Chapter Text
"That's it. This guy is the biggest douchebag in the entire universe."
Sam missed the glare Thor threw his way as he stopped in front of the east wall scanning the area.
"Thought that title was yours, Wilson." Bucky grinned smugly at Sam before the man flipped him off.
"That's enough you two. As much as we're entertained by your love spats, try to dial it back on account of the kid. It's only been three months and she's gonna need more time to warm up to you two." Tony directed his shaded eyes at you as you scribbled in your notepad. You've grown somewhat accustomed to the love/hate relationship between Barnes and Wilson. In the first week, you ignored it. But when Sam started roping you in on the ridiculous macho man contests they had from time to time, you always kept an ear open for your cue to move away from the pair.
"Well...green is definitely his colour." Steve studied the emerald calling card in between his thumb and index finger, left in it's current prominent position standing upright in an ironically cheap acrylic display case in the vault. The jester donning the ridiculous green get up in a ridiculous playful stance on the card taunted him.
It was the 2nd one.
The first was found at City Bank, home to the savings and shares of thousands of residents in the area. It took them a while to realise half of the safety deposit boxes were completely empty. Thankfully, the burglars only plundered the cash, leaving behind the valuable items customers trusted with the renowned bank in their metal containers. They almost fired their security guard, a robust young gentleman, who they thought let the culprits slip by, assuming he fell asleep on the job. You remembered Natasha telling you how the young man nearly pissed himself when the manager confronted him. The tables turned though, he threatened to sue them when the security cameras proved he was indeed performing his duties. While the bank upheld a strong client privacy policy, and had no internal vault cameras, they did have an elaborate silent alarm system. But the burglars found an elaborate way of disabling it. The collapse in the system reported during the bank's after hours, allowing you to establish the time of the heist. The team speculated that's when all the break ins took place, but you couldn't be sure.
Now here you stood, analyzing the second card in Beacon Credit Union. After hearing about the bank robberies, they doubled security and installed cameras throughout their vault, but their efforts proved futile. Your mind was reeling with questions and possibilities as to how on earth he made it in and out of the vault without being seen by any employees or people visiting the bank that day. It was almost as if he had performed a great magic trick and appeared and disappeared into thin air. Maybe that's how he did it, the jester card certainly alluded to some trick or foolery.
It was his signature move. The elusive Loki Laufeyson, who'd used the calling cards in petty thefts committed a decade ago when he was just a young man on the wrong track. You didn't care much for the slap in the face he left behind, it did lead you to the fact that he was the one committing the crimes, but you did care to know why he never left one at the first robbery, the one at Foster Finance.
It was a small bank, with few employees and a vault that held less than half the number of deposit boxes than the ones at the other two. Same M.O.: Cameras and alarms disabled, only cash taken. The trust fund baby and owner of the company, Francis Foster was only a little bothered about the whole ordeal. But when you had billions to your name and a wife 20 years your junior at your side, there wasn't much to complain about. Life was sweet. You couldn't say that much about yours right now though.
You thought back to when you were on patrol. Two years of splitting up fist fights, arresting people for public urination and spending an awful amount of time in that patrol car with Andrews your old partner, who took it upon himself to pass the time by seeing who could stuff the most french fries in their mouth. He was intense in the fun loving, grin splitting sort of way, but you missed him. You remember when Tony approached you at the academy and how you almost fainted. He usually recruited the best of the best and after looking at your high test and field scores, he knew you were promising talent. So after completing the minimum years required of being a beat cop, Tony promoted you to detective right away.
The first month was for the most part boring. Petty theft, tax fraud, vandalism. Of course there was the occasional murder, which was always hard on everyone. You put your bones into every case and more often than not, you got your man. But if you were being honest, there was nothing that enticed you, that picked your brain and drove you to the edge of your seat. You would secretly hope for a case that would draw you in with the thrill of a chase. Natasha teased you about it to no end when you finally gave in and spilled on why you looked more disappointed than usual. "You're bored already huh? You know Tony said you were good, but I didn't know you were this good. I guess brilliance breeds boredom." She'd said.
You felt awful for thinking about it. Who in their right mind would wish for a crime to happen? But two weeks on the job and you got what you wanted. You should really be careful what you wish for.
Three banks robbed. One each month. Calling cards left only at the last two. The missing details had you stumped, bringing with them a splitting headache that seemed to grow everytime you looked at the notes you'd taken in your small pad.
"Hey. Take it easy. We're in this together, ok? We'll get this guy." Tony patted your shoulder as he rounded the vault a third time. For as long as you could remember, whenever there was a problem, you had to fix it. Every puzzle needed to be solved, every question needed to be answered. Whenever you thought you were taking too long to figure something out, you got upset. A little too upset, leading to a ruined punching bag in the gym and a busted up cutout at target practice.
Tony had a long talk with you on your little habit your second month on the job. While he thought you were an asset to the team, he reminded you that there was no room for the level of self scrutiny you allowed yourself.
"You're part of a team now, Y/l/n," he had reminded you.
And he was right. There were five other detectives involved. You needed to work together. You couldn't be self centered, not when there was maniac robbing a bank every month. Each one unpredictable. It was the biggest case of your budding career, the one you were hoping for...the one that extinguished your boredom, but increased your frustration.
Thankfully, you were less of an a*shole than you were the first month.
You had your coworkers to thank, though. You may have been wary of them in the beginning. Keeping a watchful eye and a cautious hand everytime you engaged with them, not used to being part of a team. But bit by bit they managed to chip away at some of the walls you had built around yourself over the years.
Sam, coaxed you into his jokes and high spirits when you were on the verge of pulling your hair out at your desk. Coffee refilled and donut half eaten.
Steve, the Sergeant, was known for his heart to hearts in the break room over tea and his homemade oatmeal raisin cookies.
Thor helped you ease your frustration on the mat, refusing to take it easy on you when you fought against him in defense training.
Nat convinced you to get coffee with her a couple times at her go to 24 hour cafe when the days were long and morale was low.
And Bucky, well Bucky was still on the fence. While he tried to engage in polite conversation with you from time to time, he was still distant, unlike the others. When you stepped foot in the precinct, he was cold to say the least. Steve tried his best to explain the situation to you in some detail, and what you gathered was that Bucky and his former partner, Det.Williams, found themselves in the middle of a violent shootout with a notorious drug ring, leaving Williams dead and a ruptured vessel in Bucky's left arm from a stray bullet. One amputation and funeral later, he was back at work and different from the fun loving ladies man they once knew.
He had every right to harbour some feelings of contempt for you. You were replacing his partner after all. You didn't need his approval, but you needed him to know that you had his back like everyone else's. But trust was a precious thing, and it wasn't given so easily.
Everyone had secrets, everyone had pain. And your walls weren't the only ones fractured during the night shifts.
You learned that Bucky wasn't the only one to lose a partner. Back when Sam was a beat cop, he was on the job with his friend Riley, dunking bear claws in lukewarm coffee in their squad car, laughing over some stupid joke about the captain. Until they responded to a domestic violence call. Sam was the only uniform to come out of the shoddy apartment alive. Riley beaten so badly, face bloody and unrecognisable after he tried to pull the deadbeat husband off his screaming wife. He spent 5 months in a coma, till his wife, tearful and broken in Sam's arms, decided to pull the plug when the doctor delivered the news that Riley was lost either way. You remembered bursting into tears on the drive home, reliving every detail of Sam's story over and over in your head. And it wasn't the last time you would cry over one of your coworker's stories.
Nat was an orphan left to rot in the system since she was 5. She spent more time on the streets sifting through old food wrappers and newspapers in trash cans, hoping to find a half eaten burger or a few fries, than she did in a warm and cozy bed, like now. But despite the security of a mattress and a door separating her from the darkness of the world, she still had nightmares. Nothing would remove the vivid memory of her 3rd foster dad creeping into her room when she was 16. Slinking his rough hands over her stomach and gnawing at her neck. It was the first time she threw a punch, and while it hurt like hell it got the bastard off of her. She ran until her feet hurt. But she found trouble again in a group of runaways in the city. They broke shop windows and stole more things than she could remember, but they kept her warm and fed for 3 years. That was before a few of them got arrested. She was curled up next to a dumpster in an alley when she met Clint, her now husband. He was pre-law at the city college and happened to get a strong hankering for a cup of joe. She remembered his soft smile when he handed her the warm coffee and placed his jacket over her shoulders.
"The rest is history." She had whispered when she took you to that same coffeplace after you fell asleep at your desk over a pile of case files you were obsessed with finishing.
The tea drinker however, Steve, was a former army man. Leaving his childhood sweetheart with a promise ring on a golden chain around her neck and his long time pal Bucky with a pat on the back when he left to be a ranger after months of hard work. He was excited. It was a welcome change in his life. He was following in his late father's footsteps, a man who prided himself on honour and patriotism. Steve was always in awe of the man his father was and he spent his entire life trying to be worthy of honouring his memory. He thought he'd find it on the battlefield, amidst the bravery in sacrifice as rival bullets buzzed past his head and the boom of explosives shattered his ear drum.
But when the dust settled and his sight cleared, the bloodied corpses of his fellow men had destroyed the illusion that once painted his mind. His letters to Peggy were suddenly soiled with the scars of his damaged spirit. When he was finally honorably discharged, he held onto her and didn't let go. She wouldn't let go of him either. Not when he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, or when tears would spill from his eyes when he expressed his feelings of inadequacy. Then Bucky came to see him, delighted that his friend was finally back for good. He told him he'd found his calling, being on the force, how he was making a difference, helping people. Steve thought about it for days, till he took the leap and got one of those blue uniforms himself. For the first time in years, he was okay.
There was one person on the team you were sure wasn't okay though, and that was Thor. How could he when he was part of the group of detectives working tirelessly to put his brother behind bars. The two were estranged. You didn't know the whole story but you weren't about to ask. There was a certain look in Thor's eyes you couldn't place, but it made you steer clear of him, even if he was friendly and an all round good guy. Almost too good to be true at times. You remember the first time you saw it, that look, when Captain Stark expressed his concerns for Thor being "too close" to the case, after figuring out that his brother, Loki, was involved. You almost missed it, but that look that appeared in his eyes raised the pores that lined your skin as a sudden and cold chill ran throughout your body.Thor reminded Tony of the amount of trouble his brother caused him in his life. He wanted to catch him just as much as the rest of us. He was a good detective and the extra manpower was needed, so Tony decided to leave it be. But you'd never forget that look, not for a long time.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when Tony shouted in the enclosed space, his voice coming off the walls.
"Alright everyone, we got our evidence and we're out in ten."
You stilled. There was an echo. A slight echo in the room that carried Tony's back, resonating from below. There wasn't supposed to be an echo. The entire room was lined with a high quality sound dampener that muffled any sound and absorbed echoes for improved security for the clients. You had done heavy research on the building's blueprints and had an off the clock meeting with their most recent contractor. An echo was impossible.
There had to be some damage to the integrity of the material, but was it just a coincidence? Maybe it happened before the bank was robbed, you made a mental note to question the manager. You had to be sure.
You eyes scanned the lines of grout, searching for some imperfection, hoping it would jump out at you.
Thor kept his eyes on you, wary of the way your eyes were focused. You were too much in your head again.
"Y/n, you alright?" You turned to see his large hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah, I am. I just have a bit of a headache." You held your temple and gave him a faint smile.
He rocked on his heels and nodded, scratching his beard.
"You wanna get a beer with me?" It was unexpected. A beer? With golden boy? You made a promise to yourself to be more outgoing with your team, especially when Loki came in to play. Tony had suggested it, and while you were making progress, for some reason his invitation seemed so outlandish to you. But you accepted anyway.
"Great. See you back at the precinct then."
"Hey kid, let's go. Paperwork's calling our name." Tony's head popped back in the room and you nodded.
"You know I have an actual name right? And it's not kid?" You teased.
"Well as soon as you tell me what it is, I'll be sure to use it."