The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Forty

There's something beautiful about clouds.

They are the sky's way of communicating it's feelings, painting them with soft pinks and oranges for peaceful days when all is well and shading them in bland black and white for the overcast hours. But when the sky is angry, the clouds become its battle ships, lording over the heavens with a smothering grey grasp and shooting lightning from their foreboding bows.

They look like solid sentinels in the sky yet they can form and dissipate as if by magic, morphing from fluffy white clusters to thin wisps of cotton fibres at will. And it's this shapeshifting that allows them to show you what you want to see - sometimes a fish, sometimes a dog, and sometimes they form the smile of a person you haven't seen in years.

I'm sure I see Lucy's face for a moment as the quinjet glides easily past.

Shaking myself, I turn away from the small window and instead direct my attention into the mass of super people inhabiting the plane.

The interior is lined with three sets of seats, a row spanning each wall of the jet and another group in the middle, the chairs arranged back to back.

Nat and Clint sit on the left hand side, engrossed in a rather vicious game of 'slaps' - Natasha is winning, though whether that's down to skill or Barton not wanting to lose a limb if she loses, I'm not sure. Dr. Banner sits by himself in the centre, headphones in and a visible anxiety knitting his eyebrows together. To the right, Steve is sat in the middle of Sam and Bucky, who are leaning forward in their seats to argue for the sixth time today. I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips as Cap closes his eyes, hitting his head back against the wall behind him.

My humour dissipates immediately however as a pair of dark eyes catch mine for a brief moment before darting away again.

Rhodey has been sending me these distrusting looks ever since we left the meeting room yesterday, as if he expects me to suddenly start slashing people's throats. Clint can be annoying, but he's not that annoying.

A frown settles across my features as I watch Colonel Rhodes and Tony have a hushed conversation in the pilots' chairs, both men looking mildly concerned about something. They talk mostly with their eyes and hands, something that comes easily to people who have been friends for a long time.

Their obvious apprehension only feeds my own, a foreboding feeling weighing heavily in my stomach.

I don't care how much faith Tony has in Dr. Banner's Hulk, I still feel too vulnerable walking into this blind. And then there's the fact that we're trying to capture another man I'd rather not ever see again.

The haunted house of my head is becoming overly crowded.

"Jump zone in ten minutes." Stark calls from the front of the jet, flicking switches on the dashboard to hand control over to JARVIS. He gets up and walks back to the middle of the plane, regarding us with cool brown eyes. "Is everyone clear on the plan?"

"Land, take control of the safe house, grab Ilenova and leave." Clint nods, seemingly pleased with his over simplification.

Both Stark and Steve shoot the super spy a look.

"We drop in two miles from the target. Everyone will spread out as we move forwards, keeping an eye out for anything unusual as Nyx has warned us." Cap continues, nodding to me. "Once we reach the base, Tony and I will go in first, followed by Clint and Nat. Sam and Colonel Rhodes, you will stay outside with Bucky and Nyx to take care of anyone who runs out and to stop any reinforcements ambushing us in the building. Dr. Banner will stay with the quinjet and monitor comms unless we need him. The element of surprise is key here."