stop asking me that? Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little shaken up, are you? I don't think they followed you guys too."

    "We're fine. We were so afraid that they got you! Then your phone died, and I had to call your dad. Which he responded very colorfully. That guy has a mouth on him, just don't tell him I said that. Hey, Seb wants to talk to you, here ya go."

    I hear the phone move around a bit, before a smooth voices rings through my ears.

    "Hey, Vera Lee." Sebastian sighs out.

    "My middle name isn't Lee."

    "Well I wanted to give you a nickname no one else called you, so I went with something random."

    "That's cheesy. It's cute," I comment with a soft smile on my face.

     "Well obviously, I picked it out. I'm not going to ask how you are, people probably already asked you that a million times. Just wanted to make sure you were fine psychically, I mean you are fine physically. Like you're hot, and now I'm awkwardly ranting, which you do too by the way. I'm going to hang the phone up now, bye Vera Lee!"

    "Bye Sebby." I can hear him sigh into a chuckle, before hanging up.

    Getting off the bed and going down to the living room, I see only the Freakish Four are here with Tony.

    "Where's everyone else?"

    "Thor and Bruce went to do something with his hammer, Wanda and Vision are making cookies." Tony informs from his spot behind his phone.

    "Hey, Mini Barnes! Were you ever going to tell us about these people dudes at your little date thing?" Sam jokes, kind of seriously.

    "One, I just got home. And two, it wasn't a date. I was meeting one of his friends. We were all just talking."

    "Mhmm, sure. Then why is your face getting red?" Nat mentions.

    "No it's not," I cover my face with my hands. My face blushes more, and I hide under my shirt.

"No! No boys til you're 50!" Bucky protests. I give him a look.

"Papa, I'm almost seventy years old! Sure I look fifteen, and probably will for the rest of my life, but I'm still 68."

"Which I think is ludicrous, so I'm think of making an anti to your anti-aging thingy. How's that sound?"

"Uncle Tones, are you serious?!"

"Most adults would beg to stay young, you're doing the opposite." Steve states like the elder he his.

    "When you look like a fifteen year old, and you're really an old soul. You guys know how I feel," I nod my head to Buck and Stevie.

    "We look good for being 95! Technically we're 27 and 28," Steve informs.

"Who's older?" Sammy questions.

"Buck. He's a couple months older, not a full year."

"Yeah, punk. And you still bossing me around like you're older." Papa grabs Steve into a head lock, ruffling his hair. They laugh in joy, and I smile at them.

"Careful there guys, some might think you're not just horsing around." Tony inputs suggestively.

Cluelessly Stevie asks, "what do you mean by that Tones?" He gets realeased from my father's hold. Said father walking back over to me.

"That we look gay when we do that. Keep up dip-" my dad looks over at me, and corrects his lovely choice of words. "Doodie head."

"Doodie head? Really, that's what you come up with?" Sammy nags my father.

The small talk and teasing continues until Wanda and Vision walk in with a tray of cookies.

"Oh, food!" Tony and Sam jump to get first bite.

"Have you no manners, gentlemen?" Vision inquiries.

"For the fact that you just put no manners and gentlemen, I would say that is unintelligent. But I made you, and nothing I make is unintelligent. Except for Dum-E, he's still a work in progress."

"Very creative name, real sweet." I comment on the name Dum-E.

"Oh don't give me that, he loves it!" Tones exclaims about his beloved machine.

I ignore the rest of the conversation, as I take a chocolate chip cookie from the tray.

Making my way back to my father, I have a flashback.

I look up at my father in the cell we stay in at HYDRA. I look around six years old, having dirt covering my face from what I'm guessing is a mission we just came back on, or training.

I shudder at the thought of the form of training HYDRA made me do.

Papa sits to my right, me cradling his metal arm in my lap. We're staying silent, either from him not feeling himself, or him wanting to succumb to the silence. It's nice, comfortable.

"I remember your mother. I don't know how that's possible. They are probably going to wipe me of the memories some time soon, so I'm going to talk to you about her. You deserve to know about her." He announces out of the blue. He never talks for too long, not when he was in here.

"She had long, dark hair. She was so beautiful, so breathtakingly beautiful. When I first met her, she was so different than the other girls at the- I don't remember what it's called. But anyway, all the others wanted my attention, my approval. She didn't, and I adored that,"

"I quickly fell in love with her. A mistake of where we were, but it was meant to be. Your mother was the light of my life, now you are. She was my sunshine."

He contemplates if he should tell me about when they took her away from him. He goes against it, not wanting to relive that memory of their love.

"Your mother was kind, smart, and stubborn. God, she was so stubborn, much like you."

My six year old squeaky voice rings out, "what was her name?"

"Athena. Athena Grey Zola. She didn't like her last name, so she made her last name her middle one."

I shake off the flashback, coming back to reality. My father looks at me weird. I never noticed how much of an old soul shines through his eyes.

I walk up to him, forgetting about the cookie in my hand, and give him a huge hug.

He is shocked, but returns the gesture nonetheless.

"Athena," I mutter. He pulls back to look at me in shock.

"You remember?"

I nod happily, and he leans back into our hug.

Author's Note: So I wanted to get that out of the way. It was her father! I know, not that exciting. But, it's good to have him instead of other people who aren't that nice. I know what I want when writing this book, bare with me.
    - J.S.

11.17.2020
1951 words