Part 21: morning

Emery woke to sunlight clawing its way through the curtains-bright, arrogant, and utterly inconsiderate of her pounding head. She winced, pulling the silk pillow closer to block it out, but it was too late. Her brain was already dragging her back into the memory of the night before.And oh, what a night.

She lay there in her sheets for a moment, trying to remember the order of events. She and the girls had barely made it ten feet out of the elevator before the men had frozen like time stopped around them. The velvet dress clung to her body in ways Emery didn't fully appreciate until she saw Bucky's reaction-the tight jaw, the blink-and-you-miss-it clench of his fists. Loki had stared like she was a prophecy fulfilled in heels. Even Thor had choked on his drink.

But it wasn't just their faces that stuck with her.

It was the tension in the room.

The tension she caused.

And she liked it. Just a little.

Not because she needed the attention-but because for once, she was in control of it.

Now, curled in bed in nothing but an oversized Stark Industries sweatshirt and silk shorts, her limbs were sore from dancing, her feet angry in protest, and her mouth dry from too many shots-Nat's fault, obviously.

But what stayed with her wasn't the club.

It was what happened after.

Two knocks.

Two visits.

One from Loki, smooth and deliberate, all charm and storm in that perfectly crisp black shirt. He didn't even try to hide how much he wanted her-how fascinated he was by her.

And one from Bucky. Uninvited. Unapologetic.

His anger had softened the moment their eyes met, but it simmered beneath the surface like heat beneath ice. There had been no declarations, no dramatic statements. Just presence. Silent, magnetic, and demanding in a way that unraveled her thoughts.

She hadn't let either of them stay. Not out of fear. But because she knew exactly where that road led-and she wasn't ready. Not yet.

The coffee machine hissed to life in the kitchen as she padded over barefoot, pulling her sweatshirt down over her thighs. Her hair was a mess of half-curls and club-sweat and sleep, and her cheeks still carried the faint stain of smudged makeup. Still, she didn't care. It was her first morning off in weeks. She'd earned the right to look like a walking disaster.

Just as she curled up in the kitchen nook, sipping the rich, bitter brew, the elevator chimed.

Emery froze.

Please be Natasha, she thought. Not Loki. Definitely not Bucky.

The doors opened.

"Rise and regret, baby girl."

Emery exhaled sharply, relieved as Natasha stepped out, sunglasses on, black hoodie wrapped around her like armor, a coffee cup in each hand.

"You're a goddess," Emery murmured, taking the second cup like it was life-saving medicine.

"You're a menace," Nat replied, grinning as she dropped onto the bench beside her. "You know that, right?"

Emery arched an eyebrow. "Me?"

"You. With that dress. That hair. That walk. If Tony had a heart monitor, he'd have flatlined. Thor nearly proposed. And Bucky? Please. I thought he was going to pull a knife on the bartender who looked at you too long."

Emery tried to hide the smirk tugging at her lips. "I didn't ask for the attention."

"No. You didn't have to." Natasha nudged her playfully. "But let's talk about those visitors."

"I plead the fifth."

"Liar." Natasha sipped her drink, watching her over the rim. "Loki showed up first?"

Emery nodded slowly.

"He flirted?"

"Of course."

"And Bucky?"

Emery looked down at her mug. "He didn't say much. He just... looked at me like I was some decision he already regretted not making."

Nat blinked, then whistled low. "Well damn."

Silence settled for a moment, broken only by the occasional hum of the tower and the clink of mugs.

"He's complicated," Emery said finally. "They both are. And I've got school, powers no one really understands, Tony's overprotective hover-dad energy, and now two grown men acting like the universe is daring them to stake a claim."

"You forgot the third," Nat said.

Emery blinked. "What?"

"Thor. He may be sweet about it, but that golden retriever smile's packing intentions, babe."

"Oh my God."

Nat cackled and clinked her mug against Emery's. "Welcome to the Avengers Tower Love Quadrangle. Population: You."

Just then, the elevator chimed again.

Wanda appeared in a baggy tee, her hair in a knot, holding a bag of muffins. "Did someone say 'quadrangle'?"

Nat rolled her eyes and scooted over. "Get in here. We're debriefing."

Emery leaned back with a groan, looking out the window at the glittering skyline, the aftershocks of the night still settling into her bones.

This tower was chaos.

But for the first time in years-maybe ever-she didn't feel alone in it.

She felt powerful.

And maybe... just maybe... she was ready for whatever came next.

Wanda dropped the bakery bag onto the counter with a thud and a triumphant grin."I got the good muffins."

"Oh, thank God," Emery said, reaching for one like it was oxygen. "If I had to survive another one of Tony's protein muffins, I was going to light something on fire."

Natasha snorted. "That's the spirit."

Wanda, barefoot and warm-eyed, slid onto the bench across from them and peeled open the bag. "So... where were we? Loki? Bucky? Thor?"

"Don't you dare," Emery groaned around a bite of banana chocolate chip.

"She had two visitors last night," Nat added, tone sing-song sweet. "Guess who."

Wanda gasped theatrically. "No."

"First Loki," Nat continued, "with enough cologne to stun a deity."

Wanda's eyes widened. "He came to your room?"

"He didn't come come-"

Nat nearly spit out her coffee. "Emery!"

Emery flushed. "You know what I mean!"

Wanda laughed, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "And Bucky?"

"Didn't even knock," Emery muttered. "Just showed up like a whole-ass storm cloud. All broody silence and eyes like loaded weapons."

Wanda and Nat exchanged a look.

"You like it," Wanda said softly. "That feeling. The attention."

Emery opened her mouth-then paused. The words hovered just behind her tongue. It would be easy to deflect again, to bury it in sarcasm or a well-timed insult, but she was tired. Tired of dodging herself.

So instead, she stared into her coffee and said, "I think... I'm scared of how much I do like it."

Wanda's expression softened. Nat tilted her head slightly, silently urging her on.

"I've always had this... weight. These powers. This responsibility," Emery said, voice quieter now. "People either want to use me, or they want to fix me. And I-I don't know what it means when someone just wants me."

"And now two people do," Wanda whispered.

"Three," Nat added under her breath.

Emery raised an eyebrow. "Can we not?"

But before she could say anything else, the elevator dinged-and the chaos began.

"Who finished the last of the damn cereal?!" Sam's voice rang out before he was even in the room.

"Not me," Clint called out, trailing in behind him with his usual bedhead and a bag of frozen peas strapped to his shoulder.

"Oh great," Tony groaned as he entered next, in pajama pants, slippers, and a robe that screamed "rich chaos man." "It's the Tower of Misfit Toys again."

"Language," Steve said, emerging in a fitted navy shirt that didn't not make him look like an action figure.

Bucky followed in just behind him. Dark henley. No expression. But his eyes locked with Emery's the second he stepped into the kitchen.

And held.

The tension snapped into place like a drawn bow.

"Morning," he said, voice low, unreadable.

Emery didn't respond-couldn't. She blinked, shoved the muffin back into her mouth like it would protect her, and pointedly stared out the window.

Wanda, always observant, nearly giggled.

"Alright, let's get this circus rolling," Tony declared, clapping his hands. "We've got a long day of pretending we're not all emotionally stunted adult-children with god complexes."

"Speak for yourself," Loki said, gliding in last, utterly dressed and far too smug. He shot Emery a glance, golden eyes raking her with slow amusement, and smirked. "I'm very well-adjusted."

"You don't even pay taxes," Clint snapped.

"And yet, I look better than all of you before breakfast."

Emery leaned her head into her hand, eyes half-lidded, amused and exhausted.

"Gods, agents, billionaires, assassins..." she murmured. "And still none of you know how to shut up before 9 a.m."

"I taught her that," Natasha said proudly.

Thor burst in from the hallway, holding Mjolnir and a smoothie. "Did someone say breakfast?!"

"Now that's an entrance," Sam said. "Take notes, Barnes."

Bucky glared at him without amusement and tossed a muffin at his head. Sam caught it one-handed and winked.

As the team descended into teasing and yelling and arguing over who got the last cinnamon bun, Emery leaned back in her seat, watching the swirling chaos unfold around her.

It was messy.

It was loud.

It was completely unhinged.

And it was... hers.

Her place. Her people.

She caught Tony's eye across the room. He smiled at her gently, knowingly-fatherly-and mouthed, You good?

Emery nodded once.

And then glanced to her left-where Bucky was watching her from the other end of the table.

Still quiet. Still stormy.

But when their eyes met this time...

He smiled.

Just a little.

Just for her.