A Girl of the Future Read online

  Nikki cuffed him across the back of the head, "You're not helping, Leigh."

  Leigh smiled sheepishly, looking quite like a kid in a candy store. But Nikki ignored his expression as she reached for the CD player and turned it off. Kevin groaned in defeat, his

  voice back to its normal pitch.

  "And get off my table," she said, sounding more and more motherly with every word.

  "We were just having a little fun," Pietro told her as the two hopped down from the table.

  "The last time you used that exact phrase, I came home to find you'd stolen a vintage Pac Man console," she pointed out.

  "It was fun!" he protested.

  "Stealing is illegal," she said emphatically.

  Steve couldn't help but smile as Nikki and the three boys argued over the morality of stealing something no one wanted. A few of the other teens pitched in, throwing in their

  two cents for either side of the discussion. He remembered his own mother, who had practically raised both himself and Bucky whenever he was over, who had juggled so much before her death. As a girl with dark, frizzy hair began arguing with Pietro, Nikki shook her head with a smile and walked back into the kitchen.

  Allowing himself to laugh softly, Steve finished passing out the plates. He quickly picked up several of the names and the faces that went with them.

  The dark-haired girl who had derailed the discussion on Pietro's morals was his sister, Wanda. The two were twins, though Steve could barely see the resemblance. Kevin, of

  course, had been singing on the table. Kurt was the boy who looked like a creature from a Dr. Seuss book, but Steve refused to stare at the kid. The girl with coppery skin and

  an old vintage tee was Danielle. Hisako was sitting next to Danielle, discussing what sounded like high-level physics. Tandy, a rather peppy blonde, sat next to Tyrone, who

  sat pensively silent while nodding from time to time. The boy sitting across from Kurt and holding a discussion in fluent German was Douglas. Leigh, who Steve noticed had a

  distinctive accent, laughed with Kevin as they watched Wanda scold her brother. Ariana, who seemed to be the odd one out, watched as silently as Tyrone while Samantha

  began a tense debate on the worst school subject at their high school.

  A little overwhelmed, Steve backed into the kitchen once more. A man with sleep-mussed, dark brown hair had joined Nikki, Bali, and Hannah. The stranger laughed as Nikki

  smacked Bali's hand with a spatula when he tried to steal some bacon. The second Steve walked in, the man's attention snapped to him.

  "You must be our new guest," he said, extending a hand as he walked forward. "The name's Remy LeBeau."

  "Steve Callaghan," he answered, shaking the man's hand. "You must be the Remy Nikki warned me about."

  Remy looked affronted before turning to Nikki, "You warned him against me? How rude!"

  Nikki rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face, "If I didn't, you would have won all his money by lunch. And don't think I don't know you stole a biscuit."

  Remy sighed in defeat, pulling a biscuit out of his jacket pocket and placing it in Nikki's hand. He turned back to Steve, putting a hand to his mouth as if to keep her from

  reading his lips.

  "Don't ever think you can hide anything from Nikki," he whispered conspiratorially. "She's got eyes like a hawk and ears like a bat."

  "Actually, that's me," Bali put in cheerfully. "I just report to the boss-lady."

  Nikki smirked, almost in triumph, and handed the dark-haired man a glass plate of pancakes, "And right now, I need you to help get this out on the table before the rugrats

  become ravenous and storm the kitchen."

  Bali saluted as he took the plate, "Yes, ma'am. Right away, ma'am."

  He walked out stiffly, doing a rather ludicrous impression of a soldier's march. Remy followed soon after, plates of waffles, biscuits, toast, and eggs balancing precariously on

  his arms. Nikki was the last to exit with a myriad of jellies and syrup, leaving Hannah and Steve alone in the kitchen.

  "Quite the family you have here," he noted, watching as she mixed gravy in the pan before her.

  Hannah smiled happily, "Yes. We may be a bit out of sorts at times, but we're all pretty close despite the differences."

  "Nikki seems to run a tight ship."

  "Don't let her fool you," she said with a laugh. "Nikki plays tough, but she's a softie with the kids. And don't take it personally if she seems distant towards you. She doesn't

  trust easily – not after Erik."

  "Erik?"

  A look of horror crossed Hannah's face and she looked in panic towards Steve, "Don't tell her I said that. In fact, please don't mention Erik at all."

  "Is something wrong?"

  Hannah put down her whisk, "Everybody regrets something. Nikki regrets more than most. It really weighs her down sometimes – but it's her cross to bear. I have no right to

  give you all the skeletons in her closet. And if you go poking around for answers, she'll close up tighter than a clam. If you want to fit in at all in this place, don't bother her

  about what's in the past. She'll tell you if she wants."

  "Alright," Steve conceded. "I won't say anything."

  Hannah looked visibly relieved at his statement, "Thank you."

  There was a short silence between them as they both wracked their brains for something to say. Steve knew he had questions to answer when he reconvened with Natasha

  and Clint in four days, but didn't want to seem too forward in his line of questioning. Luckily, Hannah was just as eager to ease the tension.

  "So, did Nikki give you the whole list of warnings with Remy's?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "I bet that was intimidating," she laughed. "But don't worry. Remy's pretty good with the kids, though he may rile them up from time to time. And they're all easy to love."

  "It seems like it," Steve noted, glancing back out the doorframe to see Bali handing out pancakes and waffles as the teens clamored around him for their own breakfasts. "Has

  it always been like this?"

  "Not in the beginning," she admitted. "A lot of us were messed up when we found each other. Most of those guys had been bouncing from city to city just looking for someone

  to look out for them. It was hard to get used to being under one roof after something like that."

  Steve nodded in understanding, watching the group in the dining room. There was something so simplistic and nostalgic about the way they acted like a family. It reminded of

  him when he went to Bucky's for Thanksgiving one year. There had been so many different people crowded around one table, but they had all gotten along swimmingly. It gave

  him a brief sense of homesickness. There were some things that Steve liked about this new age, but not everything of the past could be buried.

  But the faint smell of burning dragged Steve out of his reverie. Both turned quickly to look for the source of the smell. Hannah gave a cry of disbelief as she scrambled for the

  gravy pan at the same time Steve reached for the handle. The two fumbled with the pan before it dropped to the floor with several resounding clangs. Steve ran for the paper

  towels as gravy splattered across the legs of his jeans.

  "I'm really sorry," he said hastily, kneeling to clean up the mess. "I wasn't thin-"

  Steve stopped short as he realized Hannah hadn't moved since the pan dropped. She stood ramrod straight and stiff as a board. When his gaze reached her face, he noticed

  the petrifying fear in her expression. But it was her eyes that scared Steve the most. They were hollow and distant, as if she couldn't see what was around her.

  "Hannah?" he asked, tentatively reaching for her. "Are you alright?"

  The moment he touched her, Hannah flew into a frenzy. She pulled away frantically, knocking into the cabinets behind her. A terrified whimper escaped her as she cowered

  away from Steve. An
d though she looked at him with those doe brown eyes, it was as if she wasn't seeing her.

  "Hannah?"

  Every time he tried to reach for her, she pulled further away from him. Just when he made to stand up and get help, she lashed out like an animal backed into a corner. Her

  nails scratched his skin as she screamed incoherently at him. It took Steve a few seconds to realize she was saying something – three words, over and over like a mantra.

  "Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, don't hurt me."

  Someone pulled Steve away from her forcefully, rushing towards Hannah without thought. Nikki pushed past her sister's attacks, causing the younger woman to scream all the

  louder, and try to speak to her.

  "Hannah, look at me. Look at me," she demanded. "No one's going to hurt you. You're here with me. Hannah!"

  Hannah shook her head frantically, tears streaking down her face as she tried to push both away. Steve stood aside, feeling useless and unsure as he watched the two. Nikki

  looked up at him, a helpless expression in her eyes.

  "Get Bali," she ordered.

  Steve shuffled a step back, unsure what to do.

  "Steve!" she yelled, voice stronger this time. "Get Bali. Now."

  The table had fallen silent, all of their eyes turned towards the kitchen. It wasn't a shocked silence, though, but the quiet of people who had experienced similar situations many times over and yet it still scared them. They all seemed to be plastered to their seats, each teen petrified at the noises coming from the kitchen. It almost sounded like

  Hannah was being murdered.

  Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs and Bali stopped at their base to meet Steve's gaze, the man's silver eyes wide in horror. He pushed past Steve with enough force

  to send the soldier stumbling into the wall. Steve managed to right himself a second later, though there was now a hand-shaped hole in the drywall, and followed Bali back to

  the kitchen.

  Hannah was still on the floor, pressed against the cabinets as if trying to make herself smaller. But she was no longer screaming. Her eyes were screwed shut and her arms

  were wrapped around her legs. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she muttered under her breath. Nikki kneeled before her, her hand outstretched towards her sister but not

  quite touching as if afraid to do so. The sight brought Steve to a stop in the doorway and his heart seemed to be caught in his throat.

  Nikki looked up at Bali, helplessness clear in her eyes, "I can't get her out of it."

  Bali kneeled down in front of Hannah and Nikki backed away. Steve continued to watch on the sidelines as she pressed her lips into a hard line and clenched her fists until her

  knuckles turned white. Her whole stance was rigid and afraid. Bali, on the other hand, remained relatively calm as he reached out tentatively for the younger sister.

  "Hannah," he crooned. "Can you hear me, sweetheart?"

  She barely moved in response. Her head shook as if trying to shake away whatever she was seeing. But Bali took one of her hands and gripped it tightly.

  "I know where you think you are," he whispered. "But you're safe here. It's May twelfth, two thousand fourteen and you're safe with me, Nanna."

  When Hannah nodded her head slowly, refusing to open her eyes, Steve noticed Nikki's hands seemed to shake ever so slightly. She looked so worried as she watched over the

  two. And when Bali made a wrong move and Hannah gave a startled shriek, the room seemed to stir as if the air itself was condensing. Steve jumped as a hand towel by the

  sink burst suddenly into flames. It was that phenomena which seemed to propel Nikki into action at last. She rushed to put out the flames, her hands still shaking.

  Bali's attention snapped towards her, his stormy silver eyes stern, "Nikki, out."

  She refused to acknowledge his gaze, her hands gripping the countertop as if she might fall if she let go. Her shoulders tensed like she was in pain. Bali, giving up on her,

  turned to look at Steve.

  "Get her out of here."

  The words were hard and commanding, but they were far from harsh. He returned his attention to Hannah the second Steve nodded his understanding. The super soldier

  walked briskly over to Nikki, putting a hand on her shoulder gently. But the touch seemed to snap her back into the present and she turned sharply on the balls of her feet

  before all but running from the room. As Steve made to follow her, he could still hear Bali trying to talk Hannah down from her hysteria.

  "I need you to do something for me, Nanna," he said, tone much kinder. "I need you to look around and tell me what you see. Can you do that for me?"

  The kids were still at the table as Steve walked out to follow Nikki, many of them shifting uncomfortably in their seats. She went almost entirely unhindered as she hurried out

  the room. Tandy reached out to her with an earnest expression, her hand falling just short of her surrogate mother's arm.

  "Nikki?"

  But the brunette ignored her, stomping up the stairs as if something was chasing after her. Steve followed tentatively, unsure if it was really such a good idea to follow her

  now. He had succeeded in getting her out of the kitchen. That was all Bali had asked of him. And yet a part of him argued that she looked upset, that he should try to help.

  So he found himself following her to a room upstairs on the far end of the house.

  The door was left ajar in her haste to escape, but that didn't mean Steve would barge in entirely. Instead, he hovered in the doorframe as she paced blindly in the sparse

  bedroom. She turned without warning and gave an angered cry as she struck the wall hard enough to dent the drywall. It was as if all the strength had suddenly left her. She

  collapsed onto the bed in the next second, running her hands through her hair as she hung her head.

  How was it possible that she could have been aloof and poised not an hour ago when he found her in the rec room? It was her armor, he realized. Here before him was a

  woman who was vulnerable and wanted to come off strong. A member of her makeshift family was hurt, though, and that armor revealed her through the cracks. She looked

  dejected and hurt, her eyes staring determinedly at the floor.

  Unable to wait in silence any longer, Steve knocked on the door softly. There was a look of shame in her expression when she met his gaze. She had never meant for anyone

  to see her like that. That much was clear in her eyes.

  "Are you alright?"

  She gave a noncommittal shrug, "I'm fine."

  "No one is ever 'fine'," he answered, remembering when Pepper had taught him that. "May I come in?"

  "I suppose."

  She didn't look at him as he approached. Nor did she so much as move when he sat down a foot beside her. She simply stared down at her feet as she wrung her wrists. Steve

  tried to think of something he could say,

  "Have you ever felt like you have all the strength in the world, and yet you're still not strong enough to help those that matter?"

  Her words rang through him like ripples in a pond. His mind was forced back to 1944, to Bucky as he plummeted to the ravine. He knew that feeling all too well. But, before he

  could say anything in reply, she gave a shaky laugh of disbelief.

  "Why am I even telling you this?" she asked, though the words sounded like they were directed more towards herself than him. "I've only known you for – what? – a couple

  hours? And here I am, telling you things I shouldn't."

  She ran a hand through her dark hair, a weary expression of disbelief on her face, "I guess it's because I can't really tell the others. What's that saying? 'It's easier to confide

  in a stranger because they cannot judge us on what we've done'? And there I go again. I really should stop…"

  "Yes."

  Nikki's eyes flew up to his, shock clear in her expression as she misund
erstood his meaning. But Steve wouldn't lie to her. She had seemed so distant and cold upon first meeting him. But she was just trying to protect both herself and her family, he realized. Her mask broke under pressure and stress that he immediately recognized as something

  that had built up over the years. And, for some reason he could not explain, he felt like she shouldn't feel as lonely as she looked.

  "I've felt that way before," he explained, blue eyes meeting brown. "More often recently."

  "Who was it? If you don't mind my asking."

  He made to object, but she gave him a wan smile.

  "Don't deny it," she muttered. "I know that look."

  "Their names were Timothy Dugan, Gabe Jones, Jim Morita, James Falsworth, Jacques Dernier, Gilmore Hodge, Peggy Carter, and Bucky Barnes."

  It took more of his strength than he had thought to keep his voice steady as he thought of the people he had lost. There was a horrified shock in her eyes as she listened to

  him list the Howling Commandos he had fought alongside so long ago. He didn't look away from her gaze as he spoke.

  "I lost my parents, too, but that was a very long time ago."

  Her voice was so small when she spoke again, "What happened?"

  "Time," he answered with a shrug. "You've lost someone, too, haven't you?"

  She stood up, walking to the desk to pull a manila folder out of the top drawer. Tossing it on the bed next to him, she leaned against the desk to watch him.

  "Too many," she replied. "I suppose that's why I worry so much for Hannah and the kids. I'm afraid that, one day, something will put them in danger and I won't be enough to

  protect them."

  Was this really the family S.H.I.E.L.D. thought was allied to HYDRA? The very notion seemed ridiculous now. They were a ragtag bunch of teenagers and almost a handful of

  adults. But they were also a group of people with strange powers and no obvious source. As if that wasn't enough, Coulson had obviously thought it important enough to

  warrant a search.

  But watching Nikki sheepishly meet his gaze as if ashamed of what she was telling him, bearing her weaknesses for him to see and understand, made him think twice. It made