New York was easily my favorite place I'd ever visited in all my time on Earth.

The thing that made it so unique, so incredible to me was its sense of progression. And not like Wakanda, where technology and knowledge were almost easy to get, and where everything was designed to be perfect; no, New York was the raw struggle to push forward. To be better than they were, which was never a very pretty path. And yet, I loved every second I was there. What was truly fascinating to me was how far people were willing to both rebel and conform to the standards set at a time. New York in the '20s was full of pushing the limits, of secrets and prosperity, where it seemed anyone can do anything. Then, everything changed when the stock market crashed. Suddenly, the goal wasn't to break through the limits; it essentially came down to surviving.

The beauty in the downfall was how the people reacted in a time of despair. Despite the struggles people faced, they suddenly realized the importance of what they did have. And the secrets turned into trust, prosperity to perseverance. Where even the smallest bits of happiness were enough.

That was what was buzzing through my head as I walked along Coney Island Beach, watching the flock of tourists, couples, and children shrieking in delight in the water and sand. It was so easy to lose yourself to the colors and scents that were swirling in the air, ranging from the salt of the sea to the smallest traces of churros coming from the fairgrounds. I had taken my shoes off, some strappy sandals that had only flung sand up my legs, and they hung from my loose grip. It was an incredibly lazy Thursday afternoon, the kind where it was too warm to stay in my small apartment, even with the windows opened. Instead, I decided to wander the streets of Brooklyn, eventually finding myself walking towards the large ferris wheel that marked Coney Island. It was a spur of the moment decision, something I thought would simply pass time until the sun fell. Instead, it led me down the single best and worst path of my entire life.

"I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't mean for that to happen," I heard someone say, though it sounded like he was fighting back a smile. I glanced towards the entrance to the Cyclone, where a pair of boys were standing near a trash can. Or, should I say, one was doubled over it, his skinny frame clutching onto the sides with whitened knuckles.

"Oh, shut up," the boy groaned, his face completely white before it ducked into the trash can again. The other boy, far taller with neatly combed brown hair, didn't bother holding back a smile as he gave the smaller boy's shoulder a friendly pat.

"Gladly. But seriously, you're gonna pay for the food next time if you plan on just throwing it back up thirty minutes later," the boy joked, and the other one cracked a crooked smile.

I was finally passing close by the pair, and the taller one glanced up before flashing a wide smile at me. "Afternoon, miss!" he called, shifting as if in an attempt to block the blond boy, who was still very much ill in the trash can.

I smiled back. "Is he alright?" I asked, directing my course to intercept them. As I approached, the blond boy jerked upwards, his cheeks and ears tinged the slightest shade of pink.

"I'm alright," he said hurriedly, giving a small smile as if to reassure me. The taller one laughed, slinging an arm around him. The boy glared at him before his eyes lit up. "You can totally blame him, though. He was the one who forced me onto that dumb ride."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" I mused, crossing my arms lightly. "In that case, I suppose I should avoid him at all costs, right?"

"I think that might be a little drastic," the taller one interjected, his elbow jamming into the other's arm as if in warning. I held back a smile, and he opened his mouth to continue before I cut him off.

"It was a pleasure, and I'm glad you're alright, but I really should be going."

"Where to?" The brown haired boy grinned, taking an exaggerated step forward until he was walking in line with me. Steve trailed behind, though he didn't look too upset at that fact.

I scoffed. "I'm not particularly picky. As long as a pair of no-good, troublesome, and slightly invasive brothers aren't there. You are brothers, yes?" I noticed the boy's head shoot up as I was speaking, and he cracked a grin before shaking his head.

"No, not brothers. Might as well be though." He leaned backward slightly, throwing an arm around Steve's shoulders and dragging him in line with us. "And I'm way better looking anyway."

"Mm," I hummed, shaking my head. "I'm sure every lady falls head over heels for that line."

"You'd be surprised," Steve cut in, once again trying to flatten his hair. "Personally, I think he's just too full of himself to even see properly."

I held back a laugh as he glared at Steve. "Anyways," he enunciated, once again grinning at me. "I'm Bucky. Bucky Barnes."

"It's James," Steve whispered, a smile tugging on his lips. "Just call him that, it annoys him."

I smiled fully at the blond boy, which he returned almost immediately. "Nice to meet you, James," I quipped, watching as his hand gripped Steve's shoulder slightly tighter. "I... should be on my way."

Bucky sighed before stepping in front of me. "You won't even give me a name? Anything?"

I tilted my head to the side, contemplating it for a moment. "It's Asariel."

"Asariel?" He made a show of making a face. "That's a weird name."

"And that is quite rude."

"I'm just saying," he held up his hands, once again smiling. "It's nice. But weird."

"You're trying awfully hard to keep up a conversation," I smirked, trying to sidestep past Bucky. "And I'm only playing along because there is a large chance I am never going to see you again. So if you will excuse me–"

"Aw, come on. There's a diner right around the corner. We can get milkshakes, dance if you want. I'll make it worth your time," Bucky insisted, tilting his head down slightly. "Promise."

"I'm okay, thank you. I'm flattered, though," I shrugged him off, though I had stopped trying to move past him. "Besides, I'm sure Steve would be lonely."

"I'm used to it," he muttered, shrugging lopsidedly.

"Fine. Well I'll still escort you through the city. Show you all the sights," Bucky decided, nodding firmly before turning around.

"No need. I've lived here all my life." A lie, though I had lived in New York for long enough. "Thank you."

"No you haven't. You have an accent," Bucky pointed out, and I looked at him questioningly. "It's not obvious, so while you haven't lived here your whole life, it's been a long time. Maybe British? Something like that."

I was slightly impressed. "Fair enough. Even then, I know the area."

"Even then, you haven't known the area until you have me as a tour guide. And it doesn't even have to be a date. Just consider it a friendly act from someone you met off the street," Bucky grinned, holding out an arm. I eyed him, amused, before smiling and linking arms with Steve.

"You can tag along, if you'd like," I chirped at Bucky, smiling at Steve's rather shocked expression. Bucky, on the other hand, looked almost impressed, and only shrugged.

"Fine by me. I'd get to spend my afternoon with both my best friend and a beautiful dame."

I rolled my eyes, though felt my cheeks grow warm nonetheless.

Steve seemed flustered, his arm stiffened in my own, though he didn't seem to have any much trouble navigating the streets of the city. However, both he and Bucky seemed to easily flow off of each other's thoughts, the two of them effortlessly giving off random facts about each area. Not any normal facts, or even any normal areas for that matter. Instead, they seemed to drag me along to the places with 'most importance'.

"Now this place," Bucky announced, waving to what looked like a mediocre diner named 'Tom's' with a flourish, "Is the single best place for milkshakes in all of Brooklyn. If you think otherwise, I may need to walk away right now because we would never be able to speak to each other again."

"And that would be so terrible," I joked, finding it easier and easier to relax in the company of these two.

"It would. Because how else would I be able to take you for dinner? It'd be a shame, for sure," Bucky replied easily, nodding appreciatively at the building.

"Oh, I--" I started, feeling my cheeks warm once more, before Steve interrupted.

"This is also a great place, because other than most other places we've been, I haven't gotten into some brawl with someone here," Steve said brightly, matting down his hair with his free hand. Bucky made a face, turning to the smaller boy.

"No, you did. With, ah... what's his name? With the gap in his teeth?"

Steve shot him a questioning look before it melted off into one of recognition. "Oh yeah. Hanson."

Bucky snapped his fingers. "That's the one."

"I see. And why exactly is it you get into so many fights?" I asked, mostly because the thought had been nagging at me since the first alley we had stopped at.

"He's way too dumb to back away from a fight. He's like a... a chihuahua. Too much aggression shoved into too small of a body," Bucky joked, ignoring the elbow that Steve jabbed into his side. "In all honesty, he had good intentions. He just doesn't know what to do with 'em."

I raised an eyebrow. "You aren't exactly helping your case," I laughed lightly. "But I will admit, this is not what I expected when I was told I was getting a tour of the city."

Bucky beamed, while Steve's ears and cheeks flushed a pale pink.

It was so easy to talk to these boys. And a part of me immediately shied away from that, knowing that I'd need to disappear in a few years, knowing I couldn't ever forgive myself for disappearing and never seeing them again if it came down to it. And it always came down to that. It was my life, to live somewhere for a time before wiping myself off the map, relocating and starting the cycle again. It was exhausting. It was paranoid. It was safe.

And suddenly, with an hour long trek through the streets of Brooklyn with a couple of rag tag kids, I didn't want to be alone. At least not for the few years I'd be here.

Steve was rambling again, his arm finally relaxed in mine, and I could only smile, making a silent vow to myself.

I wouldn't be alone this time.

~*~

"Well, whaddya know!" A voice shouted above the babble of people, and I tilted my face down to hide the pleased smile that threatened to crack along my face. "It's the mystery girl!"

I glanced over, thoroughly happy to see the pair suddenly pushing their way towards me. It'd been almost a month since that tour, a month where I couldn't help but hope I'd run into them again. Despite the initial surge of hope I had felt at the idea of making actual friends, I desperately talked myself out of it. After all, it was a reckless and selfish thing to do, especially as I had done well living the way I had before. But... I couldn't help myself. And I compromised. If I happened to run into them again, if fate would have it, I'd give in. If not, I'd never think of them again. So when Bucky's grinning face shone distantly among the gaggle of people in the park, his hand waving in a friendly manner as Steve's head bobbed by his shoulder, I felt a warmth spread across my chest, and waved back.

I shifted slightly, straightening but not standing from the blanket I had laid out on the grass of the park I had wandered into. As the two approached, I gave them a lazy smile, though I wasn't sure what to say. As it turned out, it wasn't much, as Steve plopped down next to me as if he had done it a million times before.

"Please, please tell him to shut up," he groaned, tucking his face between his knees. "He won't stop pestering me about whether or not he completely ruined his chances with you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" I asked, smirking up as Bucky shrugged.

"What can I say. You ruined me."

"I'm sure. Here, if you can say my name, right now, I'll let you take me to dinner."

Bucky's cheeks tinged pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck as Steve snickered. "It started with an A? Aaaaaaaa... nna?" I shook my head, and he shrugged. "What is it."

"Asariel," I smiled, and once again, he made a face.

"First of all, I got the A name right. Second of all, seriously, who named you that?" Bucky demanded, sitting down in front of me and wrapping his arms around his knees. "It sounds like some mythical entity who probably cursed someone at least once in their lifetime."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"Whatever. I'm calling you Asa," he said pointedly, smiling as pride filled his entire face. "That's much better."

"But it's not my name!" I argued, feeling my face warm.

"I like nicknames. And for the record, I think it suits you." He glanced at me. "So what were you doing before we bestowed yourself with our presence, Asa?"

I shook my head, though a smile still tugged at the corners of my mouth. "I was reading." I nodded to the abandoned book on my lap. "And I like being outdoors, so I figured sitting in the park would be worth my time."

"Fair enough."

"How've you two been?"

"Honestly?" Bucky stretched out, crossing his ankles and leaning back onto his palms. "I've been okay. Busy, but good."

Steve chimed in, rolling his eyes good naturedly. "Busy schmizzy. I've finally bought some good art supplies, which is pretty much all I've been doing for the last week."

I raised my eyebrows. "You draw?"

"Sure," he shrugged, crossing his legs next to me. "And paint. I'm not amazing at it though."

"I don't believe that for a second," I grinned. "You are definitely a prodigy, I can tell by looking at you."

"Oh he is," Bucky nodded, and Steve flushed pink. "It's amazing. Hey, you should stop by our place. Steve can show you some of it."

"Oh, no no no," Steve yelped, his hands twisting with the twine tied around his shoe. I caught a glimpse of an old newspaper through the worn out sole, and I felt a frown twitch down the corners of my lips. "She doesn't–"

"Not to mention, it gives me an excuse to get special treatment from Mrs. Daley," he interrupted, sending a pointed glare at the smaller boy, who only seemed to swell with defiance. "She loves company."

"Mrs. Daley?" I asked, curiosity piqued despite a hesitance settling over my shoulders.

"Our landlady," Steve grumbled. "She's really nice, but she's known me too long. Old friends with my... with my dad."

I opened my mouth before snapping it closed, and I knew it was a heavy topic. Bucky a eyes had dropped to his lap, his fingers digging slightly into the grass as Steve swallowed.

"If you don't want me to go, I won't," I said slowly, watching as Steve's shoulders loosened slightly, his eyes softening.

"No, it's okay. I just don't want your expectations to be too high, it's not all that great. Not a bad idea about Mrs. Daley, though, eh Buck?" Steve joked, his hand travelling up to his head to flatten his hair yet again.

That's how our story began. An introduction on the street, a tour of a city I already knew, and total, chaotic chance. Little did I know how much those two kids from Brooklyn would change my life, just how much I changed for them. Little did I know that that shabby apartment, with its cracked mirror on the wall and the dirty window, with the pile of torn up shoes in the entryway and the scraps of papers with doodles and paintings alike pinned up on the walls like priceless monuments, and with scrawls of poetry written in a messy hand that lay curled up on the dingy table, that it was there I felt more at home than I had ever felt since leaving Asgard. Because that beginning would spiral into so much more, a story beyond anything I thought would be possible on the tiny, insignificant planet I loved so dearly.

It began with a boy who wanted to prove himself in a world that told him he couldn't, with another who hid his heart that was too big for its own good behind a flirty wink and a smile, and with a girl who only wanted to find home in a life where she didn't have one. And this ragtag group of us, born of a coincidence and new art supplies, went on to change the world.