Hidden

Sometimes, when I was still and things were quiet, I would think of Pepper. I would remember her strawberry blonde hair and smooth pale skin. I would remember her sweet sandalwood scent and kind eyes.

It was during those moments that the grief would hit, pummelling the sweet memories into pain and longing. My breath would catch and my eyes would mist up, and -- Jesus fucking Christ -- I couldn’t breathe. How could she be gone? How was it possible I’d never get to see her again?

My friend. My --

She had taught me so much. She had taught me how to love. She had loved me.

I was very young when I first realised there was something fundamentally different about me. At first I couldn’t understand why the other kids didn’t want me to play with them, especially when they so readily accepted one another. I grew up believing there was something wrong with me -- that I was wrong -- and it was my fault they treated me so differently.

I was five when I learned that the reason they didn’t want me around was because I was omegan. At the time, as far as I could tell, the only difference between us was our scents. Why would something so small matter to anyone?

“Omegas don’t play with alphas, my sweet,” my mother told me, when I kept pestering her.

“But why?”

“Because that’s the way it is. It’s the way it’s always been.”

Which even back then sounded like utter bullshit.

So I questioned things --I questioned everything, often and loudly. I wanted to know why I couldn’t go out and play like the other children. I demanded the right to learn and travel and be a goddamn human being. My plumbing didn’t make me a lesser person. Being able to have a kid didn’t make me weak or stupid.

My ideals frightened my mom. She was so deeply indoctrinated that questioning anything was unthinkable. When I was a little older I began to realise that the sadness that perpetually accompanied her was due to a lifetime of oppression and abuse. Yet despite all of the terrible things she experienced she still expected me to follow in her footsteps. She didn’t want me to question the system. The very idea terrified her.

The alphas certainly seemed happy with the status quo -- even the little ones walked around with an unearned air of superiority and self-importance. As we grew older the alphas became louder and more headstrong. The few omegas living on our estate became withdrawn and timid. Some of them even started to wear the old fashioned veils my grandmother used to wear. Apparently they were coming back into fashion, my mom told me one evening when she passed me a prettily wrapped package.

Fuck. That.

I refused to conform. I had a mind and I had plans. None of those plans included a life of sitting pretty and being silent. Luckily we were very rich and I was indulged, for the most part. My dad wasn’t around much but he understood that, omega or not, I had enough of his intellect that leaving me unoccupied and bored would likely end with something being blown up. So I received schooling way past the age of most omegas. I was taught how to ride a bike and drive a car. I could shoot a gun and fix engines, climb trees and exercise freely. My absolute favorite thing to do was build things. I could spend days lost to my lab, tinkering and building as I helped to build a better future. It was everything I could ask for and more than most omegas could ever dream of. I was lucky and happy. It was pretty cool, if a little lonely.

And then Pepper came into my life...

“Tony?” A hand waved in front of my face, bringing me back to here and now. I realised how close Bucky was standing and flinched away violently. I was only a little surprised when he immediately backed off. “You OK?”

“Daydreaming,” I admitted, running my fingers through my hair and cringing a little at the crusted filth I encountered. I met Bucky’s kind gaze and couldn’t help but file that look away for future reference. “So what’s on the cards for today, Buck?”

“Are you sure you’re OK?” he sniffed delicately, which was dangerously close to being hella rude. Which really was laughable considering they were still in the process of kidnapping me, but still. “I said I’m fine. Jesus, what do you want from me? A goddamn doctors certificate!”

He wisely backed off. “Once we’ve finished packing up we’re going to head out,” he said, holding his hand out with a quirked eyebrow. He seemed a little surprised when I let him help me to my feet. “We should be back at the base by tomorrow evening.”

I purposefully ducked my head and pushed scared, vulnerable, alone at him. As suspected he deflated a little, making himself look smaller and less threatening. “Hey, it’s OK” he soothed. “You don’t need to be scared. No one's going to hurt you.”

“Of course they are,” I said, showing him my throat as I purposefully didn’t look at him. Oh yeah, old Buck was crushing hard. “You’re not taking me back there out of the goodness of your hearts.”

“What if I said to you that that was exactly what we were doing?”

“I would say I didn’t believe you,” I said truthfully. “No ones does anything without something in return.”

“It’s time to go,” Steve said, stepping beside Bucky with easy familiarity. “You guys ready?”

“Not like I’ve got anywhere else to be,” I said, jumping off the hood of Bucky’s car before I was physically moved. Somehow, walking to my own death felt better than being dragged. “We were just talking about how psyched we are to almost be home.”

“Tony -” Steve began, reaching out his hand.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snarled, jumping out of his reach. “You hear me asshole? Keep your hands to yourself before I figure out a way to hack them off and insert them up your -”

“OK, that’s enough,” Bucky said quickly, stepping towards me. “You don’t want us to touch you. Fine. Get in the car.”

“Fine!” I snapped, walking around to the passenger side and climbing inside. I was there for less than thirty seconds when I heard Buck swear and hastily follow me. I openly smirked at him. “Scared I’m going to leave you?” I asked sweetly.

“Didn’t take you long to hot-wire the car last time,” he grumbled, starting the engine.

“Yeah, I’m pretty good with engines,” which was the understatement of the century. “You guys got electricity where we’re going?”

“A little,” he answered, which was surprising. “We use generators, but they’re pretty old. We don’t like to overexert them.”

“You got a mechanic?”

He pulled off, following behind Steve. I noticed he did that lot.

“We did, but she died a while back. Her apprentice was still pretty green and we haven’t been able to find a replacement yet,” he gave Tony a mock-sly look. “You thinking of applying for the job.

I shrugged. “Depends on whether I’m allowed to leave the bedroom or not.”

Bucky’s eyes turned back to the road.

“That’s why you’re taking me back, right? To be some assholes baby-maker? To lie back and think of England and push out some kids for the good of mankind…”

“It’s not going to be like that,” Bucky said softly, his shoulder hunched up. “No one is going to force you, Tony. We just need you to stay with us. We need people.”

“And I know of one surefire way to get them,” I grumbled.