Introduction

All the chaos concerning Thanos was over. And of course, Tony Stark had to throw a party.

I'd spent about an hour on my makeup, and I was past caring at this point. My curly hair was out of my face, my heels weren't too uncomfortable, and my clutch was big enough to hold a notebook and pen, so that's really all that mattered.

I glanced into the mirror one more time before I left, but found myself rolling my eyes. I wasn't meant to stand out, all I had to do was take pictures and pray I'd get a few quotes from reliable primary sources. Camera strapped around my neck and clutch in hand, I walked out of my apartment and made my way downstairs. Within five minutes, I'd flagged down a taxi and was watching the city lights flash by.

Avengers Tower loomed in the distance, standing tall and bright over old banks and locally owned Chinese restaurants. I couldn't help the way the corner of my lips curved up in a smirk. The building exuded the cocky arrogance of its creator.

"Where do you want to be left off, miss?" the taxi driver asked gruffly.

"A block down from the Tower, please," I replied. I saw the relieved look in the taxi driver's eyes reflect through the mirror. No one is insane enough to drive a common taxi up to the front of Avengers Tower during a formal gala.

The taxi stopped abruptly, but I smiled as I paid the driver and got out. I made my way down the sidewalk, heels click-clacking on the concrete in an even rhythm. As I got closer, the familiar sounds of cameras flashing and newspeople giving their inevitably biased spiel felt like a comforting blanket on my nerves.

Chin held high in false confidence, I approached the throng of people. The words "pardon me, excuse me, coming through, sorry, pardon me!" fell out of my mouth with each bump and turn. Taking a deep breath, I finally found myself in front of a man in a suit.

"Name?" he asked.

"Elizabeth Reynolds," I replied.

He put a finger up to a device in his ear, then nodded. "You're at table nineteen, Miss Reynolds. Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks," I said, having to stop myself from accidentally saying "you too."

I made my way inside, keeping a closed lip smile on. It wouldn't do any good to look overly excited or completely bored, so I went for something in between. Pleasant, but neutral. As I looked around the ballroom, I saw a few faces that I recognized, mostly celebrities and a few well known politicians. Notably, there were none that had been in favor of the Sokovian Accords two years ago. Celebrities and politicians weren't my targets, though, so I kept looking.

A quote or two from Pepper Potts would be nice, but my research told me that she was in London at a conference. From what the tabloids said, Bruce Banner would probably be nice enough to entertain me for a few minutes, but I doubted he'd be easy to find in a high stress environment like this. I glanced over at the bar hoping to see Tony Stark grabbing a scotch, but no such luck.

I was beginning to wonder where I would even start when I saw a dark figure over by a column. He wasn't quite in the shadows, just hovering by the edge of them. His face showed calm, but the telltale twitching of his hands betrayed him. That's when I noticed it - one of the hands was metal.

It was times like these I wondered how the world had ever become this way. How it could be that I was currently looking at a former Hydra assassin, and a ninety five year old one at that. I glanced around the room again. With no other Avenger in sight, I'd better take the opportunity I was given.

I reached into my clutch as I made my way across the room, grabbing my notebook and pen. But as I got closer, I could see the way his eyes were constantly flickering all over the room. The word "paranoid" flitted through my mind, and I found myself tucking my notebook and pen away.

I replaced my neutral expression with a bright smile, although I knew it probably looked hesitant. "Excuse me, Sargent Barnes?"

Blue eyes flickered to acknowledge me, and I made sure I was still smiling.

After no response, I felt my false confidence already wavering. "I was wondering if I could get a few words from you about the attack? I understand this was your first time being a part of the Avengers team?"

His eyes were blank, but it almost seemed intentional. Like he was trying to keep in whatever he was thinking. I couldn't say that I wasn't doing the same thing.

My throat seemed to tighten as silence filled the space between us. "I-I'm not," I stuttered. "I'm not, I don't work for a news organization or anything. Online blog, er, website. We- ah, we focus on being factually correct. There are always so many biases in the world and it's hard to know who to believe so we-" I swallowed, finding it hard to keep talking under his intense stare. "We try to be a light in the darkness."

"We can always use more of that, can't we, Buck?"

I turned and saw Steve Rogers, a man technically my age, but his aged eyes showed otherwise. "Miss Reynolds, a pleasure to meet you. I get your articles in my...ah..." he trailed off awkwardly.

"Inbox?" I suggested.

His eyes brightened. "Yes! Yes, that."

I gave him an understanding look. "Still catching up on culture differences?"

He sighed, but put on a smile. "It seems like things change everyday."

"Modern society has a propensity toward being incredibly fast paced," I empathized. "Don't feel too bad about falling behind, it happens to all of us."

Captain Rogers smiled. "I doubt it happens to everyone else, but thanks. As I was saying, I enjoy reading your articles. Tony isn't as big of a fan, I think he doesn't like reading an honest reflection of himself," he rambled.

I found myself blushing. I knew exactly what article he was referring to.

"But anyways," Captain Rogers continued, "I'm glad you were able to make it tonight. If you need anything, let me know and I'll be glad to help, okay?"

"Thank you, I appreciate your offer," I smiled.

Captain Rogers smiled back at me before he glanced at Sargent Barnes. His eyes were inquisitive, bordering on concerned.

"Buck, would you want to go get a-"

"How come you put away your journal?"

I don't know what startled me more, the question or his voice. The question broke through the steadily rising awkwardness between the three of us, almost like a command, but his voice was strangely soft and timid.

"I-" I started, but couldn't think of how to put it. "I saw that you, well, I- I wanted to come tonight to get quotes about the attack, but you...you looked nervous and...I figured that writing down every word you said wouldn't help," I fumbled.

I was staring up at Sargent Barnes with a mixture of worry and hope. Worry that he'd still feel uncomfortable, hope that my confession would help ease his remaining tension. I could see Captain Rogers smiling slightly out of the corner of my eyes, but I focused on the man in front of me.

"What's your background, Miss Reynolds?" Captain Rogers asked curiously.

I took my eyes off Sargent Barnes to answer. "Dual bachelors degrees in Psychology and Media Journalism with a history minor. Why?"

The smile seemed to grow. "I might have a question for you later. At the moment, however, I'm going to get a drink- excuse me," he dismissed himself politely.

There was a moment of quiet before Sargent Barnes' voice cut through with a gentle, "You can take them back out now- your journal and pen."

I wasted no time opening up my clutch and grabbing the aforementioned tools, smiling excitedly all the while. After glancing around the room for a bit, I spotted an empty table nearby.

"Would you wanna take a seat?" I asked. Hesitation blossomed in his eyes, so I made another attempt. I found myself smiling awkwardly up at Sargent Barnes. "Table for two?"

A slight smile came on his lips, and he nodded. We made our way over to a table on the side of the ballroom, and I set down my things. The moment he sat down, I noticed the fidgeting begin again. It seemed to come back now that Steve was gone.

I took the lens cap off my camera and fiddled with the settings to account for the lighting change. "Sorry, give me a second..." I mumbled. "Are you okay with a few photos?" I asked.

Sargent Barnes made a split second face akin to the grumpy cat. "Sure."

I tried to hide my grin as I looked through the finder. I knew he wasn't going to be one to smile and pose for the camera, but that was fine. It wouldn't suit him anyways.

I snapped a few photos, taking note of how his awkward stares off into the distance came across as contemplative. After a few sneaky close ups of his folded hands, I clipped the lens cap back on and set the camera to the side.

"So...first of all, what do you want me to call you?" I asked as I flipped through my notebook for an empty page.

"...James," he replied softly.

I looked up and smiled at him. "Alright, James. Like I said, I understand that this was your first time being involved in the Avengers team-"

"I'd rather not be in the spotlight," he said abruptly.

An empathetic smile came onto my face. "That makes two of us. Now I don't really wanna focus on the attack itself, but before that. You were in cryostasis in Wakanda, correct?"

"Yes," he replied.

I tried to not smile at his short answer. I shouldn't have expected anything superfluous. "And your arm? Who reconstructed it?"

Sargent Barnes seemed to freeze. I noticed the way his bionic fingers tensed, like metal being stretched to its breaking point. I fought the urge to reach forward and place a reassuring hand on his. It wouldn't help him like it would most people.

"It...my arm was reconstructed by Tony Stark...it had been about a year since everything happened, and...Steve went to apologize because he knew that there wasn't anyone else who could fix me," he confessed.

Another smile came into my face. "It sounds like Steve is a very good friend, then."

Sargent Barnes let out a small laugh. "He's crazy, but yeah...yeah he is a good friend."

I wrote down a few more notes, then clicked my pen shut. "Anything you wanna add?" I asked.

Sargent Barnes paused, eyes staring out over the crowd. "Yeah, I apologize for not being as social as I should be."

I raised a curious eyebrow at this.

"Steve says that I tend to be...off putting," he explained. "Intimidating, sometimes."

"There's no need to apologize for who you are," I told him. "You went through a lot, you can't be expected to act like everyone else."

He shrugged. "I suppose...I don't mean to scare people, I think it just happens."

I mimicked his shrug. "You didn't scare me."

A small smile came onto his lips. "You don't seem the type to get scared easily."

A full laugh erupted from my lips at his comment. "I'll take that as a compliment, Sargent."

"James," he corrected lightly.

"Right, sorry," I apologized. At that moment, a waiter passed by with glasses of champagne, but we both declined. I gazed out at the crowd, watching people mingling, drinking, and laughing with glazed eyes.

"If it makes you feel better," I said after a moment of silence, "parties were never really my scene, either."

He gave me a curious look. "How could you tell?"

"The twitching," I commented casually. "I used to do that in big crowds, too. Or if I had to do a speech in one of my college courses."

He hummed, and I took that as an affirmation of my theory. After a few more minutes of people-watching, he stood suddenly from the table.

"Would you like to meet anyone else?" he offered. "I doubt you got enough information from me for your article."

I smiled, hearing the feelings of self deprecation behind his offer. "I'm sure I got plenty from our conversation, but sure!" After awkwardly scrambling to get all of my things together, I followed Sargent Barnes closely through the crowd, hoping I wouldn't lose him.

I suddenly found myself stopping abruptly at the edge of a conversation circle, one made up of Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, the Vision, and Wanda Maximoff.

Up close, the superheroes seemed almost...normal. Natasha had on a black dress with a nude lipstick I recognized from a recent Sephora ad. Bruce looked as though he'd dressed himself, if his slightly crooked tie didn't say that already. The Vision wore a black suit and his mechanical eyes somehow exuded warmth. Even Wanda, though her eyes were tinged with red, seemed completely normal in a petal pink off the shoulder gown.

I found myself suddenly overwhelmed, but this is where Sargent Barnes had stopped. He clearly thought it would be okay for me to be here and talk to them.

"This is Eliza Reynolds, writer for Esse Quam Videri," Sargent Barnes introduced.

Now their eyes all turned to me, and I felt even more nervous. I didn't even have the time to wonder how he knew the name of my website.

"She interviewed me already, but I imagine she didn't get enough," he continued. "I brought her over because I figured you all would be more...talkative."

"I can't imagine any Avenger other than Tony Stark would fit that qualification," the Vision answered succinctly.

I fought the urge to laugh. "You may have a point, but if Mr. Stark did all the talking, then it wouldn't be a balanced article," I replied honestly.

Miss Romanov quirked a smile. "She has a good point. Who do you want to grill first?" she asked.

I glanced around the group, and my eyes landed on the one person I knew would rather leave the party sooner than later. "Dr. Banner, would you care to join me? I like to talk with people away from all the noise."

Dr. Banner looked up at me and pushed his glasses up his nose before he wrung his hands once more. "Where, ah, where would you like to interview me?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

I smiled as gently as I could. "Just off to the side of the crowd. Sargent- I mean, James and I sat there earlier."

The doctor seemed to be okay with my answer, so he followed me back through the crowd to the table I'd recently vacated. And so went the night. First I chatted with Doctor Banner about his latest research, then with Miss Romanov about her side hobbies and favorite places in Manhattan. After that, I shared a table with the Vision and Wanda, seeing as how they'd both seemed uncomfortable with the idea of not being by each other's side. I didn't do so much talking as I did watching them talk, listening to her compare American culture to Sokovian culture and hearing his views on the fascinating details of humanity that he'd come to pick up on over his few years alive.

"Humans have a constant need for silence to be filled, for energy to be used. They feel that if it is not, then they have wasted precious time that cannot ever be accounted for again during their lifespan," Vision commented.

I hummed. "I may disagree with you on that one. Perhaps your view has been clouded because of the limited people you are around, but not all humans are like that. Some enjoy silence, and some are grateful for when they do not have to use as much energy as usual."

"Such as Sargent Barnes?" the Vision enquired.

"Yes, that'd be a good example," I agreed. "Most likely he learned to like silence because he doesn't always know what to say. As for energy, I'm sure he enjoys not feeling on mission all the time anymore, but he still does have his nervous twitches."

The Vision nodded. "Similar to Doctor Banner."

"Precisely!" I smiled. "Everyone has their little quirks."

I saw Wanda take this thought into account, watching as she stared down at the red strands of magic swirling around her fingertips. The Vision, however, just cocked his head and looked at me. "What is your quirk? I have not detected any physical abnormalities."

A smile came onto my face at his innocent but inquisitive comment. "Not all quirks are physical. I would say my quirk is that I'm too empathetic."

His head tilted again. "I do not understand…empathy. I know its definition, but…its true meaning escapes me."

"The true meaning of empathy escapes many people," I acknowledged, wracking my brain for an analogy that might make sense for him. "For me, it's like being hyperaware. Not of my surroundings or of a potential threat, but of people's emotions. I pick up on them and take them on as my own in an attempt to understand them."

"Hence why you did not conduct a proper interview with either Sargent Barnes or the Doctor," Vision concluded.

I wanted to laugh at his use of the word "proper," but I knew what he meant. "Correct. I knew that a serious interview would impede their ability to give honest answers and that a relaxed approach would work better."

"I sensed that in you," Wanda spoke softly. "You hurt because others hurt, but you do not try to ease their pain to ease your own…why?"

I found myself glancing across the room at James, who had resumed his space halfway in the shadows. "We all need help at some point in our lives. You guys help people by saving them from danger, I help people by telling them the truth and understanding themselves."

Wanda nodded at this, but I noticed that Vision's eyes seemed to contract.

They suddenly dilated back to normal. "The Captain would like to speak with you, Miss Reynolds," Vision informed me. "And he has company."