‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧

the butterfly effect
part one, the winter soldier
prologue, kopiya

‧ ‧ ‧ ‧ ‧

        1989 WAS A SUBSTANTIAL year for many reasons. It was the year George H W Bush was inaugurated as President; the year of the first successful liver transplant; the year Bobby Brown topped the charts with My Prerogative; the year of Die Hard, Beetlejuice; the year the Berlin Wall fell; the year of Quinn McCormick's 25th birthday; the last year of her life.

A golden glow of morning sunlight lit the airfield before her, a light breeze accompanying it; it would have been tranquil if not for the deafening sounds of jet engines taking off and landing, but that was the sound that calmed her most. It reminded her that she was where she belonged.

Her aviator sunglasses rested gently on the bridge of her nose as she leaned against the wall of one the plane shelters, watching a couple of young airmen ready the plane for flying: Asis.

A soft meowing noise and the feeling of something furry winding its way around her legs caught her attention and caused her to spot the culprit; a ginger cat.

"Oh, so we're friends now, are we?" Quinn mused, arching a brow at the animal who'd always seemed to have a love-hate relationship with her.

With a soft chuckle, the pilot sank down to Goose's level and tentatively stroked the top of her head, as she purred loudly.

Perhaps, in hindsight, the cat was being so nice because it knew what would happen to her around fifteen minutes after this interaction.

"I hate to break it to you, Q, but Tom Cruise still pulls off aviators better than you."

Squinting a little as the sun caught her eyes over the rim of the glasses in question, Quinn looked up, her attention having been diverted from the cat now sprawled out at her feet, and was greeted with the trademark smirk of her friend, who proudly sported her own pair of aviators.

"Speak for yourself, Janis Joplin." The auburn haired girl retorted as she rose up to her normal height where Carol stood just an inch taller.

The blonde let out a light chuckle at the response, shifting her gaze across the air field, soaking in the same atmosphere Quinn had done mere moments previously.

"It's a nice day for it." Quinn quipped light-hearted, despite Carol wearing a brave face and her drive for adventure, there was a sense of apprehension that hung about her.

"Yeah." She gave her a small smile.

"Good luck, Carol." Quinn said earnestly, placing her hand on her shoulder and moving herself around the front of her friend in order to embrace her.

With a gentle sigh and a small chuckle, Carol's apprehension ceased for a moment as she hugged the McCormick tightly.

"Thanks, First Lieutenant."

Quinn couldn't help but chuckle along with her friend at the mention of the promotion she'd been awarded a week prior.

"Don't wear it out." She told the blonde in mock sincerity, as the two of them grinned at one another.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Carol looked over her shoulder at Asis before looking back at to the auburn haired girl with a tight-lipped smile.

"Well, I better get over there." She sighed, nudging her head in that direction.

A loud purr caught Quinn's attention and caused her to let out a gasp of faux betrayal upon seeing that Goose had deserted her for Carol, and was now looping around her ankles.

"You better." Quinn told the blonde, shaking her head at the cat and backing away to turn the corner with a small wave.

Despite the weight of goodbye that hung on her shoulders, Quinn walked with some purpose and a slight spring in her step, as she made her way along the edge of the shelter in the light wind towards another familiar figure who stood spectating the planes flying in the sky.

She noticed the woman approaching when her walk turned into a small jog. Quinn reached her side and cast her gaze skyward, spectating the vapour trails left by each aircraft make complex patterns on the blue canvas.

"You said bye?" Maria hummed, neither of the two of them tearing their gazes from the sky.

"Uh-huh."

"Fancy coming over and helping me make a pumpkin pie?" She said abruptly, her gaze now landing on Quinn with an arched brow.

The pilot let out a light laugh at the sudden change in her manner, which she joined in with soon enough as the two of them began walking together in the direction of the parking lot.

"Not satisfied with your workload here, are you?" Quinn quipped with a grin, at Maria simply rolled her eyes. "Why a pumpkin pie? It's July."

"I made a promise that I couldn't find a way out of. Please help me."

Quinn let out another laughed, knowing that Maria's daughter, Monica had no doubt backed her mother into a situation she couldn't say no to.

"As tempting as that sounds, I have to go meet my old man." The auburn girl informed her friend, feeling torn between relief, that came from missing out on the chaos she'd imagined baking a pumpkin pie with Monica Rambeau would entail, and the dread of sitting through a long meeting with her father and all his S.H.I.E.L.D officials. "He's asked for my help. Something to do with reassuring Stark that his investment in P.E.G.A.S.U.S. is worthwhile." She explained to Maria before quickly adding, "But do give my love to Monica."

Maria remained frozen to the spot and Quinn jogged on towards the parking lot, the voice of her friend following her as she pressed on.

"McCormick, my daughter is not going to accept love over pumpkin pie!"

"Tell her I'll get her a puppy or some shit!" I called back, tossing my car keys in the air to entertain herself before sparing Monica a wave. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow!" The mature Rambeau responded with a laugh.

And that was the only time Quinn McCormick had ever lied to Maria Rambeau, and had done so without even knowing it.

***

THE TUNE OF KENNY Loggins' Dangerzone echoed through the parking garage accompanied by the jangling of car keys, as Quinn whistler on her way towards her car.

She spared a quick glance at her watch, she was running behind but she was fairly sure she could work out some kind of excuse that her father would accept for her lateness.

In her concentration looking upon the clock face, she failed to notice the presence of another person with whom she quickly collided causing her to let out a surprised grunt.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" She gushed, after taking a step back and shooting the person an apologetic smile.

She'd realised very quickly after colliding with him that she was addressing a well-built man, dressed in all black. He'd barely budged upon colliding with her, she wasn't sure there was much difference between him and brick wall judging by his build and noticeable lack of charisma.

"I'm looking for Quinn McCormick." He stated in disregard of her apology, his words laced in a thick accent Quinn thought she could place as perhaps Eastern European.

"Yeah, that'd be me." She answered him without much thought as to the consequences.

"Daughter of Roger McCormick?"

"Yes, is there something you need to—?" She had arched her brow and straightened up slightly as the stranger cut her off.

"Current leader of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Growing tired of the interrogation, Quinn readjusted her grip on her keys and made a start in the direction of her car.

"I'm sorry but I actually have to be somewhere I need to be—"

"Do you?"

She stopped in her tracks but that action had much less to do with his words and far more to do with the familiar sound of a gun clicking. Clenching her jaw, she turned back around, raising her hands tentatively in surrender.

"What do you want?"

The man reached up to his ear and muttered something in a foreign language, all the while keeping his weapon drawn and fixed upon Quinn.

"Look, I'll cooperate. Just put down the gun." She attempted to reason, her nostrils flaring as she raised her hands higher.

"Oh, this?" The man cocked to his head to the side. "This is not a gun."

Quinn's eyebrows furrowed in confusion just as the deafening sound of screeching tyres echoed through the parking garage.

She caught sight of a black car tearing around the corner and heading straight towards them. However, before she could fathom shouting for help, she felt everything around her begin to numb and slow, her eyes catching sight of the man before her whose fingers had pulled the trigger of her weapon, as she felt herself slump to the ground; the world fading the black.

***

        IT WAS COLD AND SHE knew nothing, only that she was terrified. Her mind felt foggy as the tight grips on her arms pulled her forward from the chamber.

      "Rise and shine, Kopiya."

       She heard the words but didn't see who spoke them, she wasn't even sure how she understood them. Her chest was tight as she tried to remember how to breathe; why couldn't remember how to? Why couldn't she remember anyhing?

       "Are you ready for the fight?"

       "Yes."

        The words that left her mouth weren't own even though she'd been the one to speak them. It had felt like a reflex, spoken in a tongue she didn't know.

      Her eyes darted frantically around her surrounding but everything seemed the same; the same cold, metal flooring and walls, like the prison. She certainly felt like a prisoner.

       She could sense a door open by the faintest movement of air, and the grip on her arms loosened. Her hands which had been bound behind her were freed, and her immediate instinct was to move as far into the room and away from the people as possible.

        As her breath came back to her, she let herself take in the surroundings, there was a vague familiar about it. Mirrors lined the walls floor to ceiling, she kept her gaze firmly on the floor, knowing whatever reflection she saw looking back her she wouldn't recognise.

       "No! I won't hurt her!"

      She felt herself start at the sound of the objecting screams from beyond the doorway she'd just entered.

       Everything seemed to come into clarity as he was thrust into the room and the door sealed tightly shut behind him.

      He let out an anguished cry as he rose to his feet and threw a punch at the door to no avail.

       She knew what came next. An controlled exhale left her as she felt a rush course through her body — she might have mistook it for adrenaline once before, but she knew definitely by the wisps of purple energy that emerged from her palms.

       She raised her gaze to look at him. He had remained on the far side of the room, as far away from her as he could be, his gaze still facing the wall.

       He turned eventually, she felt as though she must have willed him to. Her gaze was hard as it met his which bore the weight of years and years of this treatment, a thousand helpless apologies in one glance.

       An unspoken understanding passed between them: she wouldn't let him hurt her.

       She was stronger this time, she must be. It would explain why the first thing they threw her into would be a fight.

        "Longing."

         He pressed his hands to his ears upon hearing the word that echoed into the room from beyond its mirrored walls.

        "Rusted."

         A frustrated scream emerged from his lips as Quinn winded at the sight, her jaw clenching as she cast a fleeting glance at one of the mirrors, wondering just how many spectators had come to see them this time.

       "Seventeen. Daybreak. Furnace. Nine."

       The screams only became louder as he sank to the floor, trying to contain whatever pain hearing the words brought to him. She had to resist every urge that told her to run to his aid — that would end well for no one.

       "Benign. Homecoming. One."

       She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins in anticipation mix with whatever strange power coexisted within her — she could feel it crackle in her palm, running along her fingers like sparks of electricity.

        "Freightcar."

        Silence fell. Nothing except his heavy breathing could be heard in the room as the Soldier came to the surface.

       "Good morning Soldier."

       "Ready to comply."

       The Solider slowly rose to his feet as he engaged with his commands from beyond the mirror, his head hung low as he flexed the palm of the metal arm attached to his left side.

       "Kill her."

      With no hesitation, the Solider's gaze rose from the floor and settled itself upon its target, where she stared back with a hard, challenging gaze.

       He started towards her in determination, and suddenly everything felt hazy again.

        It all began to blur. She felt power, she could feel his strength and allowed herself to harness it to fuel her own defence. Any punch he threw, she used his own reflexes to dodge, throwing her own back in a more calculated manner — he was effectively fighting a clone of himself.

       She felt pain of his metal fist colliding with her ribs, and her subsequent fall to floor. She could feel herself get back up again, only to persistently fight the same cycle once more.

       She didn't know how much time passed in their combat; neither of them would tire, the struggle could be endless. One would always have to concede.

       She felt herself hit the floor again, and the feeling of cool metal hands wrapping themselves around her throat and the Solider sought to see through his mission to its end.

      Her haze broke in her sudden urge for oxygen, her eyes boring in the grey, merciless orbs of her attacker looking for something, anything reminiscent of who he was.

        "Remember me." She told him in stern yet strangled whisper as she fought a hand free and raised it to his cheek.

         She felt a faint crackle of power in her palm as she continued to stare up into his unchanging eyes, the edges of her vision blurring as his hands tightening.

        "I'm sorry."

        She gasped for a breath before squinting her eyes shut, and closing her palms in one swift movement, challenging all the power that had coursed through her body into one large blast of energy that sent the Soldier crashing towards the other end of the room.

        She waited a moment before rising up, bringing her gaze to find him, slumped in the corner.

      She shook out the tightness of her palms, trying to ignore the pain around her neck and crawled to her feet in his direction, knowing she'd have mere seconds before the room was flooded with people to separate them.

        Breathing heavily, she collapsed on her knees in front of him, reaching out to him as he began to stir.

       "Kopiya." He muttered, his eyes wide in alarm as they landed on her, no doubt analysing the wounds that littered her face.

      "I'm sorry." She whispered, placing a hand on his cheek, which he hesitantly reached up to hold.

       However, before his hand could reach hers, a familiar grip settled itself back on her arms and she felt herself being pulled away from him.

     She allowed no struggle to overwhelm her as they dragged her from the room and out of sight, she simply allowed herself to be carried away, silently praying to be put back to sleep.

       But instead the sound of screams flooded her brain, the feeling of bounds being tied and cool metal table beneath her. She felt burning in her veins, on her skin and in the throat as her own screams tore through her, persisting on me on, obscuring every other sense.

       She saw nothing once more except the lifeless metal of this prison and a piercing white light that blinded her yet she couldn't seem to shield her eyes from it. She was lifeless, immobile; her whole body felt like it was on fire and the only constant was the screams.

        His screams.

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
no, YOU stayed up
until 2am writing
because your inspo
was at an all time high

anyway, hope you
enjoyed this first
instalment. 2022
is the year of bucky
and quinn, folks x