(takes place after between sections 6 and 7 of "Fallen")

Olivia

I usually looked forward to school field trips, but not this one. Today we are visiting a museum, but not just any museum. We are visiting 'The National Avengers Museum of Heroics'. I won't be the only one going on this trip though: Stevie will be at the museum with me.

I see him standing with a couple of friends near the front entrance as his teacher pairs everyone into groups. My teacher is currently doing the same. Steve sees me watching him, sticking his tongue out at me playfully. I roll my eyes, finding a smile creeping onto my lips. He's certainly annoying, but he has a way of making me feel better when I'm uncomfortable or distressed.

My teacher finishes forming our groups, forcing me to tour the museum with three girls and two boys. I don't know any of their names, and they don't seem to care about introducing themselves or interacting with me, they're far too excited to tour the museum.

We haven't even been to any of the exhibits, yet everyone is staring around in complete awe. The entrance of the museum has banners hanging from the ceiling of different Avengers. Right next to us is a banner of Steve Rogers; his shield raised high and his face filled with determination. I glance back at Stevie and find him staring at the man he's named after, his face filled with just as much excitement as the rest of his class. Across the room is a banner of Mom; her head aimed up, with wings sprouting from her arms. There's one of Dad right next to her; his metal arm outstretched like he's about to punch someone.

Our teachers let us begin our tour, allowing us to roam about as we please with our chosen groups. My group wants to go into Hall C; the hall of villains. I already know this is going to be uncomfortable for me, but I don't have much say in this matter. Stevie and his group are going into Hall D; weapons.

In the hall of villains, there are sections dedicated to specific people. Loki has a section near the entrance of the hall, where a large mural of him lies around plaques about his life and his past. There's a video playing on the wall next to his mural; him during the Battle of New York City. There's similar set ups for other villains; Red Skull, Malekith, Ronan the Accuser, Ultron, and of course Thanos. Thanos has the biggest section of the hall. His mural shows his face next to a raised Infinity Gauntlet. Footage plays on the wall of Thanos during the Battle of the Universe. Seeing that footage is crazy to me. The other kids in my group are whispering how cool it is seeing all of the Avengers teaming up to defeat Thanos and his army. While it is quite the spectacle, all I can see is Thanos in this footage. Just thinking about my family being anywhere near him leaves me feeling nauseous.

This nausea doesn't subside once I see the entire section dedicated to HYDRA. This section mingles with Red Skulls's section. Of course in this part of the hall, Dad is mentioned. The mural of him shows him masked, with a different metal arm than the one he has now. The plaques around him detail the missions he did while under HYDRA's control. Unfortunately I've learned about a lot of this already in school. There's nothing more unsettling than sitting in a classroom and learning your dad killed JFK along with countless other people. It's stuff I try to ignore as much as possible.

Thankfully the group decides to leave this hall shortly after reading about HYDRA. This museum is very large, so large in fact it has halls dedicated to each Avenger, including Mom and Dad. Their halls are right next to each other since their stories intertwine so much. Steve Roger's is on the other side of Dad's.

One of the girls in my group insists on going to Mom's hall, so that's where we go. Despite myself, I smile as we walk inside. At the entrance of the hall it details Mom's childhood. There are pictures of her and Uncle Alex as children, of Grandma and Grandpa, and a couple plaques discussing her 'golden' childhood.

The section about her HYDRA days is very long. On plaques there are detailed descriptions of my mother's life; Emma Becker, Julian Remington, the serum, her training, Dad's hand in her training. All of it is laid out in vivid detail. I skip past the plaques that talk about her missions. I try to stay away from that information as much as possible, just like I do with Dad. It hurt me in ways I could never explain to hear about the horrible things done to my parents. They are the greatest people I know, and they were forced to do horrible things for a lot of horrible people. Most of their lives are apart of my school curriculum, but what I can avoid knowing stuff about their lives, I do. Specifically with Dad.

There's a huge mural at the very end of her hall that shows several versions of her doing different things; one shows her holding a gun shooting at an unseen soldier, one shows her biting into an alien creature in animal form, one shows her holding the infinity gauntlet during the Battle of the Universe. The biggest part of the mural is my mother stretching her arms out wide like in the banner outside. But inside of feathers coming from her arms, animals are painted all around her, all being depicted like they're physically coming out of her. That is what shapeshifting feelings like, so I give props to the artist. All the other versions of Mom are below the big picture of her. It's kind of like a collage of her and her heroism.

Mom's job is terrifying. Her job takes a toll on her that Steve fails to see; the weight and trauma of carrying the world on your shoulders. But she doesn't mind the weight. I see the look in her eyes every time she gets home from a mission; it's one of purpose and belonging. Mom is the strongest person I know. I see how much my fellow classmates look up to her, especially the girls. She's one of the strongest female role models out there, but no one will ever never know how incredible she truly is. Her intelligence, her kindness, her optimism, her loyalty, her humor, not to mention that she has the purest heart I've ever seen. I couldn't be more proud to be her daughter.

There's a connecting room between Mom and Dad's exhibits, one that's dedicated to their relationship. One of the girls in my group squeals; "These two are such a power couple. There's never been a more iconic relationship." This about sums up what I hear about my parents. So many people I go to school with are obsessed with them. It's weird enough hearing people talk about my parents individually, but it's even weirder when people talk about their relationship. Things can get graphic sometimes and it takes all my effort not to throw up.

The connecting room titled 'A HYDRA Love Story' is filled with plaques, pictures, and videos of Mom and Dad. I ignore the plaques detailing the timeline of their romance given I've grown up hearing about it. I look at some of the pictures shown in the room; them hugging on a battlefield, the two of them at the last accords signing, the two of them at one of Aunt Shuri's science and technology conventions. Each photo doesn't do their relationship justice. These are only small moments, not enough to truly know how much my parents love each other.

I glance over at the next wall, finding a small screen playing a video of my parents dancing at one of Aunt Shuri's other events. One of the girls watches it with me, shaking her head as my parents sway to the music.

"I wish I could find someone to love me like the Winter Soldier loves The Savage."

The other girl approaches us, nodding her head. "They're definitely couple goals."

"I wonder why they never had kids." The first girl comments, making me tense up slightly.

The other girl shakes her head. "It is rather odd. They're both superhuman, so they must do it all the time. It's a miracle they haven't had a kid or two."

And now is one of those times I feel like throwing up. I try not to look too disgusted but it's very hard.

The first girl ponders this for a moment before saying; "What if they did? They could have had a secret baby."

"A secret baby? Please. There's no way."

I nod in agreement, trying not to sound ironic as I say; "Even superheroes can't hide a kid forever. I think the public would know about it by now if they did have a kid."

The first girl shrugs. "It's still possible. If they did have though, that kid will be really attractive when they're older. They have some top notch genes."

I feel a smirk form on my lips. Little did these girls know they just said this to the daughter of the Winter Soldier and the Savage. The universe does truly have a sense of humor.

We go into Dad's exhibit next. I find Steve and his group are already in here. Steve is starring at the section talking about Dad in the 40's. There's several pictures of him in his army uniform on display. He looks so different than he does now.

Dad's age was certainly something to wrap our heads around as kids. It's rather creepy when I think about it too much. He's married to a woman whose over seventy years younger than him...but they look the same age. I glance over at my brother finding his eyebrows creased, his eyes deep in thought. I have a feeling he's thinking about the same thing.

Dad has a mural just like Mom does; there are small versions of him surrounding a large picture of him. These small versions of him are holding guns, fighting off aliens with his metal arm, and even holding Steve Roger's shield. The large picture of his has his metal arm up, his first curled in front of his face. Surrounding his face are the Russian brainwashing passwords in faint red paint. There are times when I see Dad tense up at the mention of one of these words. I hate it. He shouldn't have had to deal with this, with any of this.

"These paintings don't look like them." Steve mutters to me.

I have to agree. They are rather good, but they are missing a certain light and attitude that resides in our parents. But I guess this is as good a painting can get of them featuring the artist doesn't know them.

"The girls in my group were speculating that the Winter Soldier and The Savage had a secret baby." I tell him.

Unease settles over my brother. "What was the verdict on these speculations?"

"They agreed that it's possible but unlikely. They think that any kid those two had though would be very attractive."

Stevie smirks, looking back at the mural of Dad. "Irony really can be funny, can't it?"

I nod, letting out a small chuckle. "I bet they have quite the merchandise for both of them. Maybe we should get Mom and Dad keychains." I whisper to him.

"I propose a competition to see who can get them the best of their merchandise."

I nod to him. "You're on."

Stevie looks over at his group, seeing that they are occupied watching silent war footage of Dad during WWII. "I'm sure they won't mind me leaving for a few minutes."

I wave my hand, gesturing to the door. "It's not like you are going to learn anything on this visit. Might as well do something productive."

He raises his brow at me. "Buying useless junk with Mom and Dad's faces on them is being productive?"

I shrug. "Right now it is. It's less weird than reading about their lives and relationship, so I'm all for it."

Stevie shakes his head at me as we walk out of Dad's exhibit, heading towards the gift shop. "I don't get why you're so weirded out about hearing about their lives. We've grown up hearing about them, what's so different about hearing it here or in school?"

"It's the fact that I already hear about it at home that I don't want to hear it anywhere else. I hate that both of our worlds collide so much. I can't ever just live and enjoy one because the other always worms it's way in and screws with my head."

Steve sighs. "You take things too seriously."

"Maybe you don't take things too seriously enough."

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm 14. I don't have to take things seriously."

I let out a laugh despite myself. "Lets just go spend money on useless trinkets. I still bet I can get a better item."

Stevie scoffs, eyeing the gift shop in excitement. "Livy, you should know by now that trying to beat me is futile. They don't call me the King of Monopoly for nothing. I never loose."

"No one calls you that."

"I call myself that."

"Yes, because you're a dork."

He glares at me. "Just for that I'm getting a running start." He says, before sprinting off into the store. I follow after him, feeling myself actually begin to enjoy this day instead of feeling uncomfortable. This joy will only grow when I beat him in our competition. As I see a shirt that says 'James Barnes; kicking ass with good hair since 1917', I think I have this competition in the bag.