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amcgovern17 · 8 days ago

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Excerpt from Chapter 1 of To the Heart of It

From AO3 by amcgovern17

Bucky/Reader Soulmate AU

(Work in progress! 15/30 chapters posted. Currently 60,000 words)

(Additional tags and info at the bottom ☺️)

December 5, 2018 - Part I

With a loud sigh, you turned off the alarm on your phone and stood up from your bed, shoving papers and your textbook into your bag. You’d already pressed snooze three times. Any more and you would for sure be late.

Your lecture started at 10, which meant you had to be on the subway by 9 if you wanted any chance of making it on time. Laptop, keys, coffee, ID badge… you ran through your checklist, reaching to grab your coffee mug–the one with the Schrödinger’s cat joke-from the counter before heading out the door. You really should buy a travel mug. You always got weird looks from people on the subway, scooching slightly away from you as if waiting for you to spill hot coffee all over them. More space for me, you thought happily.

You grabbed your coat and scarf and locked up your apartment, making your way down three flights of stairs. I need to find a better place to live, you sighed. The super had been promising for months that he would get the elevator fixed and it hadn’t happened yet. While that had been wonderful for your glutes, you were tired of this shithole. Once I get this job, I can look. Finally make enough money so I don’t have to live in this shoebox. You mentally added it to the never ending to do list.

As a graduate assistant in the Columbia University physics department, you were lucky enough to have tuition assistance, but that meant you had to teach three classes a semester of an undergrad physics course. Boring, but generally easy. Most of the students were there to finish out their science requirements, but occasionally you had a few kids actually interested in pursuing physics. Kids, you laughed to yourself. They’re not that much younger than you, dumbass.

You had at least one more year before you completed your PhD, having started your college career a little later than most. You hadn’t been able to afford it early on; the money your adoptive mom had left when she died had not quite been enough. So after high school, you worked long hours at the mechanic shop in town, skipping out on vacations, working holidays, and saving every penny you could manage.

You’d been able to enroll in your undergrad program at 21 at the community college, majoring in engineering, and managed to finish in three years. You were interested in science, the mechanics of how things worked and the theory behind it. Towards the end of undergrad, after attending a guest lecture from a highly regarded physics professor, your interests narrowed.

Your senior thesis project on engineering computations in quantum superposition had been what got you into Columbia, catching the eyes of a few professors. They’d offered you the assistantship while you got your masters, and you’d done so well in it that you kept it through to your doctoral program.

Today you had an interview at Hammer Industries. You hadn’t heard great things about working there, but a job was a job. Even though it was just a receptionist position, you hoped it would be a way to get your foot into the door of the professional world once you graduated. Plus I’ll have my silly little social media side gig, you smiled to yourself as you walked out of your apartment and onto the street, taking the quickest path to the 116th Street–Columbia University subway station and glancing at your watch. Shit, you thought. You were going to be cutting it close. Please make it, please make it.

You reached the platform just in time to slide into the car before the doors closed, finding a decent corner to lean into for the ride. You pulled out your phone while you rode, wanting to post the picture of your study material from earlier to your Instagram stories. You had been posting your graduate physics journey for the last few years and actually had a pretty decent following. You tried to post and interact regularly, putting out content explaining physics in easier terms, but also making the graduate school process as transparent as possible so people could know what to expect. The tiny bit of income you’d earned through it was unexpected (and definitely not enough to live off of), but welcomed.

You pulled up the photo of all your scattered notes, cropping out most of your bed and double checking that there was nothing fully identifiable in the picture. You loved your followers, but you weren’t looking to get a stalker, thank you very much. It was the end of the semester and every deadline, exam, paper, and project was looming over you, so you thought it fitting to add the text ‘My brain is exploding.’

Posted. Done. One more thing off the to do list. You held your coffee mug away from you slightly, knowing the next bend was bumpy and you needed to be careful. You tucked your phone carefully into your pocket, and stood straight, ready to join the herd of people getting off the subway and making their way up the stairs to the streets. Thankfully, the physics building wasn’t too far from the station. I might just have enough time to refill my coffee, you thought happily. Hopefully there isn’t a huge line.

You carefully crossed the street and power walked through the crowds of students milling about, walking into one of the many on-campus coffee shops.

“Hey Professor!” you heard as you waited in line, turning to see who was greeting you. Oh, Peter Parker, you thought, placing his face. From last semester’s UN1202 Physics class, you reminded yourself.

“Mr. Parker, I’m not a professor,” you corrected, smiling at him anyway.

“Yet,” he grinned. “You’re fantastic at it, there’s no way the department doesn’t hire you once you graduate. Hey, did you see they released the lineup for the next symposium?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t checked my email yet today.” You wondered if it would be anything interesting this year. You’d skipped out the last two years because there had been too much focus on string theory for you to justify paying the ticket price and living off of cup ramen for a week. You were hoping this new job would give you just enough extra that you could afford to do things like that more regularly.

You reached the front of the line and greeted the barista, who was already reaching for your mug, knowing exactly what your order was. You swiped your card and dropped a dollar into the tip jar.

“I’m really excited to hear Rovelli. He doesn’t usually do these kinds of presentations anymore. What you said about how he theorized the faster than light possibilities for white holes in class last semester…” Peter whistled. You stood to the side, waiting to pick up your coffee and watched as Peter ordered something with a horrible caffeine to sugar ratio.

“I’m glad to know someone was listening,” you laughed. Even though you taught a freshman level introductory physics class, you often tried to go past some of the basics just to inspire students. Let them know how interesting physics could be beyond the basics of momentum and force and old white men like Issac Newton. “How are your courses this semester, Mr. Parker?”

“Oh, they’re pretty great. It’s been a lot of work balancing a full schedule with my internship and sp…special interests.” You quirked your eyebrow, not sure you wanted to ask about a college student’s special interests. “Hey, I can get tickets for all the symposiums from my internship, would you want to go with me?” Peter asked.

Is he asking me out? you thought, alarmed. “Oh, I…”

The shock must have shown on your face, because horror dawned on Peter’s. “Oh, no. Not like that, just as a friend. Definitely not a date.” Thank god. “I mean, not that you aren’t dateable, just…I have a girlfriend. And you’re my professor. Or were…” he stammered.

“Parker, breathe. It’s okay, I understand,” you laughed. “That would honestly be great. I haven’t really had the extra cash to get tickets to the last few events,” you trailed off, realizing that was probably more information than you should share.

“That’s a shame, really! It would be great content for your quantum questions account!”

“Oh, you know about…” your face scrunched in surprise.

“I figured it out last semester. You always came in with the same coffee that was posted. Sorry, I didn’t realize you…” Peter rubbed the back of his head.

“No, no. It’s fine. Just don’t blast it around please,” you asked, trusting Peter wasn’t going to dox you.

“Hey, here’s my number. I’ll text you about the tickets. I don’t really check my school email a lot,” Peter grinned sheepishly. He held out his Stark Phone towards your phone, and his contact card appeared on your screen.

Fancy, you thought, wondering how a college student could afford a top of the line smartphone. Perks of the internship, I guess.

As the barista handed you back your now-full mug and Peter his drink, you turned to Peter to say goodbye. You had less than 10 minutes now to make it to the lecture hall.

“Well, Mr. Parker, I hope you have a good day,” you said.

“It’s Peter, and thanks! You too Professor, got to run. I’ve got chem lab in five,” he joked. You smiled, watching him take off in the opposite direction, and made your way quickly into Pupin Hall and towards the classroom. Hopefully we can finish up the section on atomic physics today and start early on preparations for the final exam. I need to make sure I’m out of here by 11:30 if I want to get to Manhattan for the interview on time.

You walked through the doors at 9:58, and headed straight to the podium.

“Good morning, scientists, who can tell me the difference between fission and fusion?”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

God, I’m going to be so late. Not a good first impression for an interview, dummy. You finished wiping up as much coffee as you could, throwing the paper towels into a nearby trash can. You had been answering a few questions from students after class when your phone buzzed. You’d reached back distractedly to grab it and knocked over the iced coffee that one of the students had brought to you (lovely girl, she deserves an A+ , you thought jokingly).

You had watched it fall, unable to stop it. Then you sighed as you took in the mess, finishing packing your bag and then snapping a picture before you went to clean it up. You could hear your mom’s voice in your head now, fussing at you for always taking pictures of everything. You had always argued back that you liked documenting things, especially since you hadn’t known anything about the first year or so of your life. You smiled at the memories. Forgetting why you’d reached for your phone in the first place, you pocketed it and knelt down to clean.

“Can I please turn in that report still? My grandmother died, I couldn’t write it because of the funeral, and…” one of your students was saying, having run up at the last minute while you were wiping up coffee.

“Mr. Davis, please. Save it. You’ve had 5 grandmothers die this semester if my count is correct.” You shot him a look. At least he has the decency to look abashed. “The deadline for makeup work is midnight tonight. Get it done.”

“Thank you! I won’t let you down!” he exclaimed as he ran off.

Doubtful, you thought. Unfortunately, that was the reality of most semesters. There were always students who didn’t care to do the work until the last minute. But you refused to have to grade late work, determined that your winter break would be a true break. You needed it every year. So your makeup work deadline was set in stone.

You grabbed your things and made a quick walk to your office to print your resume. I really need to stop waiting until the last minute to do things like this, you thought.

You glanced at your watch and sighed, turning back to the doors to head out instead of to your office. It was at least a 5 minute walk to the subway station, which meant you would miss it. Which meant you’d likely be late for the interview. Fucking great.

“Could this day get any worse?” you muttered to yourself as you walked out of the building, hoping they would accept a digital copy of your resume. You pulled out your phone to email the document to the person you’d set up the interview with, and saw several notifications on your phone that you had missed.

Well, fuck, you thought, heart dropping. You squinted up at the sky. Are those…planes? You could see things zooming all over. People were stopped everywhere just like you, looking up and trying to figure out what the things were.

That’s…people? Aliens? Spaceships. Shit. That can’t be good, you thought, realizing too late what you were seeing. One of the flying motorcycle-like vehicles zoomed past, flying very low to the street. What looked like a laser (can’t be, can it?) shot from the front, hitting a taxi which promptly exploded into flames.

People were screaming now, and scattering. Fuck, fuck, shit, came your frantic thoughts. You ran down the steps and pressed yourself up against the wall of the building, trying to avoid getting trampled. You watched in horror as more of the creatures descended. A couple of them landed, pointing their weapons at the people running. They were shouting something, but you couldn’t understand.

You turned the corner and looked toward the subway entrance. Can I make it… there were dozens of people running everywhere. Two of the attackers were flying in circles low to the ground around a group of what looked like students. Run! Oh my god, get out . You were frozen, eyes wide and trying to figure out if you could help. Without getting myself killed in the process.

An explosion rocked the ground, and you crouched down, covering your head with your arms and squeezing your eyes tight. There goes the coffee shop, you thought, seeing smoke coming from down the block. You heard more gunshots, looking up to figure out where they were coming from; to figure out which direction to run, what might be safest.

You felt a buzzing under your skin, which you assumed was adrenaline, and a sudden pull to look to your left. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it: the Avengers had arrived.

Captain America had thrown his shield at one of the aliens, who dropped to the ground. Its friend turned on the Captain, firing its weapon. He managed to duck behind his shield, but the– is that actually a laser beam? Woah, how’d they…no, shut up brain. Not the time! You looked ahead, deciding that up the road toward the Avengers would be safer. Maybe you could get behind them, could get…

Iron Man landed not fifty feet away from you, bringing a group of flying assailants after him. You ducked again, trying to make yourself as small as possible, scraping your elbow against the side of the building. You hissed and grabbed your arm, feeling the rip in your shirt sleeve, pulling your hand back and seeing bright red. Shit. You must’ve scraped half your skin off.

“Get out of here,” Iron Man yelled back towards you. Don’t need to tell me twice, you thought frantically, darting forward across the sidewalk. Your instincts told you to head that way. There was more fighting ahead in front of the now destroyed coffee shop. You ran over the broken glass, hoping nothing would make it through your shoes. Black Widow and the Winter Soldier appeared through the smoke, followed by four of the creatures. Up close, you could see the alien better. A tall, grey, reptilian thing… are those the things that attacked in the Battle of New York? The Cthulhu? The Chitauri? The Chipotle? I wonder if they eat space burritos…

There were a few people trying to sneak out of the destroyed coffee shop, watching the Chitauri fighting Black Widow and the Winter Soldier. You looked back behind you to see if it was clear, then hurriedly waved the people out of the building. “This way, come on!” you pointed towards the alley, hoping the courtyard would be safer than the streets.

As the people ran past you, you saw one of the Chitauri look your way, its attention drawn by all the noise or the movement. You weren’t entirely sure what kind of senses they had. Oh no, no, no you don’t. Before you put much thought to it, you darted back up the road, away from the people you’d just gotten out. Why you felt you deserved to be the distraction, you couldn’t tell.

You heard another explosion from behind, far enough away that you didn’t feel it thankfully. You scrambled through the debris in front of you, looking for the next safe spot. There, you thought, seeing the doors into the mathematics building. You’d made it a few yards when you felt a body slam into yours, knocking you to the ground. You tried to roll into the fall, but braced too much with your arm. You let out a yell as you felt your wrist jam and your shoulder take the brunt of the impact, and felt your head hit the ground right after. Ow, you thought as your vision blurred. Before you could push yourself up, something pulled you up by your shirt. You turned just enough to see the alien’s ugly face as it roared at you.

“Ugh, fuck! Brush your teeth or something, dude!” you grimaced as you tried to squirm out of its grip, kicking at its torso. The Chitauri warrior growled, then reached its other hand around your neck and lifted you up higher. You clawed at its scaly hand, trying to keep it from choking you.

Black dots started swirling in your vision. I have to get out…can’t breathe… The buzzing under your skin intensified, and you wondered briefly if that’s what it felt like when you didn’t get enough oxygen to your brain. You landed a good kick, hearing the creature grunt in pain just as you saw a metal arm wrap around its neck and twist. You heard a sickening crunch and felt your body drop to the ground when the alien’s grip loosened. You looked up at the Winter Soldier pulling a knife out of the alien’s back. He looked over at you, his blue-grey eyes piercing through you, then scanned behind you looking for danger. Jesus dude, way to make killing aliens look good, your addled brain thought. The buzzing feeling was starting to be hard to ignore, a loud hum in your head now, an insistence that you didn’t understand. I wonder if I have a concussion.

The Soldier stepped over the alien, his metal hand grabbing you under your uninjured shoulder and lifting you up. The buzzing stopped immediately. You barely gained your footing as he pulled you over to the side of the building.

“That way,” he nodded behind you and you glanced at where he was looking. “Go.”

You weren’t going to argue, really. But the buzzing was back, like a pull this time. As you turned back to thank him, you saw a Chitarui weapon swing toward him and you acted. All you could hear was that hum; something in your body screaming at you to protect him, to save him, to get him out of the way. You lurched forward and powered into the Soldier, tackling him around the middle, using your entire body strength to take him off balance and knock him back. Away from the laser, which had been aimed right between where the two of you had been standing. Safe, your body hummed.

The only reason you were able to knock him back was your unexpected move, but he must have quickly realized what you were doing. Mid fall, he twisted your bodies so that he would take the brunt of the falling debris as the explosion wracked the building you were next to. His eyes were as wide as yours as you both fell to the ground, and you could see the flecks of blue hidden within the grey. You could feel the heat of the fire on your skin, which felt like it was being sandblasted. You could feel his arms through his tac suit wrapped tightly around you, the clear difference between the flesh and the metal.

Safe, you thought again. You felt the wind knocked out of your body as your back made contact with the ground with the Soldier's full weight on top of you. You felt his breath on your face as he grunted through the debris impacts.

Your focus was immediately drawn to behind the Soldier’s head. He must have seen the horror on your face as chunks of the building rained down on you. He tried to wrap his metal arm around your head to protect you, but he could only do so much. A chunk of concrete grazed the side of your head and the world went black.