You turn up at Avengers Tower at sixteen, holding her dead mothers letter and a toddler a social worker standing beside you, two whole lives in a single suitcase. You’re sixteen with a two year old son, having had him at fourteen, your mother had just passed from an illness, she left you a letter with your biological father’s name and address. (Bucky Barnes, Avengers Tower). The letter explains that they have no idea you exist but this is the only option as they’re your last living relative.
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@coolioThe Manhattan skyline loomed grey against a November drizzle. A yellow cab pulled up to the gleaming monolith of Avengers Tower, its glass facade reflecting the rain-slicked streets.
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