Chapter 8
March 12th, 2014
"Adjust your center of gravity," Steve instructed, demonstrating the proper stance as Sara mirrored his movements. "Lower by two inches and shift your weight to the balls of your feet. You'll have better balance for the transition."
Sara nodded, making the correction and feeling the immediate improvement in her stability. They were in the specialized training room, working on what Steve called "adaptive combat transitions"—the seamless integration of conventional fighting techniques with power deployment that Natasha had emphasized in their recent sessions.
"Better," Steve approved, circling her to examine the stance from all angles. "Now, try the sequence again. Remember, the fire projection should feel like an extension of the physical movement, not a separate action."
Taking a deep breath, Sara launched into the combination they'd been practicing—a defensive sidestep flowing into a sweeping kick, followed immediately by a controlled burst of flame that extended the kick's range and impact. The fire moved with her leg in a perfect arc, striking the reinforced training dummy with precision.
"Good!" Steve's voice carried genuine enthusiasm. "The integration is much smoother. You didn't telegraph the power shift at all."
Sara grinned, pleased by the progress. Working with Steve had become one of her favorite parts of training over the past months. While Natasha focused on technique and adaptation, and Clint specialized in aerial maneuvers and unconventional approaches, Steve excelled at strategic integration—helping her combine conventional combat skills with her unique abilities in ways that maximized both.
"Once more," Steve directed, "but this time, I want you to maintain awareness of your surroundings. Combat is rarely one-on-one in a controlled environment."
At his signal, JARVIS activated the room's secondary systems. Additional training dummies descended from the ceiling on mechanized tracks, moving in unpredictable patterns around them as Sara repeated the sequence. This time, she incorporated situational awareness, tracking the moving targets while executing the primary attack, then immediately pivoting to address the nearest secondary threat.
A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead as she worked through the increasingly complex scenario, her muscles burning pleasantly with exertion. The months of intensive training had transformed her body as much as her control over her powers—building lean strength, enhancing reflexes, developing the physical foundation necessary to utilize her abilities effectively in the field.
After twenty minutes of progressive difficulty increases, Steve called a halt. "That's enough for today. Your adaptability is improving significantly. The way you modified that last sequence to account for the environmental obstacles was particularly impressive."
Sara accepted the water bottle he offered, gulping gratefully as she caught her breath. "Thanks. I've been studying the mission footage you shared—the Budapest operation especially. The way you adapted standard shield techniques for that confined corridor gave me some ideas."
"You've got a good eye for tactical translation," Steve commented, grabbing his own water. "Taking techniques designed for one context and adapting them to your specific abilities. Not everyone makes those connections naturally."
They moved to the bench along the wall, taking a brief recovery period before the scheduled cool-down exercises. Despite the intensity of the training, Sara felt energized rather than depleted—a sign of her improving stamina and the growing harmony between her physical capabilities and power management.
"So," Steve began after a moment, his tone shifting slightly, "I wanted to talk to you about something. A change in my situation that might affect our training schedule."
Sara turned to him, immediately attentive. Changes in the Avengers' routines always carried significance, whether due to missions, threats, or internal restructuring.
"I'm relocating to DC," Steve continued, confirming her suspicion that this was more than a casual update. "Temporarily, at least. SHIELD has some operations based out of their headquarters there that require my presence."
"How long?" Sara asked, trying to mask her disappointment. Steve's training sessions had become a cornerstone of her weekly routine, his methodical approach and strategic insights complementing Natasha's more improvisational style perfectly.
"Uncertain," he admitted with a slight grimace. "At least a few months. But," he added, seeing her expression, "I've worked with Natasha and Tony to ensure your training continues without interruption. We've mapped out a modified program that maintains all the key development areas while I'm away."
Sara nodded, processing this. It wasn't the first time an Avenger's departure had necessitated adjustments to her training schedule—various missions and obligations regularly took team members away from the tower. But Steve's extended absence felt different, especially with her birthday approaching.
"Is it just SHIELD work?" she asked, sensing there might be more to the situation. She'd grown adept at reading the subtle tensions and unspoken communications among the Avengers, particularly when official explanations didn't quite align with their body language or tone.
Steve studied her for a moment, seeming to consider how much to share. His relationship with Sara had evolved over the months from formal mentor to something closer to an uncle or older brother figure—someone who respected her enough to be straightforward even when others might shield her from complications.
"Not entirely," he admitted finally. "There's a personal component as well. Something I've been researching that might be easier to pursue from DC."
Sara waited, giving him space to elaborate if he chose. One of the things she appreciated most about Steve was his respect for her intelligence—he never condescended or overly simplified, even when discussing sensitive matters.
"I've received some information," he continued after a moment, "about someone from my past. Someone I thought was long gone. There's a possibility he might still be alive, and if he is..."
"You need to find him," Sara completed the thought, understanding immediately. Though Steve rarely spoke at length about his pre-ice life, the loss and displacement he'd experienced was evident in quiet moments, in the way he sometimes observed modern interactions with a mix of curiosity and melancholy.
"Yes," Steve confirmed with a small, grateful smile at her comprehension. "It's complicated, and honestly, it might be nothing. But I have to try."
"Of course you do," Sara agreed without hesitation. "That's who you are."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, Sara respecting the weight of whatever Steve was pursuing without pressing for details he wasn't ready to share.
"I'll still be available for remote sessions," Steve offered, breaking the quiet. "Video consultations, strategy reviews. And I'll be back periodically for team meetings and coordination."
"Don't worry about me," Sara assured him. "I'll keep working on the integration techniques, and you can critique my form via video when you have time. Your personal mission is more important."
Steve's expression softened with appreciation. "You've come a long way since we started training, you know. Not just in combat skills or power control, but in understanding what this life entails—the balance between duty and personal needs, between capability and responsibility."
"I had good teachers," Sara replied simply.
"The best student makes even average teachers look good," Steve countered with a hint of his dry humor. "And you, Sara Raavi, are far from an average student."
They completed their cool-down exercises, discussing the adjustments to Sara's training schedule that would accommodate Steve's absence. By the time they finished, Sara had reconciled herself to the change, focusing on the positive aspects—more specialized sessions with Natasha, additional technical work with Tony, and the potential for Steve to return with renewed perspective from his personal mission.
"I'll head out at the end of the week," Steve informed her as they prepared to leave the training room. "But I'd like to schedule a video check-in for next Wednesday, if that works with your school schedule? We can review your progress on the new integration sequences."
"Definitely," Sara agreed, making a mental note to shift her study group session with Zara and the others. "Just let me know what time works for you once you're settled in DC."
As they parted ways, Sara found herself reflecting on how naturally she'd adapted to the fluid nature of Avengers operations—the constantly shifting schedules, the unexpected changes in personnel availability, the need to adjust training and development paths in response to external factors. It was preparation, she realized, for the reality of the life she was moving toward—one where flexibility and adaptation were not just useful skills but essential survival traits.
Later that evening, Sara was in her quarters finishing a physics assignment when JARVIS announced an incoming video call from Steve. Surprised, given that he'd mentioned checking in next week rather than the same day, she quickly accepted the connection.
Steve's face appeared on her screen, the background suggesting he was in his private quarters rather than a common area of the tower. "Sara, sorry to call so late. Do you have a few minutes?"
"Of course," she replied, setting aside her studies and giving him her full attention. "Everything okay?"
"Yes, just..." he hesitated, seeming uncharacteristically uncertain. "I wanted to continue our conversation from earlier. In a more private setting."
Sara nodded, understanding immediately that whatever he was about to share was sensitive—not for the casual surveillance of common areas or the potential interruptions of other team members.
"What I told you about going to DC," Steve began, his voice lower despite the presumed privacy of his quarters, "it's true, but incomplete. The person I'm looking for... it's Bucky Barnes."
The name registered immediately—James Buchanan Barnes, Steve's best friend from the 1940s, presumed killed in action during a mission against HYDRA. Sara had studied enough history (and accessed enough SHIELD files through JARVIS) to know the significance of this revelation.
"But he died during the war," she said carefully, not questioning Steve's statement but seeking clarification. "At least, that's what all the records indicate."
"That's what I thought too," Steve confirmed, running a hand through his hair in a rare display of agitation. "But I've received intelligence suggesting otherwise. It's complicated and honestly somewhat classified, but the short version is that there's evidence he may have survived the fall and been... taken. Used. Transformed into something else."
Sara absorbed this, her quick mind instantly calculating probabilities and implications. "If he survived, he'd be in his nineties now, like you would be if you hadn't been frozen. Do you think he was preserved somehow as well?"
"It's possible," Steve nodded, looking simultaneously impressed and troubled by her rapid grasp of the situation. "The intelligence indicates he may have been subject to experimentation similar to what created me, but with different aims. If that's true, he could still be out there, potentially not having aged normally over the decades."
"And SHIELD knows about this?" Sara asked, connecting his official relocation with this personal mission.
"Partially," Steve admitted. "Fury has authorized my presence in DC officially for other matters, but he's aware of my personal investigation. Natasha knows as well—she'll be working with me on some of the SHIELD operations. The others have varying levels of information, mostly on a need-to-know basis."
Sara felt a flutter of pride that Steve had chosen to share this with her more fully, a testament to the trust he'd developed in her discretion and judgment.
"Why tell me?" she asked, not challenging his decision but genuinely curious about his reasoning.
Steve's expression softened slightly. "A few reasons. First, practical considerations—if my search intensifies, it might impact our training schedule more significantly than I initially indicated. You deserve to know why."
Sara nodded, appreciating his honesty.
"Second," he continued, "you've earned a level of trust that goes beyond the standard protocol. Your discretion and judgment have been consistently impressive, and I believe you can handle sensitive information appropriately."
"I'm honored," Sara said simply, meaning it.
"And third," Steve finished with a small, somewhat sad smile, "I suppose I wanted someone to know the full truth who wasn't directly involved in the operation. Someone who might understand why this matters so much to me personally, beyond the tactical implications."
The vulnerability in this admission touched Sara deeply. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, was sharing something profoundly personal—not just operational information, but the emotional weight behind it.
"He was your best friend," she said softly. "Family, really. Of course you have to look for him."
Steve nodded, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes at her understanding. "If the situations were reversed, he would tear apart heaven and earth to find me. I can't do any less for him."
"What can I do to help?" Sara asked without hesitation, already mentally cataloging possibilities—research assistance, data analysis, even potential field support if her training continued progressing as planned.
"Just keep training," Steve replied with a smile that held both appreciation and gentle redirection. "Focus on your development, be ready for whatever comes next. And," he added after a brief pause, "maybe keep an eye on things here while I'm gone. The team dynamics, the atmosphere. You have a good sense for when something's off, and you're less... entangled in some of the internal politics than others."
Sara recognized this as both a compliment and a responsibility—Steve was essentially asking her to serve as an unofficial observer, someone whose relative neutrality in team conflicts might provide valuable perspective.
"I can do that," she agreed. "Though I'm hardly unbiased where Tony's concerned."
"Your awareness of your biases is precisely why I trust your judgment," Steve countered. "Just keep me posted on any significant shifts in team dynamics or operational focus. Especially anything that seems... unusual, even by our admittedly unusual standards."
The slight emphasis suggested something specific concerned him, though he didn't elaborate further. Sara filed this away for future reference, another piece in the increasingly complex puzzle of Avengers operations and interpersonal relationships.
"When do you leave?" she asked, returning to more immediate practicalities.
"Friday morning," Steve confirmed. "Initial briefing at SHIELD headquarters that afternoon, then setting up in the provided accommodations. I'll send you secure contact protocols once I'm established there."
"And the others? Do they know you've told me about Bucky?"
"Natasha probably suspects," Steve admitted with a wry smile. "She has an uncanny sense for information flow. Tony's focused on your birthday preparations and his own projects, so he's less likely to notice. The others don't need to know the extent of our conversation."
Sara nodded, understanding the delicate balance of information sharing within the team. Each member operated with different levels of disclosure based on need, trust, and operational requirements—a complex social ecosystem she'd learned to navigate carefully over the months.
"I should let you get back to your studies," Steve said, glancing at something off-screen. "But I wanted to have this conversation before things get hectic with departure preparations."
"I appreciate it," Sara replied sincerely. "And Steve? Good luck finding him. I hope... I hope he's still the person you remember, at least in the ways that matter most."
A shadow crossed Steve's face momentarily, suggesting he'd already considered the possibility that whatever had happened to Bucky might have fundamentally changed him. "Thank you, Sara. That means a lot."
After they said their goodbyes and the call ended, Sara remained at her desk, processing the implications of their conversation. Steve's trust in her judgment and discretion represented yet another shift in how the Avengers perceived her—no longer just a talented trainee but increasingly a colleague, someone whose perspective held value beyond her powers or technical skills.
With her birthday—and whatever the team was planning for it—just a month away, this evolution in her status felt significant, a precursor to whatever official role awaited her. The timing of Steve's departure was unfortunate in that context, but she understood his priorities completely. Some bonds transcended organizational structures or operational timelines—the connection to Bucky represented Steve's last link to his original life, a potential bridge across the decades of loss and displacement.
Her phone chimed with a text notification, pulling her from these reflections.
Natasha [9:45 PM]: Guessing Rogers told you about his DC mission and the Barnes situation. Training tomorrow at 0700 instead of 0800. We need to adjust for his departure.
Sara smiled at the message, unsurprised that Natasha had already deduced the content of her conversation with Steve. The spy's awareness of tower communications was legendary, a combination of remarkable observational skills and what Tony jokingly referred to as "probably actual witchcraft."
Sara [9:46 PM]: Confirmed on both counts. See you at 0700.
Natasha [9:46 PM]: Bring your A-game. We're accelerating certain elements of your training schedule given the timeline.
The reference to "the timeline" sent a small thrill through Sara—another hint at whatever awaited her on her birthday. Though she'd grown accustomed to the veiled references and secretive planning meetings, each new suggestion that something significant approached heightened her anticipation.
Sara [9:47 PM]: Always do. Any specific focus areas I should prepare for?
Natasha [9:48 PM]: Rapid environmental adaptation and multi-target engagement. Wear the specialized training gear Tony delivered last week. The one with the enhanced sensor suite.
Sara glanced at the sleek new training outfit hanging in her closet—a significant upgrade from her previous gear, with integrated biometric monitoring, thermal regulation, and what Tony had cryptically described as "some neat surprises for when you need them." She'd only worn it once so far, during a specialized heat tolerance assessment in Bruce's lab.
Sara [9:49 PM]: Got it. Anything else I should know?
Natasha [9:50 PM]: Just that things are progressing according to schedule. Your performance metrics are hitting all the required benchmarks. Keep focused and trust the process.
Coming from Natasha, this constituted effusive praise and encouragement. Sara felt a surge of pride, the months of intensive training and disciplined power development yielding measurable results that satisfied even the Black Widow's exacting standards.
Sara [9:51 PM]: Will do. Thanks, Nat.
Returning to her physics assignment, Sara found herself working with renewed focus and energy, her mind effortlessly processing complex calculations while a part of her consciousness remained aware of the fire humming beneath her skin—controlled, contained, but ready to emerge at her command. The integration of her academic intelligence with her physical capabilities and power management had become increasingly seamless over time, each aspect enhancing rather than competing with the others.
Whatever lay ahead—whatever the mysterious birthday plans entailed, whatever role she would ultimately assume within the Avengers framework—Sara felt prepared to face it. Not with the brash overconfidence of someone who underestimated challenges, but with the measured readiness of someone who had trained methodically, developed deliberately, and grown under the guidance of the world's most extraordinary team.
A month remained until her sixteenth birthday. A month of continued training, continued growth, continued preparation. A month to polish the skills and abilities that would carry her into whatever future awaited.
Later that night, as she prepared for bed, Sara's phone lit up with another notification—this time, a video call request from Zara. Despite the late hour (later still in California), Sara accepted immediately, her girlfriend's face appearing on screen with the familiar backdrop of her music-filled bedroom.
"Hey you," Zara greeted with a warm smile that still made Sara's heart skip despite the months they'd been officially together. "You look exhausted. Tough training day?"
"Intense," Sara confirmed, settling comfortably against her pillows. "And some unexpected news. Steve's heading to DC for a while, which means schedule adjustments and training modifications."
"The joys of your unconventional education," Zara teased gently. "Normal students just worry about substitute teachers assigning extra homework."
"Nothing about my life has ever been normal," Sara pointed out with a small laugh. "Why start now?"
"Fair point," Zara conceded. "How are you feeling about it? Steve seems like an important mentor for you."
Sara considered this, appreciating as always Zara's ability to sense the emotional undercurrents beneath practical considerations. "I'll miss the regular training sessions," she admitted. "He has a unique perspective that balances out Natasha's more... intense approach. But he'll still be available remotely, and honestly, his personal mission is important. I wouldn't want him to stay just for my training."
"Personal mission?" Zara repeated, picking up on the careful phrasing. "Sounds intriguing."
"Classified intriguing," Sara clarified with an apologetic smile. "One of those 'I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you' situations that come with living in superhero central."
Zara nodded, understanding without resentment the boundaries of what Sara could share. Their relationship had developed within these parameters—Sara being as honest as she could about her unusual living situation and training while necessarily omitting specific details about powers, operations, and Avengers business.
"Speaking of classified," Zara transitioned smoothly, "any hints about the big birthday surprise? You're getting close to the big day now."
"Still completely in the dark," Sara replied, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and frustration. "They're all terrible liars but surprisingly good at keeping this particular secret. All I know is that it's something significant that will apparently 'change everything,' according to Tony's tipsy hint at dinner last week."
"Dramatic," Zara observed with a grin. "Though 'changing everything' could mean anything from 'you're getting a car' to 'we're announcing you as the newest official teen superhero.' Knowing your life, either seems equally possible."
Sara laughed, though the latter suggestion hit closer to her own suspicions than Zara could know. "I'll find out soon enough. Just one more month of mysterious meetings and poorly concealed excitement whenever my birthday gets mentioned."
"And then a week later, I'll be there," Zara reminded her, eyes brightening at the prospect. "Juilliard audition and birthday celebration combined. I still can't believe my parents agreed to let me fly out alone."
"The power of academic opportunities," Sara commented. "My mom says educational advancement is the one argument guaranteed to work with most parents."
They talked for another hour, shifting between topics with the easy rhythm they'd developed—Zara's music compositions, Sara's studies, their respective family dynamics, plans for the summer assuming Zara's Juilliard acceptance. By the time they said goodnight, Sara felt centered again, the day's revelations and adjustments processed and integrated.
As she drifted toward sleep, her thoughts circled back to Steve's mission—the search for a friend lost to time and circumstance, a connection reaching across decades of separation and change. There was something poignantly human about it, a reminder that beneath the shields and suits and superpowers, the Avengers were ultimately driven by the same fundamental needs and attachments as everyone else.
Tomorrow would bring intensified training with Natasha, adjusted protocols to account for Steve's absence, and continued preparation for whatever awaited her on her birthday. But tonight, Sara allowed herself to simply appreciate the complex web of relationships she'd developed—with her mentors, with Zara, with her powers, with herself.
A month remained until everything changed. But change, Sara had learned, was rarely a single moment—it was the culmination of countless smaller shifts and developments, a process already well underway in the person she was becoming.
Whatever birthday surprise awaited, she would face it as she had faced every challenge since the first flame had sparked from her fingertips—with courage, determination, and the knowledge that she was never truly alone in her journey.
In a secure SHIELD facility in Washington DC, Steve Rogers unpacked minimal belongings in his new temporary quarters, a file folder open on the desk containing the fragmented intelligence that had brought him here—grainy surveillance photos, redacted mission reports, whispered rumors of a ghost operative with a metal arm and deadly efficiency.
The Winter Soldier, some called him. But to Steve, he would always be Bucky first—the friend who had stood beside him when he had nothing, the brother who had followed him into war, the man who had fallen from a train into what should have been certain death but somehow, impossibly, might still exist.
As he pinned the clearest available image to a corkboard—a blurred profile shot that nonetheless stirred recognition deep in his soul—Steve thought briefly of Sara and the others back in New York. Of the training schedule disrupted, the birthday preparations he might miss, the team dynamics left unmonitored in his absence.
But some quests transcended organizational obligations. Some connections demanded pursuit regardless of timing or convenience. Some loyalties ran deeper than even the most solemn new commitments.
"I'm coming for you, Buck," he murmured to the indistinct image. "Whatever's happened, whatever they've done to you—I'm bringing you home."
A month until Sara's transition. A month that might change everything for her future as a hero.
But for Steve, the past had suddenly reopened—a wound and an opportunity simultaneously, a chance to recover what had been lost and perhaps, in saving his oldest friend, find more complete healing for himself as well.
Two missions, two timelines, two futures unfolding in parallel. The Avengers moving forward into new configurations while Steve reached back to recover what time and HYDRA had stolen.
And in New York, Sara slept peacefully, unaware of how these converging paths would eventually reshape not just her life but the entire world of heroes and powers and responsibilities she was preparing to officially join.