December 16th - 2:46am

What am I doing after a failed gun class and some more training with Sam? Baking cookies. I've been baking since 5pm, and my last batch of cookies are in the oven. I made well over 100 of them, but Bucky's super-soldier stomach had eaten them ALL to Sam and I's dismay.

"Get out of the kitchen, Barnes. You don't get any more." I ordered sternly. The super-soldier was circling the oven in a vulture-like manner.

"I'll do what I want." He rolled his eyes hopping onto the counter next to me.

"Sam, get him out of here if you want any cookies." I groaned, only to be met with a snore from the sleeping agent.

"Looks like you're stuck with me." He shrugged. A smug smile, making an appearance.

"Okay, well I get atleast four cookies."

"That's reasonable." He nodded.

"Okay random question." I blurted. Hopefully this won't undo any of hard work I've put into the communication between Barnes and I.

"Shoot." He turned his face to examine my fidgety form.

"Why are we all of the sudden friends?" I started,

"I mean I'm not complaining - I'm just a little confused." I rambled, looking to the ground sheepishly.

"You remind me of someone I used to be close with." He replied, his body tensing up.

Slowly he let himself off of the counter, and held up a hand telling me not to follow.

"Bucky?" I called his name, clearly concerned with his actions.

"Take the handgun out of my waist-band and haul ass up to the safe room." He ordered, his voice low. He didn't even turn to face me, and his form looked like a mouse-trap getting ready to snap.

Not missing a beat, I approached him slowly and slid the gun out of his waist-band, peaking over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of what he was seeing.

"Run." He practically growled.

However as soon as I turned to do so, Bucky's metal arm grabbed me and placed me directly behind his massive form, hiding me.

"Someone is standing directly in front of the back door, if you run you'll be directly in their line of sight." He whispered.

"Jesus, just let me in, soldier." The voice shouted from behind the door.

"Stand down Bucky, it's just Frank." Sam notified, walking past Bucky and I to let our new guest in.

     A man, who was almost easily compared Bucky's size, waltzed in with two massive duffel bags in hand.

"You're early." Bucky commented, a pinch of hostility audible. He then took the gun from me and slid it back into his waist-band.

"Had to be so those pricks couldn't follow me." He explained, his voice was low and gravelly - slightly intimidating too.

"Bucky, chill." I whispered, gently placing my small hand into his back slightly. Damn, his back kind of felt like a brick wall.

     His posture remained tense, but his arm that caged me dropped to his side, allowing me to introduce myself to Frank.

"Thanks for helping." I spoke up nodding to him.

"You need all the help you can get kid. You've really got yourself stuck in a shit storm." He chuckled darkly.

"SHIT - the cookies!" I yelped, racing back to the oven. They were only slightly burned. 
Reaching in to save them, without a second thought, I gasped dropping the cookie tray. I forgot the damn oven mitts.

     Rolling his eyes, Bucky dragged me over to the kitchen sink - forcing my hands under the cool stream of water.

"I'll do her one better." Frank announced, bringing in a bowl of snow. Sending him a grateful nod, I shoved my hands into the snow.

"You really do need all the help you can get." He pointed out, taking a cookie off of the ground.

"Shit, these are decent." He sighed, with a mouthful.

"Good job Morgan." Sam complemented, shooting me a thumbs up.

"I'm never making cookies again." I groaned, examining my burnt hands.

"You definitely are." The three grown men dead-panned in unison.

"She stapled her hand this morning too." Sam joked, trying to break the ice with Frank.

"No shit." He smirked, grabbing his duffel bags and stalking down the hall.

"How does he know where to go?" I whispered to Sam and Bucky, my eyes following Frank's large form.

"He's been here before." Sam answered, smiling at my shifty stares.

"He's creepy." I narrowed my eyes, when he as fully out of sight.

"Yeah." The boys chimed in agreement.

"I'm turning in guys, enjoy the cookies." I yawned, heading up to my room - my hand still in the bowl of snow.

10:32am

"Miss Coulson, Mr. Barnes asked me to alert you that Tony and Steve are here." Jarvis alerted me, waking me up from my uncomfortable sleep. My hand was freezing, but that was probably because I left it in the bowl of snow all night.

"Thanks Jarvis, and please call me Morgan from now on." I requested, sliding into my slippers and bounding down the stairs.

"We made breakfast, MorgyG." Sam announced from the living room.

"MorgyG?" I laughed making my way into the kitchen.

"I was sick of calling you kid." He explained, following me into the kitchen.

"Is there any ointment here?" I asked, cradling my burnt hand.

"Why?" Tony asked from the doorway.

"Hey Stark!" I beamed.

"This looney tried taking a very hot cookie tray out of the oven without oven mitts." Bucky explained from behind me, startling me slightly.

"Damn, Morgan." Tony chuckled, pointing to the top cabinet that just happened to be out of my reach.

     Turning to my left, I had found Steve holding the bottle of ointment, a light smile ghosting his lips.

"Thanks Cap." I nodded, taking the ointment from him and graciously applying it to my burnt hand.

"How's the newest guest?" Tony prodded, taking a seat at the kitchen table, encouraging us to do the same.

"Fine." Frank announced, making his presence known.

"We need to go over our game plan." Steve pointed out, sliding into the seat next to me.

"So today, Steve and I will installing a security camera feed and a cot in the panic room," Tony started.

"A cot for who?" I spoke up.

"You, I'll be camping out in your room and you'll be sleeping in the panic room." Steve explained.

"Why?"

"Crossbones has pinpointed your location." He sighed, causing Bucky and Sam to tense up significantly.

"Barton and Romanoff will be joining us in an hour or so. We'll need all hand on deck." Tony finished.

"Morgan can't aim for shit, Frank will you work with her on that? Sam has covered basic defense." Bucky rubbed his face, clearly stressed.

"Can't take her outside, it's too risky." He shook his head.

"Take a silencer and tear up the sandbags?" Tony offered. 

"That might work." He grumbled.

"Nat told me that she went over different ways to get into the panic room?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, she covered any possible situation that I could get stuck in." I confirmed, squeezing my hands together. I can't believe those pricks found me.

"There's a few more things that need to be said, but we'll brief you later. For now, you've gotta work on your aim." Steve urged, nodding at Frank to take me to the makeshift gym area.

"It probably has to do with my family, doesn't it?" I gave Frank a knowing look. 

"Don't start that shit now, you'll need a clear head for the next 48 hours." He explained, giving me an unreadable look.

"Sorry, just a little nervous." I admitted, entering the warm room with Frank.

"How bad is your aim exactly?" He asked, setting up some magazines filled with ammo.

"Bad enough for Barnes to give up." I shrugged, earning a bewildered look from Frank.

"Show me." He demanded after screwing the silencer onto the gun.

     Taking the gun from him, I cocked it and shot the punching bag, barely grazing it.

"You've got a shitty stance and you're holding it wrong." He sighed, pinching his temple.

     Approaching me from behind, he tapped the areas that needed to be tense and he adjusted my arms - the back of my head bumping into his toned chest every now and then.

"Try now, but try and center the dots at the end of the gun." He urged stepping back and crossing his arms.

     Steadying my breath, I aimed and then fired the gun - the bullet going straight through the middle of the punching bag.

"Good job, kid. You just needed to know the basics." He praised.

"Shoot the one that's further away." He boomed.

     Filled with a new confidence, I took my aim and shot straight through the middle of the punching bag again.

"Good." He slapped my back, causing me to tumble forward a bit.

"I was told you were a sniper?" I asked, brushing some loose hairs out of my face.

"I used to be. They call me the punisher now." He replied leaning against the wall behind him.

"That's pretty bad ass!" I nodded.

"You don't gotta worry 'bout a thing kid. You've got a damn good protection squad watching your six." He encouraged randomly.

"Thanks?" I replied unsurely.

1:00pm

"Clint let her use you as a guinea pig." Natasha demanded sternly.

"Cmon please?" I piped up from beside her.

"Get over here and show me." He grumbled, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"Sam taught me this." I spoke before hip tossing Clint.

"Nice, Солнечный свет." She complemented.

"Was that Russian?" I perked up, offering Clint a hand up.

"She said Sunshine." Clint explained, a grin making its way onto his face.

     Right after that, he swung a few lazy shots at me and I dodged them all.

"Bucky taught me that." I chuckled. He wasn't a patient teacher, but he was a good one.

"Good job, but don't try that with the hydra operatives. Every time you get the chance, run." Clint deadpanned.

"Any news on my family?" I asked moving to sit criss-cross on the cool tile.

"You wanna tackle that, Tash?" Clint's expression softened.

"Damn, actually Steve or Barnes can take this one." She refused, nodding to the two super soldiers in the doorway.

"What the fuck, just tell me." I snapped, I really didn't like where this was going.

"Phil will be your legal guardian until you reach the age of 18." Steve sighed, meeting my eyes with a compassionate tone behind them.

"To hell with that, my mom and him never got along." I snorted, a distinct thanksgiving memory resurfacing.

"Your mom is no longer with us." Bucky just went ahead and bit the bullet.

"You're just fucking with me." I shook my head, shock getting the best of me.

     There's no way she's gone, she can't be. She can't die thinking that I was kidnapped or dead. She's not dead, right?

"Steve?" I looked up to meet his gaze with watery eyes.

     Approaching me slowly, he sank to the ground next to me and pulled me into a side hug similar to the hugs Sam gave me.

"She died alone, not knowing if I was alive or not." I sighed shakily.

"We'll kill the fuckers that did this." Bucky declared, earning a nod from me.

"They're here." Clint growled checking his beeping device.

"Get Morgan to the save room." Steve picked me up and threw me to Bucky.

"Cmon doll." He grunted following me up to my room.

"Do not use this unless it's completely necessary, and don't leave this room." He commanded, handing me a gun, then sealing the panic room door shut.

     Slowly I slid down the door, watching the hydra operatives with the live feed Tony set up. Mom is dead, my best friend is dead, and soon I'll be dead.

     10 cars. Lots of people. Lots of guns. Lots of fighting. I'll be dead soon.