Part 54: Training

Emery's apartment was still, quiet except for the hum of the city outside. She sat curled on the couch, one hand loosely holding her mug of tea when the knock came."Emery? It's me," Tony's voice called, softer than she expected.

She hesitated, then sighed. "It's open."

Tony stepped inside, a little slower than usual. His usual bravado seemed muted, like he'd rehearsed this moment more than once. He gave her a once-over, then settled into the armchair across from her.

"You didn't come back last night," he said quietly. "I was worried."

"I needed space," Emery replied. Her voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. "After what you and Fury said yesterday... you made me feel like a weapon. Like something to be measured, not someone you trust."

Tony's expression softened. "That's not what I meant. Look-I know I screwed up. Big time. You're not a freak, and you're not dangerous-not to us. What you did out there?

You saved us. You saved me." He exhaled and leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. "But I also saw you nearly collapse after pushing too hard. That's why I was digging. Not to cage you, not to tear you apart and study you-because I don't ever want to see you burn yourself out like that again."

Her throat tightened. "You made me feel like I was on the edge of being locked away. Like the minute I showed my powers were different, I was... a liability."

Tony shook his head fiercely. "No. You're family, Emery. We don't lock family up. I just need to understand how far your powers go-so the next time the world goes to hell, we're prepared. So you're prepared."

She studied him for a long moment, weighing his words, his tired eyes, the truth pressing through his usual sarcasm. Finally, she set the mug down and leaned forward.

"I'll come back," she said. "I'll train, I'll let you see what I can do. But I won't be treated like a lab rat. No poking, no prodding, no whispers about how dangerous I am. I'm not an experiment, Tony. I'm not a freak. The second you or Fury treat me like one again, I walk. Clear?"

Tony's jaw tightened, but then he nodded slowly, his tone low and sincere. "Crystal clear. No cages, no freak labels. Just training. Just us making sure you're safe doing what you already do better than anyone else."

For the first time since yesterday, Emery's shoulders eased. She stood, pulling her coat off the arm of the couch. "Then let's go."

Tony blinked, surprised. "Right now?"

"Yes, Stark," she said, finally allowing a small, wry smile. "Before I change my mind."

He chuckled, relief breaking across his face. "Alright, deal. But fair warning-when you blow my mind with whatever it is you can really do, I'm still allowed to brag about you at the next team dinner."

Emery rolled her eyes, brushing past him toward the door. "Of course you are. You wouldn't be Tony Stark otherwise."And together, they left the apartment-Emery not as someone being dragged back, but as someone who had chosen to return, on her terms.

When the quinjet touched down at the compound, the hangar doors hissed open and the hum of machinery filled the air. Emery stepped down first, her coat still hanging loose around her shoulders. Tony trailed a step behind, his expression unreadable, though the dark circles under his eyes betrayed that he hadn't slept in more than a day.

The rest of the team was waiting. Natasha's arms were folded, sharp eyes flicking over Emery as if to check she hadn't fallen apart overnight. Wanda's face softened with relief. Steve straightened, clearly trying to read the situation. Bucky's gaze lingered longest, his jaw tight but his eyes searching.

"Glad you're back," Natasha said evenly, though the undercurrent of warmth was there.

Emery gave her a small nod before Tony clapped his hands together. "Alright, kiddies, roll call's over. Emery and I had a chat, and we're going to take this little science experiment for a spin."

Emery's brows flicked, but she didn't correct him-not in front of the others. Instead, she followed as Tony led them down into the lower levels of the compound, where the air smelled of fresh metal and ozone.

The simulator room was massive, almost like a training hangar but laced with Stark tech. Holographic panels glowed faint blue, while circular plates embedded in the floor hummed with hidden energy.

"New toy," Tony announced with a flourish. "Built it last night. Don't say I never do anything for you. It's designed to adapt to biological signatures-yours especially. It'll throw everything from rogue agents to structural collapses to energy blasts at you, and I'll be monitoring output the whole time."

Emery crossed her arms. "So you want me to put on a light show?"

"Not just a light show," Tony corrected, moving toward the control deck. "We need to see the range, the scale, the limits. You nearly bled yourself dry in the field yesterday. I don't want that happening again."

Bucky spoke up, his voice low. "And if it pushes her too far?"

"Then we shut it down," Tony said quickly, glancing at Emery. "Her rules. Her line in the sand. She says stop, we stop."

Emery's gaze flicked to Bucky for a moment, something unspoken passing between them before she stepped onto the center platform. The floor lit beneath her feet, golden strings of energy already whispering to life around her fingertips as if responding to the anticipation in her veins."Alright," she said, steady. "Let's see what this thing can do."

The simulation roared to life.Walls shimmered into city streets, the air thick with smoke and the echo of alarms. Rogue agents spilled out of alleys, firing. Emery's hands glowed as she moved with calm precision-golden threads snapping outward, yanking weapons away, disarming with sharp, fluid gestures. A blast tore through a nearby building, and she spun, weaving her power into lattices of shimmering strands that held the collapsing rubble midair long enough for holographic civilians to escape.

Tony's eyes widened at the readings. "She's controlling multiple biological and structural systems at once. Neural disruption, muscle fatigue, cellular repair-all layered. That shouldn't even be possible."

On the floor, Emery's face was calm but her breathing quickened as the simulation escalated. More enemies, more chaos. She pressed her palms together, golden energy spiraling outward in a wave that rippled through the environment-agents dropping unconscious instantly, threads of her magic binding them in place like woven netting. At the same time, a holographic "Avenger" staggered nearby, bleeding heavily. Without hesitation, Emery knelt, hands hovering over the wound. Light flared-her golden power unraveling into finer threads that stitched the damage, knitted tissue, restored breath.The glow intensified, wrapping her in an almost ethereal aura. The floor hummed louder beneath her feet as though the simulator itself strained to keep up.

Steve muttered under his breath, "Incredible..."Wanda's fingers curled slightly, her own scarlet magic reacting instinctively to the resonance of Emery's power. "She's... different," she whispered. "It's not just strength. She's weaving life itself."

Finally, the simulation ended. The streets dissolved into sterile steel walls again. Emery staggered, sweat clinging to her temples, but she stayed standing.

Tony typed furiously at the console, his face pale as the data scrolled. "You just stabilized six systems at once. Do you know how impossible that is? Most people can't keep their heart rate steady under stress, and you're over here rewriting biology like it's knitting."

Emery exhaled slowly, shaking out her hands. The golden glow receded reluctantly, like embers fading. "I told you. I'm not a freak, Stark. This is just who I am."Bucky stepped forward before Tony could respond, steadying her elbow with a careful touch. "And you almost pushed too hard again," he murmured.

She shot him a tired but stubborn glance. "I'm fine."But the way her knees wobbled said otherwise.

The simulator's hum quieted, the last shimmer of holographic rubble dissolving into steel walls. Emery lowered her hands, rolling her shoulders as though she'd just finished a sparring match instead of bending the laws of biology to her will. Her breathing was steady, sharp but not ragged. Golden energy still flickered faintly at her fingertips, reluctant to leave her, but she willed it back down.

"I'm good," she said firmly, her voice even.The others weren't so calm.

Tony was still staring at the readings, running a hand through his hair, muttering numbers under his breath. Steve's posture was stiff, torn between awe and worry. Wanda's eyes lingered on her, curious and almost reverent, as though she was watching someone rewrite rules she thought unchangeable.

And Bucky-he was closest, standing just off the edge of the platform, his hand hovering near her elbow like he was ready to catch her if she so much as swayed."You don't have to pretend," he said quietly, meeting her eyes. "That took a lot out of you."

She smirked faintly, brushing past him, her steps steady. "If I was pretending, Barnes, you'd know. I'm still standing, aren't I?"

That earned the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes didn't stop tracking her.

Nat leaned back against the glass wall, one brow arched. "So... not only can she patch us up when we're bleeding out, she can disarm half a city block without breaking a sweat. Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Emery tossed her a glance, lips quirking. "As long as you stay out of the line of fire, you're safe."

"Reassuring," Sam muttered, though there was an undercurrent of admiration in his tone.

Tony finally tore himself away from the data, straightening. "Alright. I'm calling it-this proves my point. We needed to see the extent, and Emery, you delivered. Controlled, efficient, no... freakish side-effects. Which-" his voice softened a notch, rare sincerity peeking through, "-is exactly what I should've trusted in the first place."

Emery met his gaze. There was no smugness in her expression, just quiet steadiness. "I'm not dangerous, Tony. I'm not a weapon to measure in units or graphs. This is me. Nothing more, nothing less."

For once, Tony didn't argue. He just gave her a short nod."Alright," Steve said, breaking the tension. His voice carried the weight of command, but also respect. "Then we move forward knowing exactly what Emery brings to the team. And knowing she can handle herself."

"Damn right she can," Sam added, with a grin.

The tight coil in the room loosened. Emery exhaled, stepping down from the platform, brushing her hand along the railing. As she passed Bucky, his arm brushed hers briefly-intentional, steady. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes said enough: pride, relief, and something deeper that he wasn't ready to voice.

Wanda was the first to break the silence with a small smile. "Breakfast round two? After all that, I think she deserves pancakes."

Nat smirked. "And coffee. Lots of coffee."

"Coffee first, science later," Emery agreed dryly, shooting a look at Tony, who only lifted his hands in mock surrender.Together, the team began to file out of the simulator, the adrenaline of the test giving way to the simple comfort of heading back upstairs together. Emery lingered a step behind, catching her reflection in the polished glass wall-her shoulders square, her eyes clear, the faint afterglow of her golden threads still shimmering in her veins.She wasn't broken.

She wasn't dangerous.

She was in control.

And she was finally beginning to believe it.

The compound's kitchen was alive with chatter when Emery walked in. The smell of bacon and fresh coffee drifted through the air, Wanda and Nat already seated at the island while Sam flipped pancakes with the flourish of someone trying to prove a point.

"You're late," Sam said without turning, tossing a pancake high into the air and catching it with a dramatic flick of his wrist.

"I was busy keeping you all alive, remember?" Emery shot back, slipping into a stool. She reached for the coffee pot, pouring herself a mug before anyone could suggest otherwise. "You're welcome, by the way."Nat smirked over her glass of juice. "Don't let him forget it."

"Oh, don't worry. I plan on bringing it up at every opportunity." Emery sipped her coffee, savoring it.Sam groaned. "One near-death save and suddenly I owe you pancakes forever."

"You owe me more than pancakes, Wilson," she teased, lifting her fork like a pointer. "You owe me your life."Steve, seated across the island, shook his head with a chuckle. "I think she's earned the right to gloat a little, Sam."

Bucky, sliding into the seat beside Emery, muttered low enough only she could hear, "You've earned more than pancakes."

Her lips twitched, but she didn't answer, choosing instead to steal a strip of bacon off his plate with deliberate slowness. His glare was half-hearted at best.The laughter and easy banter settled around them like a blanket, the kind of warmth Emery didn't take for granted anymore. For a few minutes, it was just a team at breakfast-no missions, no simulations, no golden threads humming beneath her skin.

That peace lasted exactly until the kitchen doors hissed open.

Nick Fury strode in, his presence immediately shifting the air. Black trench coat, single eye sharp as ever, he scanned the room until it landed on Emery.

"Well," he said flatly, "I hear congratulations are in order. Stark tells me you lit up the simulator like the Fourth of July."

Tony, who had been lounging in the corner with a tablet, perked up. "Not exaggerating. She was-" he paused, searching for the word, "-brilliant. Controlled. Unstoppable."

Fury's gaze didn't waver. "And dangerous, if unchecked. That's why I'm here."

The room fell quiet, utensils clinking faintly against plates before stopping altogether. Emery set down her coffee mug, meeting Fury's stare head-on.

"I knew this was coming," she said calmly. "So go on. What do the results say?"

Fury crossed his arms. "That you're more powerful than we anticipated. Maybe more than you anticipated. Healing, disarming, controlling biology itself? That's not something I can ignore. You're an asset-but assets can also be risks."

Emery's jaw tightened, her voice steady but firm. "I'm not a risk, Fury. I'm a person. A member of this team. Yesterday I saved Tony's life, saved civilians, patched Sam up before he bled out. If that makes me dangerous, then so be it-but I'm dangerous to the people who come after us, not to the ones sitting at this table."

Her words hung heavy in the silence. Wanda leaned forward, eyes narrowing slightly at Fury. "She's right. Without her yesterday, more of us would've been lost."Steve's voice was low, deliberate. "We trust her. That should mean something."

Fury's eye flicked to him, then back to Emery. "Trust doesn't erase responsibility. And if your powers keep growing, Emery, you're going to have to prove-again and again-that you're in control. Not just to me, not just to this team, but to the people watching us."

Bucky shifted beside her, bristling, his voice rough. "She already proved it. How much more do you want from her?"Emery reached under the table, brushing her fingers against his briefly before speaking. "It's alright, Buck." She looked back at Fury, her shoulders squared. "You'll get your proof. But on my terms. I'm not a lab rat, and I won't be treated like one. If you want to know what I can do, you'll see it out there-in the field, protecting people. That's all that matters."

Fury studied her for a long, tense beat. Then, with the barest nod, he said, "We'll see."

He turned on his heel and left the room, leaving the team in charged silence.

Nat let out a low whistle. "Well. That went well."Tony winced. "Could've been worse. He could've had a PowerPoint."

Emery huffed out a breath and reached for her fork again. "I'm finishing my breakfast. Fury doesn't get to ruin pancakes."

That earned her a few chuckles, but Bucky stayed quiet, his hand resting on the table, closer to hers than before.Lunch progressed with the usual laughter and teasing as always until everyone had finished and moved onto other tasks of the day.

Her room was dim, lit only by the faint city glow spilling through the window. Emery sat cross-legged on the bed, trying and failing to lose herself in a book. The words blurred; her mind kept replaying the mission, the strain of her powers, the weight of Tony's tests. She barely noticed the knock until the door cracked open."Em?"

Bucky's voice. Quiet, careful.

She looked up, and there he was - leaning in the doorway, hair mussed from his shower, shirt clinging in all the right ways. She swallowed before answering. "Come in."He shut the door behind him and crossed to sit at the edge of her bed. The mattress dipped, the air shifted. He wasn't close enough to touch, but close enough that her body reacted anyway - a heat coiling low in her stomach."You've been... distant," he said, studying her face. "Since the mission."

"Didn't want to worry anyone." She hugged her knees to her chest.

"You worried me." His voice was rougher now, like gravel under his breath.

The honesty in his tone unraveled her defenses. "You always notice, don't you?" she murmured."Always." His gaze locked onto hers, unflinching, and something heavy and electric passed between them.Her hand moved before she could stop it, brushing lightly against his wrist, skin against metal. The touch made his breath hitch.

"Bucky..."

That was all it took. His restraint snapped. He leaned in, capturing her mouth with his. The kiss was nothing tentative this time - it was deep, consuming, a clash of hunger and need that stole the air from her lungs. She gasped softly, clutching at his shirt, and he took the chance to deepen it, his tongue brushing hers in a way that sent sparks down her spine.

Her book slid forgotten to the floor as she shifted, climbing onto her knees to close the gap between them. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she melted into the solid heat of his body.She broke the kiss just long enough to breathe, her lips brushing his jaw. "We shouldn't-"

"Then tell me to stop." His metal hand skimmed up her spine, cool through the fabric of her shirt, a shocking contrast to the fever of his mouth as he kissed the hollow of her throat.

Her head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, a low sound escaping her that betrayed just how much she didn't want him to stop. "Bucky..."

His flesh hand cradled her cheek, tilting her face back to his so he could kiss her again, slower now, but deeper - the kind of kiss that stole thought and left only feeling. She threaded her fingers into his hair, tugging gently, and he groaned against her mouth, the sound vibrating through her.

When she finally pulled back, lips swollen, breath unsteady, she pressed her forehead to his. "This... this has been building for too long."

His thumb brushed her lower lip, eyes dark and heavy with want. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."She gave a breathless laugh, shaky but real. "Then don't stop now."

He kissed her again, slower this time, but with the kind of intensity that promised this was only the beginning - that everything they'd been holding back was finally breaking free.

Bucky shifted, guiding her gently back against the pillows without breaking the kiss. Emery's heart thundered as his weight leaned over her, solid and steady, caging her in without feeling suffocating. His lips traced from her mouth to her jaw, then lower, the scrape of his stubble making her shiver.

Her hands roamed up his chest, over the broad planes of muscle beneath his shirt, before sliding around his neck. She tugged him closer, refusing to let an inch of space exist between them.

"God, Emery..." His voice was ragged, barely more than a groan against her skin. He buried his face in the curve of her throat, inhaling her scent like it was the only thing grounding him. His metal hand pressed flat against her hip, anchoring her while his flesh hand framed her cheek, thumb stroking softly as though he couldn't decide between gentle or desperate.

Her body arched into his instinctively, breath catching as his lips grazed the tender spot just below her ear. She clutched at his shirt, fabric bunching between her fingers. "This is dangerous," she whispered, though the words held no conviction.

"I know," he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. His blue eyes burned with something she'd never seen in him so openly before - raw want, tangled with fear of losing control. "Tell me to stop, doll. Please... because I don't think I can if you don't."

Her breath stuttered, chest rising and falling against his. She could feel the tension in him, the coil wound so tight it might snap. She let her hand slip to his jaw, guiding him back down for another kiss. Slow. Lingering. Her answer was clear in the way she held him there, refusing to let go.The kiss deepened until neither of them could think, only feel. His hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt, not daring to go further than the bare skin of her waist - warm and tentative, but enough to make her tremble. She dragged her nails lightly over his back in response, pulling a low, guttural sound from his throat.

The world outside her room might as well not have existed. It was just him, just her, heat and breath and the terrifying, intoxicating closeness of finally giving in.

Eventually, she broke the kiss, lips swollen and breaths uneven. "Bucky..." Her voice was soft, fragile around the edges. "If we don't stop now, we might not at all."He rested his forehead to hers, eyes closed, breathing hard. "I know. And I don't want to do this halfway with you." His metal hand squeezed gently at her side, grounding himself. "When this happens... I want it to be right. Not rushed. Not stolen."

Her chest ached at the restraint in his words, at the sincerity trembling beneath them. She brushed her lips over his one last time, a whisper of a kiss, before nodding. "Okay.

He stayed there a moment longer, memorizing her face in the soft light, before carefully shifting back to sit beside her. She curled into his side, head against his shoulder, and his arm wrapped protectively around her as though the world couldn't touch her here.

Neither spoke again. They didn't need to. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air: they were standing on the edge of something that had been building for far too long, and when the fall finally came, there would be no turning back.

The heat of their almost-too-much kiss eventually gave way to something softer. Emery shifted back against her pillows, tugging Bucky down beside her, the glow from her laptop screen flickering across both their faces."Pick something," she murmured, voice still a little breathless as she shoved the laptop toward him. "But no war movies, Sergeant. I think we've both had enough of those."

Bucky smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching as he scrolled. "Alright, doll. No explosions. No Captain America propaganda reels either."

That earned him a playful shove in the side, which only made his grin widen. Finally, he landed on an old, grainy film-something black and white with quick wit and slower pacing. "This one's a classic," he said simply, pressing play before she could argue.

The movie filled the quiet space of her room, its dialogue weaving around them as they settled. Emery curled her knees up and leaned against him, the warmth of his body seeping through her thin shirt. Bucky draped an arm along the back of her pillows, close enough that his fingers brushed her shoulder now and again, every touch deliberate yet restrained.

For a while, they talked in hushed whispers, more focused on each other than the film. He told her about the old Brooklyn streets he used to know, how they'd change in the summer with kids running barefoot through fire hydrant spray. She laughed about growing up too fast, patching scraped knees and broken bones before she'd ever had time to just be reckless herself.

Their words slowed as the night wore on. Emery's head slipped from his shoulder to his chest, her body curling instinctively into his side. She was still listening, humming now and again in response, but her eyelids grew heavier with each passing minute.

Bucky noticed. His voice softened, dropping to a murmur as his hand came up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Go on, doll. Get some rest. I'll keep watch.""Mhm," she hummed sleepily, her face pressed into the fabric of his shirt. "You always do."

Her breathing evened out, slow and steady, warmth radiating from her curled-up form. Bucky sat there a moment longer, just watching her-the way her lips parted in sleep, the relaxed set of her brow, the trust she offered so freely when she didn't even realize it.

Carefully, he reached for the laptop, closing it with a quiet click before setting it aside on the nightstand. Then, with a gentleness that belied the strength in him, he eased her down against the pillows, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders.

"Goodnight, doll," he whispered, pressing a feather-light kiss to her temple.

He lingered one second more, fingers brushing her hand where it rested above the blanket, before standing. The urge to stay-just to lie down and hold her, consequences be damned-pulled at him like gravity. But instead, he forced himself toward the door, slipping quietly back to his own room.

Behind him, Emery shifted in her sleep, curling deeper into the warmth he'd left behind.

Bucky eased Emery's door shut with the gentlest click. He lingered there a moment, shoulders sagging as if he'd just set down the weight of the world. The warmth of her still clung to him-the taste of her lips, the feel of her pressed against him when they kissed. It had been slow, careful, but it lit something inside him he hadn't felt in years."Buck."

The voice came quiet but steady. Bucky's head snapped up to see Steve leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed, watching him with that sharp, all-seeing gaze."Jesus, Steve," Bucky muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. "You tryin' to give me a heart attack?"

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Could ask you the same. Slipping out of someone's room at one in the morning..." His tone wasn't judgmental-if anything, it was laced with quiet curiosity.

Bucky blew out a long sigh, leaning back against the wall, metal fingers flexing at his side. "It's not what you think." He paused, then huffed. "Well... maybe it is."

Steve tilted his head, saying nothing, just waiting.Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, eyes briefly darting to Emery's closed door before he forced himself to meet Steve's gaze. "We kissed. Tonight. And I don't regret it." His voice was rough, like the admission scraped its way out of him. "She means... hell, she means a lot to me, Steve. More than I can explain. I've been tryin' to keep my distance, keep things simple, but-" He shook his head, a humorless laugh slipping out. "That went right out the window."

For a moment, Steve just studied him, expression unreadable. Then he pushed off the wall and stepped closer, his voice quieter, softer. "Do you care about her, Buck? Really care?"

Bucky's answer was immediate, steady. "Yeah. More than I should, maybe. But I'm not gonna hurt her. Not again."Steve's jaw shifted, something protective flashing in his eyes, but it softened into trust as he looked at his oldest friend. He placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder, grounding him the way only Steve could.

"Then don't," Steve said simply. "She's been through enough. If you're serious... if this is real... then make sure she knows it."

Bucky's throat worked as he swallowed hard, nodding once. "I will."

Steve's lips curved into the faintest smile, just enough to ease the tension. "Guess I can't give you too much hell. You always were the one who got tangled up in things faster than me."

"Still am," Bucky muttered with a snort, though his chest felt a little lighter.Steve gave his shoulder a final squeeze. "Get some sleep, soldier."

Bucky smirked faintly, the kind only Steve ever got out of him. "You too, punk."

As they parted ways down the hall, Bucky's mind still burned with the memory of Emery's lips-and Steve's words echoed in his chest like a promise: don't hurt her.