Writings and weird shit tbh

For the first time in months, you slept through the night, not even the sun lighting up the blinds was enough to pull you from sleep. It was the smell of breakfast that stirred you, confused at first when you woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Stretching, you realized Bucky was no longer on the floor, and if you listened closely, you could hear music on the radio. You smiled, finally feeling some kind of safe. You put your feet on the floor and walked out to the living room. Bucky greeted you with a cup of coffee and a good morning, leaving you to wake up slowly on the loveseat.

            “Any plans for today?” You asked Bucky after finishing your coffee, awake enough to have a conversation.

            “I was going to get some groceries, you’re welcome to stay the weekend but we’re going to need some food if you want to.” Bucky sat on the chair opposite you.

            “I can go shopping, are you sure it’s ok if I stay for the weekend? I don’t want to monopolize your space.” You were unbelievably grateful to have a place that soothed you, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever.

            “I have to get some work done downtown today anyway, there’s no need to make two trips.” He waved off your worry. “Why don’t you stay here for the weekend, and we can see how you’re feeling then?”

            He wasn’t pushing you; he was giving you a choice. He wasn’t telling you to talk to him, forcing you to go to therapy, making you get up and get out of the safe place he provided, he was just letting you exist without stress. Perhaps there were benefits to being friends with a traumatized, disabled war veteran. A real smile settled on your face, a look Bucky hadn’t seen on you in a long time.

            “That would be kind of perfect.” Your voice broke on the last word, the stress that had been eating at you making itself known.

            “Want some breakfast?” Bucky stood with the question, going to start some eggs and toast when you nodded. He turned up the radio when he went into the kitchen, you grabbed the book you started the night before and settled into the loveseat.

            After the two of you finished breakfast, you went to do the dishes and Bucky got ready to leave.

            “If you need anything while I’m out, just give me a call or send me a text, I can usually make those work.” Bucky had one hand on the door, the other on his bag.

            “Thank you.” You told him, thanking him for far more than just a place to stay. His face softened, understanding flashing across it.

            “I’ll be back this afternoon,” Bucky said, “try to give yourself a break.”

            You nodded and watched him walk to his car.

            For the first time in months, you had a place to stay that you felt safe, you were going to take full advantage of it. You cleaned up the breakfast mess and continued around the house, you swept the floors and tidied the bookcases. There wasn’t a lot to busy yourself with, so you ventured outside. Breathing in the morning air made you realize you’d been living in the city too long. There was no smell of cars or asphalt, no honking horns from down the block, you didn’t hear a group of drunk teenagers yelling at each other, or half of a phone conversation someone was having too loud in a public space. You felt soft grass beneath your feet, saw trees that made a forest buffer from the road, heard the rushing of a river somewhere close by. You spent your morning this way, enjoying the sunshine, the nature that couldn’t seem to be present in the busy city. Birds hopped branch to branch, squirrels chirped at each other in warning. When the sun was high and you felt your stomach start to rumble you went back inside, finding some basics in the fridge to make a passable lunch.

            You made some lunch and a mug of tea, feeling sure of yourself for the first time in a while. You made sure the house looked nice for Bucky, you felt bad stealing his space, but eternally grateful. In the bedroom you realized that Bucky left a mess of blankets on the floor by the bed. Wanting to help, you took the sheets he used and found a stack washer/dryer in a closet off the bathroom. It didn't take long to see the linen closet in the bedroom, but the dresser was pushed up against it.

“Dammit.” It took a few tries and a smashed thumb, but you were able to pull the dresser away from the door behind it, to get Bucky some clean sheets. The dresser was heavy and awkward, but it was the only place it would fit in the bedroom, so you couldn’t give Bucky too much of a hard time, for putting it in front of the only linen closet the cabin had. The feet of the dresser groaned against the floor when you slid it out of the way enough to open the closet and get fresh sheets and towels.

Happy you hadn’t been beaten by an inanimate piece of wood, you pulled the closet open in triumph. Instead of enjoying a small victory, you stepped back and covered your mouth in shock. The small closet was filled with items that belonged to your dead friend.

There were three shelves, not very deep and not very wide, each shelf could have kept a set of sheets and three towels, but instead there were items you thought had been lost. You touched a box that was filled with pictures, some you recognized, some you were in, some showed only your friend. The back wall was lined with their old books, some personal, you saw a biology textbook they had to purchase for a college class they took once. Another box held random small items, their keys, their old phone which had never been found, their driver’s license, and a few letters from various people. What confused you most, was a manila folder that contained three passports, all with different names, but the same photo of your friend. Why would they have more than one passport? Your thoughts were cut short when you heard his voice.

“Hello?” Between the shock and the tears, you hadn’t heard the door open. Your hands started shaking, you dropped the passport you were holding. You looked around frantically, but there wasn’t anywhere you could go. You heard his steps, then the door to the bedroom opened wider.

“Shit. I should have told you not to go looking around.” Bucky’s voice was closer, it was almost angry, but you couldn’t look at him.

“What is all this?” You could hardly hear the words you spoke, this felt like a bad dream.

You heard Bucky let out a sigh.

“That’s something I didn’t want you to find.” You finally looked up at him, he was sitting on the bed staring at you.

You felt frozen, looking to where the passport fell to the floor for half a second before deciding to run. It was a stupid decision, he was faster and stronger, you didn’t make it a step before he blocked your exit.

“I was worried you’d react like this, it’s why I didn’t tell you.” Bucky’s arm around your waist pushed you back into the room. You sat down on your bed, hard, staring at him, waiting for something.

“You didn’t tell me what?” You whispered out, too many thoughts, too loud racing though your head. Bucky sighed again, ran his hand through his hair while trying to put the right words together.

            “I didn’t want to have to tell you that I killed your friend.” Bucky wouldn’t look at you.

            You were ready for some combination of those words, but it hurt more than you could imagine. You trusted him, you saw him multiple times a week, he had been there to help comfort you all those years ago, had offered his shoulder to cry on. Of the people you knew, he was one of the few to gain your trust, your kindness, even some of your respect. You had been played for a long time. That was what hurt the most.

            “Why?” There were a thousand things racing through your mind, one word was all you could manage to verbalize. Bucky still stood squarely in front of the door.

“They weren’t who they said they were.” He acted like his words should make you feel better, like they should make you feel something other than betrayal, pain, anger and hurt.

“They cared about me.” That was all that mattered to you, they grew up with you, loved you, they were family to you. You wracked your brain for clues that would explain what Bucky was talking about.

“You’re not dumb, what do you really think they were doing all those years ago? Why is it there are three passports in that manila folder you were holding? Why do you think one of the passports is Russian?” Bucky closed in on where you were sitting, the small room felt even more cramped.

You didn’t want to let his words get to you, to sully your memories of them. Even so, you thought back to your last interaction, the last things you said to each other. They had to go overseas, said it was work for SHIELD, that they’d be back in a week. That’s why it was so surprising to find their body only an hour from their house, when they weren’t even supposed to be in the country.

“You killed them.” Of course it was Bucky, he knew what he was doing. That was why you hadn’t found any evidence, no fingerprints, footprints, DNA or anything else to link him to their death. He was a professional, he was a ghost.

“They were going to hurt you, they were going to hurt everyone.” Bucky’s voice got lower, quieter, more intimidating. You didn’t like how he looked down at you, you felt small under his unrelenting stare.

“They never hurt me.” Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, you couldn’t hear what he was saying, you wouldn’t.

“Is that a price you’re willing to pay?” Bucky’s fingers brushed your cheeks. “You’re willing to let everyone you love get hurt, just because they weren’t going to hurt you? Is that worth it?” He knew your answer, knew you would agree with him. That didn’t make it hurt less.

“So, you just…” it was hard to speak, “… you just murdered them in cold blood.” It wasn’t a question anymore.

“Hardly the first time.” He drew closer to where you sat, the space between you even smaller.

“You’re a monster.” You met his eyes, you saw him for what he was, saw the man he insisted was long gone. But he hadn’t really gone anywhere.

            “Sweetheart you have no idea.” You weren’t expecting Bucky’s lips to find your own, or his body weight on top of yours, making you sprawl across the bed on your back. You let out a yelp around his lips, hands pushing at his shoulders to free yourself from his limbs. Your feet hit the floor, and you tried to run, but he was stronger, as always.

            “Let go!” You tried to kick, hit, flail your limbs to give you any advantage but you found none.

            “And where exactly do you think you’re going?” The snarl in his voice scared you, he never spoke to you so harshly before. Fresh tears began to slip from the corners of your eyes, fear and rage fighting for control.

            “To tell everyone you’re a fucking murderer.” You shrieked, the sound of your voice dying when he wrapped his arm around your throat.

            “And what makes you think they don’t already know?” His words were ice in your heart, of course they knew, how couldn’t they? The realization made you freeze, made the world stop turning, your thoughts come crashing down around you. Of course they knew. And they had all been lying to you for years. For a few minutes you couldn’t move, could hardly feel him touching you, some kind of trance was keeping you from controlling your body. You couldn’t speak, so he continued.

            “My pardon included a lot of stuff, a lot of deaths. They’re all in the past now.” In the past. His words brought you back to reality in an unpleasant way. Suddenly you felt everything, his hands on your skin, voice in your ear, it was too much. You lashed out, trying anything to free yourself from his grasp, but he just held you down tighter.

            “Then let the past die, Bucky.” The tears were flowing freely now, you didn’t try to contain them. “Let me go.”

            “The past can die, it’s gone. But this is the present, and you’re here with me now.” Bucky brought his leg between your thighs, you felt him run his hands up your body.

            “Why?” You choked out, wanting to burn his hands for touching you. The sick cold feeling they brought to your skin was overwhelming.

            “Because you’re so fun to play with.” A wicked grin filled your vision, you tried to hit him, but he was already holding your hands over your head.

            “Stop!” The only thing you had left was your voice, the rest of your body was firmly under his control.

“You know if you let me, I could give you anything you want in the whole world. You don’t have be miserable for the rest of your life.” Bucky acted like he was someone with all the answers, someone who cared about you, would make sure you were happy.

“I want my best friend back, asshole.” Tears ran faster, your voice broke. Bucky just sighed and shook his head.

“I wish you wouldn’t insist on the impossible.” He lowered his head to kiss your neck, giving you a bite when you wouldn’t stop trying to get away. You cried out, still trying to pry him off you, wishing your attempts would do more than slightly annoy him. But who were you to him? No more than a fly buzzing around his head that he could swiftly capture and crush. It felt like your heart was being crushed right now.

“Stop, please.” Your voice was shaky, quieter than you wanted. Bucky just hummed at you. You tried to stop him when he pulled your shirt off, his hands overpowering your own when you tried to hide your body from him. It wasn’t hard to do away with your pants, he broke the button and ripped them away from your legs.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to have you in my arms, doll?” Bucky’s voice seemed to come from all around you, it was all you could hear. Even with your eyes closed you felt sick.

“Is this really what you wanted?” Your eyes were red from crying, your voice strangled. Though it was useless, you were pushing against him, struggling for an ounce of control he wouldn’t give you. You knew you looked scared, confused, angry, tired. You felt like this day lasted a thousand years. Bucky looked down from where he was situated on top of you, ran his finger over the veins in your wrist.

“Not exactly like this, but I’ll take what I can get.” You were too focused on what he was saying and how to plead your way out of the situation to notice he had shed his own pants.

Your scream mixed with his groan as he pushed inside of you. You weren’t ready for his intrusion, your scream turned into a strangled gasp when he gripped your hips and pulled them against his own. You choked on a sob while Bucky lost himself in you. Finally, he could take you all in, finally you were beneath his fingertips. You felt better than he imagined, though he hadn’t been imagining your pleas for him to stop, or your hands trying to push him away, but they were easy enough to ignore.

Your mind whirled, it felt like you were looking at yourself from across the room. You saw Bucky’s hands on you, felt him inside of you, but it couldn’t be real. The sounds of your cries became drowned out by Bucky’s noises of pleasure, your resistance loosened as your mind slipped farther away from your body. You couldn’t control anything anymore.

Bucky freed himself from his shirt, his chest brushed yours when he whispered nasty things in your ears. You couldn’t hear him, your ears buzzed with static and fear, too aware that this monster inside you had killed your friend, had been the last thing they saw. You couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips when Bucky put your nipple in his mouth, a smirk on his face when he leaned back. He was winning and he knew it.

You didn’t expect Bucky to lower his face between your legs, but his arms around your legs kept you from going anywhere. You tried so hard not to give in when his tongue connected with your clit, but each movement had you slipping farther from whatever reality you existed in. His grin was painfully smug when he emerged, happy once he was able to make you see stars and emit a whorish moan. You hated every all of it. It only took him a second to guide himself back inside you, another gasp escaping your lips.

“This is what I wanted.” Bucky fixed his eyes on yours and tipped his hips until yours rolled back and you made another sinful moan.

“No…” you choked, the pleasure he was giving you cut the rest of your words off. Bucky was unrelenting, his movements pushed you into the mattress, so you had no choice but to take what he gave you. You wanted to turn around so you couldn’t see him, it was torture enough that this was making you feel good, you didn’t want him to watch your face come apart too.

“Stop pretending you hate this.” Bucky’s voice whispered over the shell of your ear, he grazed his teeth over it when he made you moan.

“You can’t… fuck…” your sentence was interrupted when his hand met your clit and pushed you over the edge of your orgasm. Your body arched and he kept going, undeterred by your attempts to push him off.

“I knew you loved this… fuck I knew it.” Bucky’s hand found the back of your head and pulled you close for a crushing kiss. You felt him twitch inside you, felt his cum flood you before he stopped.

You could do nothing but lie there and shake, your mind and body still separated from each other. You just waited, waited for what he would do to you now that you knew, every worst-case scenario running through your head. You didn’t expect him to kiss you, that hadn’t been in any of the scenarios you pictured, your breath cut short by his lips.

“I can’t believe I let this much time pass.” Bucky looked down on you beneath him, but not with anger, with some mix of pity and regret. You were still finding your breath, but your tears made it hard. You were trembling, tears slipping through the corners of your eyes, running down to wet the pillow.

“Are you going to kill me?” You didn’t know if he would hear it, but whatever made him so fast and strong enhanced his hearing too. He let out a soft laugh, his fingers traced your cheekbones.

What could you do but sit there and stare? You turned the small ship in a bottle over a dozen times, waiting for something to happen. But it wasn’t magic, nothing happened but the feeling of dread creeping up from your stomach. It felt like you were watching yourself, some weird out of body experience had you watching yourself like a play. But you didn’t know the lines.

Instead of going straight to crazy, you considered that maybe while you were moving things, the trinket found its way into your belongings. With a grimace you remembered giving the ship in a bottle to their mom, years ago. Thinking of their mom, you remembered you hadn’t heard back from her since you called weeks ago and decided to punch the number into your phone. It rang too many times, but instead of getting her usual voicemail you were met with a robot.

            “This voice messaging service has not yet been set up. Goodbye.”

The call ended before you could pull it away from your ear. She had the same number for more than twenty years; you helped her set up the voicemail when you and your friend were children. You knew her voicemail so well because you could hear you and your friend giggling in the background. You were confused, frustration threatened to spill over so you set down your phone before you did something dumb like throw it across the room. Instead of taking the ship in a bottle with you, you hid it in your drawer and stormed down the hallways to find a decent computer. Maybe you should have been focusing more on the trinket in your room, but you were sure if you tried hard enough you could find your friend’s mom’s phone number.

You knew Natasha had a computer with high clearance, so you sat behind her desk and started looking. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like your friend’s mom disappeared from the face of the earth. You found that she sold her home a few years ago, but there was no record of a new purchase, and no forwarding address. You knew their landline was taken out years prior, so other than the cell phone number you already had, you couldn’t find another way to contact her. It looked like she quit her job and retired, so her work address was no good anymore, and when you called, they couldn’t give you any forwarding information. According to them, she faxed in a letter of retirement, and nobody saw her again. They didn’t even give a mailing address to forward her paycheck.

Sitting back in the chair with a frustrated huff, you realized you had nothing, you were no better off than you had been two hours prior. Your mind went back to the ship in a bottle hidden in your nightstand. You didn’t want to go look at it again, you didn’t want proof that you were going crazy. You wanted to talk to someone who could understand. It seemed like the one person who could was out of your reach, just when you needed it most.

When you walked back upstairs you tried so hard not to cry, but the confusion, exhaustion and realization that you were worse off than when you started hit you hard. You took deep breaths and blinked slowly to keep the tears off your cheeks, but it didn’t work. At least you didn’t break down into full sobs, a few tears were easy to wipe away. Nothing seemed to be on your side when Bucky met you at your door.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your tears.

“I just, I just, I just can’t be here…” you weren’t making sense, you couldn’t control yourself right then. Words didn’t make sense, but nothing else did either.

“What do you mean?” Bucky took your shoulders, trying to steady you.

“Everything, I can’t do it!” You tried to compose yourself but how could you? “I need to be alone, and everyone is everywhere here, why can’t I just be alone?” The tears had turned into sobs, your emotions launching into a full-on meltdown.

You weren’t sure when you sat down on the floor or when you let Bucky pull you into his arms, but you knew you sat there for a long time. You were grateful nobody else wandered down the hall to see you broken down. It took you longer than you cared to admit to finally pull it together enough to take deep breaths. You were thankful that Bucky had a handkerchief, so your entire face wasn’t covered in snot and tears. He didn’t make you talk, just sat there quietly until you were ready to stand up.

“Thanks.” You told him, when he offered his hand to help you stand. You still weren’t sure what to do, you didn’t want to go back in your room, you didn’t want to be around anyone else, and you couldn’t go back to your apartment anymore, it wasn’t yours now.

“You said you didn’t want to be here.” Bucky still held your arm.

“No.” You whispered, still composing yourself.

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” His voice was low, soothing. Of course you did, you wanted to be anywhere but in Stark tower that had too many people with too many eyes on you.

“Did you have somewhere in mind?” You were happy to get a sentence out without choking on it. Bucky smiled.

“Grab a toothbrush and we can get you out of here for tonight.” That was all the encouragement you needed, you breezed through your room in a daze, picking up some sleeping clothes and your toothbrush fast as you could.

You went with Bucky down the elevator, through the halls until you found yourselves in the parking garage.

“You have a car?” You asked him. You had never seen Bucky drive, but you hadn’t been in a position where he had to.

“I can drive too, I learned in the 30s. Cars are easier to drive now though.” You listened as the two of you got in the car and buckled. You weren’t sure where you two were going but you trusted him.

The city lights wound around the car, you zoned out until you saw them start to disappear behind you. The moon was able to outshine the lights now, so you watched her track across the sky with the two of you. The longer you drove the brighter the stars shined. Bucky didn’t bother you with chatter and you were grateful. Eventually you turned onto a dirt road, and you got more interested in where you could be.

The two of you didn’t go too much farther, five or ten minutes passed on the dirt road before you came to a driveway. When you pulled in you saw a cabin surrounded by trees, a blanket of stars coloring the sky above it. It was dark, but you could hear the rushing of a stream nearby, the grass underfoot seemed so soft you wanted to take off your shoes and run through it. But it was dark, and Bucky was waiting.

You followed the light of the open door into the cabin, surprised to find it more cozy than rustic.

“How’d you manage to find this place?” You set down your small bag to look around. it wasn’t big, the living room had a loveseat and a chair, there was a small kitchen with running water and a fridge. What looked like a bedroom door was in the corner, and an open door revealed a small bathroom with a corner shower. There was no television, but you noticed two bookshelves against a wall, both filled with books.

“It was hard to come back and be around people all the time.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “Steve asked around, turns our this is an old property of Tony’s that he forgot about. Steve and I fixed it up, I use it when I need to get away.”

“Thanks for letting me come over. I really didn’t want to be there.” You looked at the floor, unsure of what else to say.

“Come on, you can put your stuff in the bedroom. I’m more comfortable on the floor anyway.” Bucky picked up your bag and you followed him to the bedroom door.

“I can’t take your bed, Bucky.” You told him when he set your bag down.

“It’s not mine, technically it’s Tony’s, we used his money to furnish this place.”

“Still…” The look he gave you silenced your protest. You pulled the sleeping clothes from your bag and got ready to settle in for the night. You watched Bucky put some blankets on the wood floor by the bed, grab an extra pillow from the living room. You weren’t sure why he was being nice, why he was helping you but your mind was so fried you accepted it without too much internal pushback.

Waking in Loki’s bed was not completely unusual, though this was not the bed you knew from your childhood, or his old room. You were confused when you opened your eyes, seeing an unfamiliar room, but knew where you were when you felt Loki’s hand on your hip. He had removed the top layer of your dress, but you were otherwise fully clothed, as was Loki when you turned on your other side.

“I never tire of seeing your eyes in the morning.” Loki’s voice was deep and sleep clouded, he was gazing at your face as you blinked in the morning light.

You laughed lightly and sat up, surveying the room since you hadn’t the night before. The room was enormous, and it reminded you of the palace from your childhood. Loki had artwork hanging, tapestries covered the cold, dark rock walls, bright rugs dampened the sound on the echoing floors. There was a series of large windows, letting in the sunlight, making the room glow.

“It’s beautiful here, I can’t stand how cold and dark everything else is now.” You felt Loki’s hand on your back, then his head as he leaned against you.

“Cold and dark seeped in,” he mumbled against you, “it came quickly.”

He sat up, offered you his hand and helped you rise from bed.

“I’ll have breakfast sent if you’ll stay.” Loki’s eyes sparkled in the sunshine.

“Won’t Odin and Thor have something to say about us missing breakfast?” You replied, smoothing down your hair best you could.

“The Allfather and Thor have gone off to war, they left at daybreak.” Loki informed you.

It was then you started to remember the specifics of last night, the toasts and promises that Odin had made. You remembered there was blood spilled, lives taken in the great hall, met with cheers. That the Allfather had allowed his feasting hall to be sullied with blood of his own soldiers, under his eye.

“Why has Odin gone? He hasn’t gone to battle in centuries, Thor wears his breastplate,” you reasoned. Loki looked at you in a way you didn’t completely understand but you didn’t like.

“Things have changed around Asgard my dear,” he reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “The great hall will be much emptier and much uglier than my seating area.” He gestured to the well-furnished, well-decorated room behind him.

You were upset the Allfather and Thor had disappeared the day after you arrived when you had only come at their invitation. So far you had seen a transformed Asgard, a sorry excuse for a feast and your beloved library turned into a training room. Realizing you didn’t really want to walk down cold corridors and eat in an empty hall you nodded and let Loki call a guard and tell them to bring breakfast.

He showed you to the bathing room where you cleaned up and ran a brush through your hair. You didn’t look too disheveled, though you wanted to change out of the gown you had been wearing last night. You wondered if he called a maid from outside the city to see to you and your room, you couldn’t believe the citizens had been told to leave. Satisfied with your reflection, you left the bathing room to find a soldier setting out food on the table.

Breakfast was what you remembered, enjoying the smells and flavors of home. Loki watched you eat before he joined you, still never taking his eyes off your movements.

“Loki why has Odin gone off to war today?” You were awake enough now; this question had been bothering you.

“Because he intends to take control of Svartálfar,” Loki replied, digging into his breakfast.

“Take it, what do you mean?” You weren’t satisfied with his answer. Loki nodded his head towards your seat, gesturing for you to begin breaking fast with him. You took a drink from the cup set before you.

“He intends to set up his rule in Svartálfar,” he told you, “Odin will see to the surrender and execution of those who followed the false leader and instate Thor as their leader until things settle.”

Settle? As far as you knew there was one ruling family in Svartálfar who had been there for as long as you’d been alive. What aggression had they shown for Odin to bring upon them their own demise?

“When will he come back?” you asked before taking a bite of breakfast. “When will Thor?”

“Odin will come back when things are less violent, shouldn’t take more than a turn of the moon or two.” Loki seemed unbothered, like this was an everyday conversation, as if dismantling the ruling system of an entire realm was hardly worth talking about.  “I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for my brother, it could be years until he is able to put together a trustworthy ruling council on Svartálfar, especially with those so loyal to the current ruling family.”

“Years?” You didn’t want to believe him, hadn’t you traveled to Asgard to see Thor and Odin? Loki looked at you in amusement, your confusion was darling.

“Odin is looking forward to spending time with his daughter, he’s missed you while you were away.” Loki insisted.

“Then why did he leave the day after I got here?” You asked again the timing of your arrival, and their departure was less than expected.

Loki’s eyes surveyed your face. He looked and felt so different now, but his eyes could always pull you in, he could always look at you and somehow tell what you were thinking.

“There’s no planning for visits in a war darling,” he told you, “Odin wanted to stay with you, but your arrival coincided with a turning point on Svartálfar that he simply couldn’t pass.”

You took a breath and looked at the food in front of you, suddenly less hungry than before. Once again, Odin had decided something else came before you, something more important drew his attention the moment he had promised it to you. Part of you wondered why you even came back to Asgard. Loki’s hand on yours chased the aggravation from your head. It wasn’t Odin you really came back for, it was Loki, who always made you feel safe and special, along with the promise of honoring your late mother Frigga. So far, Odin had disappeared and the opportunity of honoring Frigga as a family seemed far off. It was Loki’s fingers tracing your wrist that kept you from leaving.

“So, what now?” You asked him, picking at your breakfast with the hand he wasn’t holding.

“Now you should get back to your room, get dressed and we can survey the rest of the castle once you’re ready to enjoy the day, my dear.” Loki replied. He recognized you were quite finished with your food and held his hand for you to take.

Loki walked you through the halls of the palace, a labyrinth you once knew well you would have to relearn. All the paintings and statues that once acted as markers to help you navigate the halls were gone, it made it hard to know which turns to take. Eventually you came to your door, Loki giving you a kiss on the cheek after he opened your chambers.

“Do send word when you’re finished,” he told you, “I’ve missed our walks together.” Loki squeezed your hand in his and left you to your untouched room.

“Let me help you, my lady.” The maid from last night followed you into the bathing room and began to draw hot water for your bath. You were taking apart the laces of your dress, you hadn’t needed a handmaiden for years.

“I’m quite alright, thank you.” You let the clothes you were wearing fall, and stepped into the hot, perfumed water.

When you closed your eyes, it was the Asgard you knew. The smell of Frigga’s perfumes brought you back to your childhood, you could almost feel her fingers scrubbing the dirt out of your hair and telling you stories. You stayed until the water began to cool, not wanting to leave the happy bubble the hot bath had created. The Asgard that you were in was frightening to you, it was cold and angry, dark and full of fear. How could Odin have allowed this to happen?

When you stood and dried, you found another of Frigga’s dresses laid out for you to wear. It was a dark green that reminded you of fields of grasses that came to full color in late autumn, lined with silver threads, bright as the moon. You allowed the maid to place jewelry on your fingers and wrists, not paying much attention until the door opened.

“You look stunning.” Loki greeted you, his eyes roaming your body. The maid scurried off to the bathing room when he appeared, the second time in two days she had showed fear in Loki’s presence.

“You’re very kind.” You greeted him with a smile. You watched him approach you in the mirror and take something from the table next to you.

“You were missing something.” He murmured, clasping a silver piece of jewelry around your neck. It was a thin silver snake, the shade of the metal matched exactly with the silver accents in the dress you wore.

“I thought you’d be busy today, Loki. You said it yourself, there is much to be done.” You touched the necklace and turned to face him.

“I could never be too busy for you.” He assured you. “Besides, I want to show you something important to mother.”

Loki had promised you a celebration of life for Frigga, though based on Odin and Thor’s absence, you realized a feast wasn’t in order that day. Your curiosity was piqued, so you allowed Loki to take your hand and lead you through the halls.

This time Loki led you to the stables where a soldier was readying his horse. You loved the stables; you had spent time reading in the hay while your horses watched you in the summer sunshine. Instead of lingering, Loki saddled his horse, and the soldier lifted you behind him. Not expecting it, you yelped when the strange man lifted you. Loki chuckled and made sure you were situated behind him before urging the horse forward.

You used to love riding through the city. It was always filled with talking, laughter, people moving through the streets, children darting in and out of the way. There had been markets and food, hopeful playwrights performing in the streets, fountains bubbling, animals making noises. This time you saw nothing but soldiers, heard nothing but the beating of the horse’s hooves against the stone. The farther you got the happier you were to be away from the cold, silent city. You could still see Asgard when you stopped, but it was small on the horizon. You weren’t sure why Loki helped you off the horse until you turned and saw why you had come.

When you turned away from the city, you saw her. It was a statue of the only mother you knew, Frigga. Far enough from the cold city, it brought tears to your eyes to see how many Asgardians still cared for her. There were garlands of fresh flowers, trees and hedges kept lush and green, bundles of incense were still burning in the stone offering bowl, and gold coins were scattered about her feet. You were happy to see someone had planted Frigga’s favorite flowers, their bright colors lighting up the area. It took your breath away.

“Loki, she’s beautiful.” You whispered in awe. To be among the flowers, sunshine, trees, open sky was the best way to show love to your mother Frigga. This is where she belonged, not in the cold transformed palace that held no life or love.

“Always a stunning sight.” Loki murmured back, his gaze fixed on your face.

The light breeze tossed leaves and flowers in the air, incense smoke twirled around Frigga’s statue. A mother and child left coins by her feet with a clink, a prayer escaping their lips. You stood and watched, tears in your eyes, a feeling you didn’t realize you had gone without filled your chest. You hadn’t even realized how much her loss had impacted you. Loki was right, you just left. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t said goodbye, but you didn’t get to say goodbye to her, to honor your late mother, to process everything that happened and everything she had done for you.

What could you possibly fill all your time with? It was the question that you fell asleep and woke up asking yourself. Your life didn’t revolve around your job but most of your day was spent at work or talking to people at work. Your days were predictable and orderly, and you liked that. To suddenly have no structure or direction for your day felt wrong.

            You started the coffee and laid across the couch, willing yourself to think of anything to do but chores. You decided to humor Sam and call your old therapist later that day, maybe talking to someone would be a good idea. Maybe it wouldn’t. You poured yourself some coffee and started breakfast contemplating the rest of your day.

            Deciding it was best to leave the house, you wandered through the library for a few hours before heading to the store for groceries. You had enough food, but it was something that would eat away at the day, the hours before you were hours you dreaded. There was little to distract you from your own thoughts. Around noon you returned home and were met with an unwelcome guest.

“Are you kidding me? I haven’t caused any problems, I’m always early with the rent, I don’t have people over, we’ve never, ever had a problem. Is there nothing you can do?”

This was bullshit. Apparently, you had forgotten to get your landlord’s permission about changing the locks and putting up cameras, so when you got home you found them standing at your front door looking pissed off.

            “Sure, I could, but I wanted to raise the rent anyway, and you won’t pay it. It’s easier to just get you out this way. You’ve got until the end of the month.” Your landlord didn’t seem to care about your upended life, or that you had a week to find a new place to live before being homeless. He threw a new key in your direction before he got in his car and left you to your apartment.

            This was great. You now had no job, no place to live, few friends, and everyone you knew thought you were losing your mind. This is how you found yourself on the curb in front of Stark Towers days later.

            “Hey, are you moving in?” Steve cracked a grin. Little did he know it wasn’t a joke.

            “For a little while.” You huffed in anger.

            “Really?” Sam popped up behind Steve, he was never far away.

            “Yes, really. Not for long though.” When you walked in, Bucky greeted the three of you by the elevator.

            “Let me get that for you,” Bucky offered, but you shrugged his polite offer away. It was only a backpack. The rest of your things Natasha had helped you move into her basement until you found a new home. Bucky hit button for the seventh floor, where Tony had extra rooms for guests that stayed, or longer-term team members who didn’t feel like renting their own place while they were in town. You weren’t sure which category you fit under.

            Instead of leaving, the three men followed you through the floor, Steve and Sam pointed out rooms that were empty. You set your backpack down in one of the rooms that had its own bathroom attached and waited for them to leave. Only Bucky seemed to understand that you wanted space, Steve and Sam seemed happy to camp out in your new room for hours.

            “So, what made you change your mind and decide to stay here with us? Besides our charming personalities?” Steve wandered around your new room, looking at the sparse decoration.

            “I got evicted.” You weren’t looking at any of them, putting your clothes in drawers, avoiding eye contact.

            “What? Why?” It was Sam that questioned you next, surprised.

            “Remember how you guys helped me change the locks and put up cameras?” The three of them nodded. “Apparently that was a lease violation, so I have to find a new place to stay.” There was quiet in the room for a beat, guilt in the air.

            “I’m sorry,” Bucky spoke up from the doorframe, “I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it would get you into trouble.” He seemed to mean it.

            “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.” You assured him. Steve and Bucky showed themselves out, but Sam lingered.

            “How are you feeling?” He asked, concern on his face.

            “Pretty shitty Sam, I’m homeless, jobless until you let me come back to work, and I don’t have a clue what to do with myself. How are you?” You let venom seep into the question.

            “Have you talked to your therapist?” Sam asked, clearly continuing to worry.

            “Yeah, I’m seeing them next week.” You fibbed, not wanting to let Sam know you hadn’t even reached out to them.

            “Do you want to talk to them today?” He looked at you with a knowing glance.

            “You called them, didn’t you?” You dropped the shirt you were holding onto the bed.

            “They might be in the lobby waiting to talk to you.” Sam was many things, but stupid was not one of them.

            “They might be?” You glared again.

            “Would it hurt you to spend an hour talking to them?” He was almost pleading with you. This was why you hadn’t wanted to move into the tower, people were still treating you like a glass that would shatter at any moment.

            “Are you really giving me a choice in the matter?” You sighed.

            “Go see them, it might help.” Sam gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving you to your thoughts.

            Half an hour later you were cursing Sam for calling your therapist but were nonetheless on your way to see them. If they came all the way downtown, you’d humor them. You greeted them with an apology which they insisted wasn’t needed, then followed them to a quiet room down the hall. You didn’t want to talk to them, you didn’t want another person to tell you that you lost your mind. The two of you sat opposite each other in comfortable chairs, each waiting for the other to begin.

            “It’s been a while; I was wondering how you’ve been doing.” The therapist spoke up.

            “Almost a year.” You nodded.

            “Do you want to fill me in?” They asked, looking interested. You let out a long sigh.

            “Where do you want me to start?” You asked.

            “Wherever you feel comfortable.” They wouldn’t push, which was almost worse.

            “Let’s see, we can start with being evicted, being taken off my job, the fact that I haven’t seen my family in over a year or that I’ve been seeing things apparently. What sounds most fun to tackle in an hour?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. Your therapist was a professional, they never responded to your sarcasm or goading.

            “What’s bothering you the most right now?” They asked.

You took a few minutes to collect your thoughts. You had been putting off talking about anything for too long, it was easier not to acknowledge things that ate at you. You had seen a therapist after your friend died, and after some traumatic missions eight months ago, but that had been out of necessity and a court order. Therapy made you feel vulnerable, exposed, both things you didn’t like. Collecting yourself turned out to be impossible. You felt a tear slip down your cheek before you could stop it. You tried to speak clearly but your voice broke.

“I think I’m going crazy.” You knew it was a very vague statement that you would have to elaborate on, but just saying it out loud to a mental health professional was a different kind of hurt. “I think I’m seeing things.” You couldn’t make eye contact.

“When did this start?” There wasn’t judgment in their voice, pity either. Finally, someone who heard you without assuming the worst. It made it easier to deal with.

“A couple months ago.” You sniffed, regaining composure. “Someone left my dead friend’s necklace on my door and broke into my home.”

“That sounds terrifying, what happened?” They questioned, understanding on their face. It was the lack of pity, or the understanding tone that made the dam break, everything that you faced the last two months came spilling out. The break-ins, the necklace, the journal, the cameras, eviction, everything. The tears that managed to flow were brushed away as you continued to talk. Eventually there was no more to say, so you fell quiet.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Your therapist leaned forward. “Whatever happens, you know you’re safe here, right? Your friends are all concerned about you and want to help. Will you let them?”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say or do.

“Can you contract for safety with me?” Fuck. They thought you were a self-harm risk.

“Yes, I’m not going to hurt myself or anyone else. I’m just confused and tired.” You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, thank you for that. Will you sign your safety plan? I want you to follow it if you get to a lower place.” You looked at the paper your therapist pushed in front of you. It was the safety plan you were required to make after your friend’s death, when you were in a really low point in your life. The therapist had put you on watch, regardless of how many times you told them you weren’t at risk of harm.

“Fine.” You reached forward and signed on the dotted line, putting the date next to your signature. “Is that all?” You asked, no longer willing to be in the room with them.

“I want you to meet with me tomorrow, same time?” They looked at you expectantly.

“Do I have to?” You asked, suspicious.

“I’ve been asked to do regular sessions with you due to the circumstances.” Was all they told you.

“What circumstances are those?” You asked.

It was your therapist’s turn to take a second to respond and think about how to answer your question.

“It seems like you’re dealing with a lot of stress right now. Not only is moving one of the most stressful things, but I don’t think that you’ve been able to properly process the death of your friend.”

You had been waiting for this to come up, some kind of cue that made it seem like you were seeing things or acting crazy about your friend’s death.

“How am I supposed to process their death when they won’t stay dead?” You asked, genuinely curious, what their thoughts were.

“Can you tell me who else saw the items from your friend?” They leaned forward with concern.

“Natasha saw the necklace, so did Steve and Bucky and Bruce.” You knew you had eyewitnesses for that, it could be corroborated.

“And their journal?” They continued to push. You hadn’t had a chance to show anyone the journal that appeared on your nightstand before it had gone missing as mysteriously as it appeared.

You just shook your head. They wrote something down on the paper in front of them as you watched with unease.

“I’m going to come over here and we can meet twice a week, just for a few weeks. Does that sound okay?” They asked as if you had a choice, as if you were allowed to say no. You could only nod.

“Can I go?” You didn’t want to be there in the first place, much less now.

“You can, and I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.” Your therapist stood to shake your hand, which you avoided, ducking out the door without a goodbye.

You took the stairs back to your room, wanting time to swear under your breath and say every nasty word you wanted to say to your therapist. You were still mumbling to yourself and cursing when you pushed open your door. When you flopped down on your bed, content to rot in bed for the rest of the day, you felt something underneath you. You rolled to your stomach, reaching behind you to see what you landed on.

This time when you held it up you laughed. The absurdity, the truly haunting aura that came with this object was too much of a coincidence to warrant anything besides unhinged giggles.

            It started when you decided to go for a walk by the river. The yellow leaves crunched underfoot, the sound of the river running over rocks, watching it glisten in the late afternoon sunshine was a welcome reprieve from the rest of your day. Something about walking softly through the woods and finding flowers to make a bouquet filled you with joy that seemed to be missing from the rest of your life. You closed your eyes, letting the sunshine and birdsong wash over you, until you heard the snap of a branch. You whipped your head around, to see a man in dark clothing approach you.

            “I think you dropped this.” The man told you, reaching out with one of your gloves in his hand. He looked eerily familiar, but you couldn’t place him.

            “Thank you.” You took the glove from his outstretched hand. There were rarely other people in the woods, you found yourself drawn to them for that exact reason. Another human was the last thing you expected to find. “Do I know you? You seem familiar.”

            The man chuckled to himself, then shook his head.

            “Not anymore.” He told you, the slightest smile turning up his lips.

            “What do you mean?” You asked him.

            “Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He shook his head. “I’m Jefferson.” He extended his hand again and you shook it, telling him your name. “We used to know each other, a long time ago.”

            You wracked your brain for any kind of context. You were sure you knew his face from somewhere, but it was impossible to pinpoint.  “It’s nice to see you again.” Your words held a question. Jefferson just laughed to himself.

            “Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to remember, that was another life.” The words he spoke confused you. His presence made you uncomfortable, the air seemed charged.

            “I should get back home, I was just taking a walk.” You told the man, suddenly eager to get out of his presence.

            “Let me walk with you.” Jefferson told you, not allowing another option. He took your arm and led you through the woods. A sense of déjà vu washed over you. Somehow, he knew where to find your car without asking. He waited until you unlocked the door before he leaned in.

            “I would be upset with myself if I didn’t ask you to dinner at my place.” He told you, too close for comfort.

            “You’re very kind, Jefferson.” You told him. “I have other plans tonight, I’m sorry.” His face darkened, his eyes flashed.

            “No, you don’t, quit lying to me.” His tone changed abruptly. He wasn’t asking, he was telling.

            “I really do, now I have to go.” You didn’t care that Jefferson was too close to you, or that your car door was open, you just wanted to leave. You turned the key to start the car, but nothing happened. Panic rose in your chest, and you turned the key again, while this strange man watched you with a smug look on his face.

            “My house isn’t far from here,” He gestured behind him, “just a five-minute walk. I can call you a tow truck from there.”

            You took the cell phone out of your pocket only to find there was no service. Nobody you could call or get ahold of, just the eerie man who found you in the woods. You thought about your options for a few minutes, Jefferson looked impatient while you mulled over what you could do. He finally smiled when you got out of your car, locked it and turned to face him.

            “Do you have service?” You asked, praying that his phone may use a different carrier that picked up a signal out here.

            “I don’t have a phone.” He replied, which you thought was weird. Everyone had a cell phone, who would come out in the woods without one?

            Realizing you didn’t have any other options, you followed Jefferson up the road for a few minutes, before walking up a driveway to a beautiful mansion.

            “You live here?” You asked the man.

            “It appears that way, doesn’t it?” He mused while pulling out a key and unlocking the door.

            “I thought this house was empty,” you told him, “I haven’t seen anyone come in or out of it since I’ve been here.”

            “I’m not always around, I get out when I can.” Was the only explanation he offered.

            His house was beautiful, gorgeous floors and expensive wallpaper, odd looking trinkets and teacups made the mansion look less cavernous and more like a home. You let him take your coat and followed him into the kitchen where he began to boil water for tea. You glanced around the kitchen, looking for a phone of some kind.

            “Can I use your phone?” You asked him.

            “Aren’t you going to stay for tea?” Jefferson sat uncomfortably close to you, placing a teacup and saucer in front of you.

            “Thank you.” You took a sip of the tea.

            When it touched your lips, it was like an electric shock surged through your body. It wasn’t like any tea you bought at the store, not like anything you had before. It smelled and tasted like home, but not the home you knew and loved, a different kind of home. Some kind of home you remembered from a dream. It was honeysuckle sweet, though you hadn’t seen him add any sugar. A sense of calm washed over you.

            “Where did you get this?” You put the teacup down on the saucer, forgetting where you were for a minute.

            “I made it.” He replied, surveying your face. You just nodded in silence, taking another drink. You hadn’t realized you finished your tea until Jefferson reached the teapot to refill your cup.

            “I need to call a tow truck.” This gesture snapped you out of whatever trance you were in.

            “Why would you do that? You’re home.” Jefferson cocked his head at you. You didn’t know what to say to that, you realized you shouldn’t have sat down with him, you should have called the tow truck as soon as you arrived.

            “Thank you for the tea, and for showing me your home, but I really need to get back to my car now.” You pushed away from the table and stood, unhappily noting that Jefferson was between you and the door.

            “Nothing is going to happen to your car, you should stay for dinner.” He wasn’t letting you any closer to the door, rather was walking you back towards the kitchen.

            “I really need to get back home, Jefferson.” When you said his name, his eyes changed. A beautiful smile lit up his face.

            “You don’t remember, do you?” He was close enough to touch a strand of your hair and tuck it behind your ear.

            “Remember what?” You could hardly form words. You just wanted to leave. When he heard your reply, Jefferson backed up, a sad look on his face again.

            “Our life.” He said simply, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.

            “You seem like a really nice person,” you lied, searching for an inch more room, “but I just met you, and I really need to get back home so I can go to work tomorrow.”

            His hands hovered, then he dropped them. He shook his head, then turned his back on you. Watching but not moving, you saw him leave the room, to return with a phone. He dialed a number and put it to his ear. After a minute he gave a description of your car, where it was and his address.

            “They’ll be at your car in about an hour. So, we have some time to kill.” He spread his hands across the counter, staring at you.

            “You said we met before.” You didn’t like how he was looking at you. It looked like he wanted to devour you.

            “A long time ago.” He finally turned away from you, clearing the teacups from the kitchen table.

            “Can you tell me where?” You probed; the feeling of familiarity was too much for your curiosity.             “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.” He looked at you again, surveying you, your body in a way that you didn’t like.

            “Try me.” You countered, holding his gaze. You watched him walk to the living room, weighing his words before he sat down on the couch. He gestured for you to sit beside him. You didn’t sit next to him, but on the chair across the living room table, so that he no longer blocked you from the door.

            “Do you believe in magic?” Jefferson asked you. He seemed so focused on how you would react.

            “I teach science.” You replied, trying not to laugh or otherwise make him mad about his silly question.

            “That didn’t answer my question.” He mused.

            “I believe there are things we can’t understand and can’t explain, but that doesn’t mean they’re magic.” You weren’t sure how to answer his question.

            “Are you sure about that?” The knowing look in his eyes made you think you gave him the wrong answer.

            “If someone wants to believe in magic, I won’t stop them.” You tried to recover from whatever conversational fumble you made.

            Jefferson turned his head and let out a dry laugh. “But you don’t?” He continued to question you.

            “I don’t know, I guess not?” You replied, eyeing the door.

            “What if I told you, you can’t remember who I am, because of a magical curse?” Jefferson’s eyes had a crazy look in them. It was as though he wanted you to say you believed him.

            “I think it’s probably time for me to head back to my car.” You stood up and walked quickly to the door before he could stop you. His face became clouded, his body language became cold. He took your coat from beside the door and helped you put it on.

            “I’ll walk with you.” He insisted on opening the door so you had no choice but to walk beside him.

            The two of you didn’t talk on the short walk back to the car, or when you arrived. It took another ten minutes for the tow truck to arrive, ten minutes that you spent in silence that seemed incredibly loud.

            “One of you called me out here?” A man in a large truck pulled up beside you and Jefferson, leaning out his window.

            “That was me!” You piped up. “My car wont start, can you help?”

            The man nodded and parked his truck in front of your car, then got out to start moving things around so he could pull your car onto the back of the tow truck. The entire time, Jefferson stared at you, you didn’t see him blink even once. Eventually the tow truck driver finished up, and when you were about to hand him some money, Jefferson gave him a credit card.

            “Thanks for coming, I know it’s a long drive.” He told the driver. “Put the whole bill on here, I don’t care how much it costs.”

            “Jefferson, I can’t let you do that.” You told him, but he held up his hand.

            “You can, and you will. I’m just lucky I found you.” His tone didn’t leave room for argument. You weren’t sure what he meant, or what to say, so you thanked him, and went to sit in the tow truck.

            It wasn’t too long a drive; the tow truck driver chattered your ear off and before you knew it you were back in town. You thanked him for the ride and left your car with the mechanic to figure out why it wouldn’t start. Storybrooke was small, so walking home from downtown didn’t take more than ten minutes.

            When you got home, you took off your coat and went to sit down, the weirdness of the day catching up. Your phone had a signal now, so you decided to look up the strange man named Jefferson who found you in the woods. Try as you might, there was no internet record of the man, no social media, no news stories, no birth record, nothing. Although he had been asking you weird questions, he let you in his home, gave you tea and called a tow truck for you. Maybe it really was just someone in Storybrooke you hadn’t met yet. Still, the feeling of knowing that man from somewhere was one you couldn’t shake.

            Later that night you wound down for bed, deciding to make some tea after a relaxing bath. Right next to the tea kettle you set to boil, was a square box of tea you hadn’t remembered purchasing. You shrugged and opened it, pouring boiling water over the tea bag in your cup. When you sat down to drink it, you realized it tasted just like the tea Jefferson had given you earlier. You went back to the counter where you left the box of tea, looking for a label. The box was white, with only a stamp on the bottom, which read “Made in Storybrooke”. If you had gotten it somewhere in town, it made sense that Jefferson would have something similar.

            As you relaxed and drank your tea, stories that seemed like memories took over your thoughts and ran through your head. The longer you stayed awake, the longer your mind raced. When your thoughts got too loud, you decided it was time to go to sleep, and let your brain get the rest it clearly needed.

“I’ve waited a lifetime to be with you. Please don’t make me keep waiting.” You couldn’t take any more of it. Jefferson wanted what he thought was best for you, even though you didn’t agree. All you wanted was him.

“You’re worth more than this, than what I can give you.” The look on his face was so heartbroken, you couldn’t stand it. You did what you knew would work, you pulled him into a kiss that made your heart soar.

“I want you, Jefferson.” You whispered when you broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his. “I don’t care about anything else.”

“You say that now-” you cut him off with another kiss.

“I traveled worlds to find you, to find my happiness. Don’t you dare try to talk me out of what we have.” Your words seemed to work this time, or maybe it was the kiss. The sorrow left his face, and a smile broke across it instead.

“Then let’s get you home.” Jefferson took your hand and walked down the path you knew so well. The flowers you planted stood bright in the window boxes, the garden was alive and beautiful in the yard, but all you could see was him.

Once you made it inside, you nearly jumped on him. He was yours, and you were his, and you weren’t going to let him go.

You woke with a gasp, your dreams felt so real. You looked around your room to make sure you were alone. There was nobody in your room, the house sounded empty. The fact that the man you met in the woods the day before starred in your dreams made you uneasy.

Not only was the strange meeting the day before fresh in your mind, but your lifelike dreams were as well, no matter how hard you tried to ignore them. Even worse, you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. Nevertheless, you had to get ready for the day, preparing to see your students, to socialize with your coworkers and shake off the strange dreams that lingered.

            Botany was your forte, but because there weren’t any universities in Storybrooke, you were happy teaching elementary science classes. The wonder and excitement of children discovering how the world around them worked was far more precious than bored university students trying to get through your class with a passing grade. Besides, it was fun to sit with kids and hear about their lives, a few of them would visit you after school and chat. You were used to Henry and Paige coming to visit during lunch break, Paige was enamored by Henry’s stories, and you liked them too, though you were sure to remind him that they were just that, stories.

            That day Henry brought his storybook when he and Paige came to visit you during lunch, the two of them giggling and pouring through the pages. Henry had a hard enough time as it was, you weren’t going to burst the fairy tale bubble he retreated to when he read his book. When the children let out a loud laugh you looked up with a smile. Henry looked happy for once, and Paige… Paige looked like a beautiful child who for some reason you wanted to pull close and hug. When she met your eyes with a smile, you felt a hollow pain shoot through your chest.

            “Are you okay?” Henry asked, when you didn’t respond to whatever question Paige had asked.

            “I... I forgot something.” You didn’t break eye contact with Paige until you shook your head, willing the painful feeling you got when you looked at Paige to go away. “I have a meeting I need to get to. Can you two find your way to recess without me?” You asked, unwilling to look back to Paige. Both children nodded and raced each other through your classroom doors. There was no meeting to get to, you were rather shaken by the feeling you had when Paige approached you. She was just another student, why was it that you felt like she was so important?

            The rest of the day passed in a blur, one class running into the other until the school bell rang. When your classroom emptied, you returned to your desk and held your head in your hands. Clearly the man in the woods yesterday had spooked you, and it was getting to the rest of your life. Since there was no more busy work, you readied yourself to go home, picking up your things and leaving school. When you got to your car you felt like you were being watched, so you turned and surveyed the parking lot. On the far end, you saw the movement that caught your eye. He was too far away to identify for certain, but a feeling in your gut made you think he looked like the man from yesterday, Jefferson. When your eyes landed on him, he got into his car and drove away, leaving you with no explanation.

            “It’s okay Paige, sometimes it takes more than one try.” You told her. Paige’s parents paid you to help tutor her in math. Twice a week you sat at her kitchen table going over worksheets while her parents chattered in the background. Her mother was making dinner, and it smelled delicious.

            “I don’t think I’ll ever get it.” Paige told you tearfully. The look on her face made you feel the same pang of sorrow through your heart you felt earlier that week. The look made you pull her into a hug and for some reason you couldn’t dream of letting her go. When you held her in your arms it was like a missing piece of your heart was filled. It confused you, so you pushed it away, aware that you were not her family, you were her teacher.  

            “Math is hard,” you told her, “I needed a tutor too, did you know that?” Paige dried her eyes and looked at you.

            “You did? But you’re so smart.” She replied, looking like she felt better already.

            “Smart isn’t about doing things perfectly the first time, it’s about practicing until you’re a master. And I promise, you’re going to master this math homework.” You assured her.

When she smiled it seemed like the warmth of the sun lit up the room. After another hour, Paige was so excited that she understood the math homework, she was nearly jumping with joy. You could have sat there all night and watched her play with her dolls now that she was finished with school.

            “Won’t you stay?” Paige’s mother asked you. “I always make enough for you, Paige loves having dinner with you.” She always asked you to stay, and sometimes you did, but not tonight. There was a bittersweet feeling you were steeped in; you couldn’t feel prouder of Paige and the progress she made, the time you spent with her, but you also knew this wasn’t your place, that she had a family that loved her, and you weren’t a part of that.

            “Thank you, but I have to get home tonight.” You told her mother, knowing you had to leave. Because if you didn’t leave then, you might not leave at all. Paige saw you out, saying her goodbyes. You didn’t give her a chance to hug you goodnight, you weren’t sure you wouldn’t pick her up and take her home with you.

            It was dark outside, so when you began to tear up when you got to your car, nobody could see you. Or so you thought.

            “Why?” You choked out to yourself, wondering where these maternal feelings towards Paige were coming from. Why did you suddenly care for her so much now, why was it so hard to see her with her family, to say goodbye? Something wasn’t right.

            “Because you love her.” A voice emerged from the shadows. You knew his voice from your dreams, though you wouldn’t admit it out loud.

            “She’s my student, that’s all.” You didn’t care that you were teary eyed, you just wanted to be alone. Jefferson stepped forward into what little light was left.

            “You know she’s more than that, you can feel it.” He told you, coming closer than you wanted him to. He seemed to like doing that, putting you in uncomfortable proximity to him. He could reach out and touch you if he wanted.

            “Why are you here? Why are you following me?” Your sadness became an anger that you turned to Jefferson, a man who had a funny habit of simply appearing from nowhere.

            “You’re tutoring her,” he said, “two birds, one stone. You’ve made it easier for me, at least twice a week.” His words scared you, pulled at some emotion inside you that you couldn’t place.

            “Are you watching me? Are you watching her?” Your voice rose, edged with hysteria.

            “I’m watching my family.” Jefferson replied coolly. “I’m making sure you’re safe.” His body language changed, he was no longer at ease, he was tense, and his jaw clenched. You didn’t feel safe. This man in the dark was watching you, was watching Paige, and you didn’t know just how long he had been. You backed up, touching the handle of your car door.

            “I don’t know you, and I want you to leave me alone.” You mustered as much courage as you could, panic rising. Instead of leaving, Jefferson moved closer.

            “You know me, and you’re starting to remember. You’re starting to remember everything.” He whispered against your ear. “And when you do, I’m not going to let you go through that alone. When you do, I’ll be with you. And I won’t leave you again.”

            You pushed against his chest as hard as you could, he stumbled backwards a few steps.

            “Leave me alone!” Your voice sounded loud in the quiet of the dark evening. You got into your car as fast as you could and locked the doors. He didn’t approach the car, he just stood there with his arms crossed, brow furrowed and watched you drive away.

            When you got home, you locked the door and checked all your windows, bolting whichever ones weren’t already locked. You pulled every curtain in your home, if Jefferson was going to be watching you, you weren’t going to make it easy on him. You considered calling the cops, but what were you supposed to tell them? That you thought some strange man has been following you, has been watching you? How could you expect them to do anything when you didn’t have any proof? You saw the man twice, and though he affirmed that he was watching you and Paige, could that hold up in court? Your word against someone else’s, while you held no evidence of a crime, didn’t seem to have a very promising outcome.

            It took you hours to relax, eventually you forced yourself into your nighttime routine of taking a bath, drinking tea and reading a book. Even as you drank your tea on the couch, you had a hard time focusing on the book in front of you. The lines on the page seemed to move, you read the same paragraph a few times before giving up. You sat in silence, unable to quiet your mind. You thought of the strangeness of the last week; Jefferson, your dreams, the indescribable feeling of hope and sorrow when you saw Paige. Yet nothing in your life had changed to spark these feelings, no event or unusual occurrence, besides meeting Jefferson in the woods.

            When you looked at the clock, you realized you spent hours on the couch thinking, the time seemed to have passed without you noticing. You still weren’t tired; your mind was loud. Even so, you had school in the morning, so you got pajamas on and ready yourself for a restless night. What little sleep you got was plagued by dreams, but this time they weren’t dreams of Jefferson, they were dreams of the mayor, Regina.

            “Did you really think I would let you have him? After everything I went through? After Daniel?” Regina pushed you down to the cold floor. “Did you really think I would allow you to be happy?”

            “Regina please!” You grasped the wall to stand, Regina’s laughter echoing around you.

            “I am your queen, and you will obey me!” Regina’s eyes lit up; her voice thundered.

            “I had nothing to do with Daniel!” She was picking a fight with someone who hadn’t raised a hand in battle.

            The mirth in her voice peaked when she came close and grabbed your throat.

            “Oh sweet, simple Alice. Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what you had to do with anything.” She whispered in your ear as you stood shaking. “What matters is that if I cannot have my happiness, you can’t have yours either.”

            Once again you woke with a start, breathing hard as if you ran a marathon. Was it the tea you were drinking that made your dreams so vivid, so real? You’d have to switch back to something that didn’t make you have dreams that woke you screaming. The clock read 2:15 am. The rest of your night was spent tossing and turning, praying for sleep that didn’t come.

            Your dreams confused you, but maybe that’s how all dreams were. The sleeping brain still didn’t make much sense to scientists or to you. You didn’t know Regina well, but she had always been kind and generous, she had helped you get your job at the elementary school. Hell, you voted for her in the last election, she had a great record and Storybrooke was a beautiful town thanks to her leadership. So why was it you had a dream she was hurting you, yelling at you? And why did she call you Alice? You knew analyzing dreams was pseudoscience, and dwelling on it wouldn’t help you get on with your day. You tried hard to busy yourself, focus on teaching and enjoying the company of the kids in your class, but you couldn’t shake your dreams.

            The next night you decided to take a sleeping pill, you couldn’t stand one more night of vivid dreams. It did the trick, you had a deep, dreamless sleep and didn’t wake once until your alarm blared. It was hard to drag yourself from your bed, to face the morning light, but you knew you had to. You felt responsible for the kids in your class, you owed it to them to show up and teach them each week. You weren’t going to let them down because you felt tired.

            “Paige’s mother called, she’s sick so she won’t be in class today.” The office administrator told you when you checked in with them before school started that day.

            A sense of dread overcame you. Was she going to be, okay? What kind of sickness did she have, could you help? The only thing on your mind was how much you wanted Paige to heal, you couldn’t stand the thought of her being sick.

            The day went by as usual, though the worry you held about Paige sat somewhere in your stomach the whole time. It was unusual not to see her or Henry when lunch came around, so you decided to seek him out during recess.

            “Henry!” You called to him across the playground. He happily skipped in your direction.

            “Hi!” He greeted you, smile on his face.

            “I didn’t see you at lunch, is everything okay?” You were concerned; if Paige was unwell there was a chance Henry was under the weather too. The two of them spent a lot of time together.

            “I’m okay, but Paige is sick, so I decided to eat with my other friends today.” Henry explained.

            “Do you know if she’s alright?” You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. You knew it wasn’t your place to ask.

            “She’s okay, I think she has a fever. She should be back by Monday, at least I hope so.” Henry was eying the other kids on the monkey bars.

            “I won’t keep you from recess, I’m glad you’re doing okay.” You told Henry, before walking back into the school.

            The second half of the day always passed quickly, and before you knew it the bell was ringing to let the children flood the hallways and leave the school. You too, wanted to leave and go home, do something you enjoyed, but there was paperwork and lesson plans that weren’t going to write themselves. It was dark by the time you were done, but the entire weekend beckoned you now that your Friday work was complete. You pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight, the low lights in the parking lot weren’t enough for you to see clearly.

            “She wasn’t there, was she?” This time he didn’t hide on the other side of the parking lot; he approached you with confidence.

            “I told you to stay away from me.” You tried not to let your voice betray your emotions. Jefferson didn’t seem to hear you, or he didn’t care.

            “She’s sick, she has a fever. They took her to the doctor today, but she’ll be better than ever soon.” You knew he was talking about Paige.

            “So, you’re stalking her too?” You spit in his direction.  

            “I told you, I’m looking out for my family.” Jefferson couldn’t say anything that made sense to you. “Doesn’t it kill you that you can’t be with her when she needs you?”

            The feelings of dread, of worry, concern came back to you. You hadn’t chased them off, they were waiting for the right words to make an appearance.

            “Come near me again, and I’ll call the police.” You were shaking when Jefferson put his hands on your shoulders.

            “Then why haven’t you?” he asked, a knowing tone in his voice. “I think it’s because you remember.”

            “I don’t remember anything, get off me.” It came out in a whisper, you couldn’t meet Jefferson’s eyes. You were sure he could feel you shaking.

            “I think you’re lying,” he replied, “and I don’t like it when you lie to me.” You closed your eyes when he got even closer, willing yourself the strength to push him away.

            “You’re insane.” Was all you could manage, finally stepping backwards and out of his grasp.

            Jefferson laughed, though you weren’t sure what was funny.

            “You have no idea.” He said with a smile. He slowly walked backwards, never breaking eye contact. Eventually he disappeared in the dark, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

            It was hard to get your keys in the ignition, your hands were shaking too hard. You sat back against the seat, giving yourself a few minutes to regain composure. If Jefferson showed up like that again, you were going to call the police. You didn’t care if you had evidence or not.

            That night your dreams were of Paige. Unfortunately, your dreams starred someone else, someone you didn’t want to cloud your mind, even in sleep. It was as though you were looking at them through a glass, but they couldn’t seem to see you.

            “Can I pour you some tea, Papa?” Paige asked, pretending to pour tea into his cup. She was surrounded by stuffed animals that looked homemade.

            Jefferson mimed drinking the tea Paige pretended to pour.

            “Is your tea good, Papa?” She asked from across the table they sat.

            “It’s delicious, Grace.” Jefferson told her, a wide smile on his face. “It’s always an honor to be invited to join your party.” Paige let out a giggle, and helped her stuffed animals drink their tea.

            “When will Mama be home?” She asked Jefferson. He gave her arm a squeeze.

            “She’ll be back once she has ingredients to make more tea for us.” He told her. His head turned, and he looked straight through you, like you weren’t there.

            “I love you, Papa.” Paige told Jefferson. He looked at her with the most love and affection you had ever seen on someone’s face.

            “I love you too, Grace. Mama will be home soon, and we can have a magical evening together.” He picked her up in a hug and spun in a circle. He put her back down and ruffled her hair.

            Once more, he turned and looked out the window. This time you swore he saw you.

            At least it was Saturday, the vivid dreams and unsettling sleep wouldn’t affect the way you did your job. It was hard to wake up, when you did your thoughts immediately brought Paige to mind, you thought about her as you stumbled through your morning routine.

            The sun was lighting the sky, the small town of Storybrooke looked lovely in the morning glow. You slowly walked down the street, stopping to look at different items at the farmer’s market. You got fresh fruit and some flowers, hoping to make a garland with the vibrant colors to hang on your door. When you reached out towards a stuffed rabbit that you thought Paige would love, your hand brushed someone else’s. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

            “Alice.” Jefferson breathed out, looking at you.

            “My name isn’t Alice.” You withdrew your hand and glared.

            “Of course, my mistake.” The way his head cocked in amusement didn’t sit well with you.

            “You’re following me in broad daylight now? Isn’t that risky, even for you?” You asked him.

            “I’m not following you anywhere, it’s a beautiful day and I wanted to see what was at the market.” He shrugged, not admitting to his schemes.

            “So, it’s a coincidence that we’re both here?” You didn’t believe him.

            “I don’t think so.” He looked at you with amusement. “I think we both thought Grace would love this stuffed rabbit, and we wanted to get her something while she’s sick.”

            “What are you talking about? I don’t know a Grace.” You told him. He ground his teeth, though you weren’t sure what you said to upset him.

            “Paige.” He spit out her name like it was a dirty word.

            “Look, I don’t know who she is to you, but you need to leave her alone.” You felt scared for Paige. This man could do whatever he wanted to anyone else, but you’d be damned if he hurt Paige.

            “She’s to me what she is to you.” Jefferson seemed to speak only in riddles.

            “She’s, my student.” You told him.

            “Do you worry this much when any of your students are sick? Do you go to the market to find your other students toys they love and make sure they get them?” Jefferson questioned. It seemed like he knew the answer.

            “Why are you here? Why is it that you appeared from nowhere one day and now I can’t get rid of you?” You were so tired of him, and he had hardly been in your life for more than a couple weeks. The man’s face darkened, he looked more serious than you had seen him before.

            “Look.” He pulled you by the shoulder to face the clock tower at the center of town. “The clock started moving again, things are changing.” Jefferson searched your face for any sign of recognition, anything that might hint you understood him. But there was nothing.

            “Clocks always move, that’s kind of their thing, they keep time.” You pulled out of his grasp and started to hurry away.

            “Tell me about your dreams then!” Jefferson yelled after you. His words made you stop. You hadn’t told anyone about your dreams, you didn’t even want to think about them yourself, they had simply been too strange to consider.

            “What do you know about my dreams?” You hissed at him. You seemed to say exactly what he wanted to hear. A real smile spread across his face instead of the confident smirk he wore before.

            “I know they’re not dreams.” He replied, all too confident.

            “What?” You wanted him to say something that would make sense, something that would reveal his motive, or give you any idea as to why this man suddenly appeared in your life and wouldn’t leave. He approached you again, this time seeming frantic. When he took your shoulders the look in his eyes was so intense it scared you.

            “The clock is moving again; the curse is weakening and you’re remembering.” Jefferson looked close to tears; the way he said it made him sound so sincere. But dreams were dreams, and this man was crazy.

            “Stay away from me.” You backed away, not turning until Jefferson was lost in the crowd.

            You were still rattled when you got home. You tried to calm your breathing while you put away your groceries, but it wasn’t easy. You realized you forgot to purchase the stuffed rabbit you knew Paige would have loved, but when you remembered the circumstances, you figured you were better off. You’d find something else she liked and not have to deal with Jefferson when you did.

            Still tired, you made some tea and started to weave the flowers you bought through each other until they began to form a wreath. The birds sang through the open windows, the sun lit your face and the tea you were sipping made you warm. Your fingers got slower and slower, your head felt heavier, your eyes began to drift shut.

“She’ll never know, besides you’re doing her a favor.” Regina circled Jefferson like a cat circling a mouse. She knew she won the game before she started playing.

            “She told me not to trust you, that you want to hurt me.” If he sounded just a little more sure of himself, Regina might have backed off, but she heard the tremble in his voice and pounced.

            “You think this is good enough for her? Living in a hovel, your family wasting away in poverty? Your wife was a princess, she had everything she could ever want. Do you think she’s happy like this?” Regina knew how to twist people’s minds with her words.

            “She doesn’t care.” Jefferson insisted, “she said-”

            “She said whatever she wants you to believe, but you aren’t really that stupid, are you?” Words from the Wicked Witch always sounded better than the truth.

            “I’m not leaving them; I made a promise.” He crossed his arms in Regina’s direction.

            “Well, well, it looks like my sister made an honest man out of our dear Mr. Jefferson. How surprising.” Her voice was honey and vinegar.

            Jefferson didn’t want to admit it, but her words planted poison seeds in his mind. He stared at a drawing of you and Grace on the mantle.

            “When you’re ready to provide your wife and daughter the life they deserve, you know where to find me.” Regina brushed past Jefferson, closing the door in his face.

You woke with a scream. You clutched your chest and spilled the now cold tea across the wreath of flowers you were weaving together. What was happening to you? Why couldn’t you get a minute of peaceful sleep, and why did your dreams seem so real? Like they were memories, like you could reach out and touch them?

You stood to find a towel for the tea you spilled, abandoning your flower wreath. The sun was low, the clouds streaked with deep purples and pinks created a masterpiece of the sky through the windows. You found yourself staring through the sight before you while you cleaned up the tea, unable to be present in your reality. Some part of you was still entertaining the dreams that plagued you daily.

Who was he, to you? Why did Jefferson star each night in your dreams, why was Paige wrapped up in them, and why was Regina? Had they been a passing phenomenon it would be easy to ignore, but these dreams didn’t seem to stop. Unless you were heavily medicated with sleeping pills, but that wasn’t sustainable. You decided to pull out photo albums you made years ago. They contained pictures of you when you got to Storybrooke, of the children in your class, of the teachers and staff, and your friends around town. You scoured the pages, searching for anyone that resembled Jefferson, but you found nothing. The man was a ghost.

The rest of your day was wholly unproductive, you weren’t present when you made dinner, you could hardly get through a few pages of your favorite book. You attempted a lesson plan for the following week but the wires in your brain weren’t connecting. Even mindless tasks like laundry were hard to pay attention to. Eventually you gave up, took out the trash and sat on the couch in front of the TV, content to listen to something mindless to get through the rest of the night. The prospect of going to bed scared you so you stayed up until your eyes began to close and the teacup started to slip from your hand. Finally admitting defeat, you dragged yourself into bed and hoped beyond hope to find some peace.

“Regina was here.” It was an accusation from your mouth, not a question.

“She was.” Jefferson was tight lipped. He knew how dangerous your sister was. “She offered me a job.”

            “A job you’re going to turn down, right?” You were scared, Regina never came bearing good news, or good jobs. She hated that you moved away from her grasp, had a husband you loved, a child. She was jealous and had been trying to ruin your happiness since you found it. Jefferson simply sighed.

            “It’s the last job she needs me for.”

            “It’ll always be the last job she needs you for! How many last jobs will she ask you to do?” Your voice rose in hysterics; there was no such thing as one last job with Regina. Not while she wore the crown.

            Jefferson approached you and rubbed your arms, attempting to placate you.

            “I’m not going to take it, I promise.” He assured you with a kiss on your forehead.

            “She wants to hurt you.” You whispered, tears behind your eyes. Your sister would never offer anything without some kind of pitfall.

            “All I want is to keep you and Grace safe, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Jefferson assured you.

            “She won’t keep you safe, Jefferson, she won’t keep any of us safe.” Instead of replying he pulled you closer, resting his chin on your head while he held you tight.

            “I love you, that’s all that matters.” He murmured against you, “I won’t let either of you go, not for anything.”

            You closed your eyes and allowed his soothing words to warm you. Jefferson always kept his word.

When you woke you felt bone cold. Bone cold and exhausted.

“That’s it, I’m done with these dreams.” Glancing at the clock you realized it was almost three in the morning, but you didn’t care. You had a feeling he would be up anyway. If Jefferson wasn’t going to respect your privacy, you didn’t think you owed it to him. You threw on a pair of pants and a tee shirt and found your car keys.

“Hello?!” You pounded on the door for what seemed like the thousandth time. The one time you were trying to talk to him, he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Hardly the person I expected to be knocking on my door this late.” Jefferson appeared from the night as he always did. You could never tell where he was coming from or how he managed to sneak up on you every single time. He surveyed you, your messed up hair, your wide eyes and shaken body language. “What are you doing here?” The night air was as cool as his words.

You realized you hadn’t prepared anything to say, you had woken and left your house in such a rush that any words you had thought of once before were now stuck in your throat. For a second you sputtered, opening your mouth before closing it again. Jefferson stepped closer, his nose nearly touched yours, you could feel his body heat in the cold night. You should have been scared, part of you was, but part of you knew he could give you what you needed.

“You’re afraid of me.” Jefferson spoke the obvious, watching how your body shook millimeters away from his own. “Why are you here?”

            “I am afraid of you.” You didn’t care to put on a façade, you were too tired, too scared, too confused. Too haunted by Jefferson’s face to sleep through the night. “But I keep having dreams and I need answers.”

            “You still think they’re dreams.” Jefferson surveyed you while he unlocked the door. You let him wrap his hands around your wrist and pull you into his home.

There was dread when he slid the deadbolt back into place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You let him guide you through the house and sit you on the couch. You watched him through a fog, but it felt so familiar. Flashes of your dreams came in and out of vision. The vase of flowers on the table were the same as the ones that bloomed in your dreams, the tea pot that had begun to whistle you swore was the one that Jefferson and Paige were playing with a few nights past. What sent a sick feeling into the pit of your stomach was the drawing on his mantle. It was of you and Paige, both sitting together in a rocking chair, smiling wide. The one that had been on the mantle when you dreamt of Jefferson and Regina.

You blinked when he sat in the chair opposite you, looking at you while he sipped steaming tea. It was hard to convince yourself you weren’t dreaming right now. But it was too real, you could hear your breathing, feel the chair beneath you, much as you wanted it was no dream. Jefferson didn’t speak, he just watched you sit in your own discomfort. Deciding to forgo the tea, you finally spoke up.

“Why can’t I stop dreaming about you?” It was the first time you admitted to anyone, even yourself that you couldn’t get him off your mind.

“I don’t think you’re dreaming.” Was all Jefferson had to say, looking smug and happy in his seat.

“No?” You asked him, not surprised that he wouldn’t even give you half an answer.

“No, you’re remembering.” He seemed to like watching your discomfort when he refused to elaborate.

“Can you give me something?!” Your voice rose, you hadn’t realized how close to losing it you were. Weeks of lifelike nightmares that led you to the house of the man that had been stalking you, and you were hardly making the best decisions. You realized you shouldn’t have come here. “What is all of this?” You gestured wildly to the flowers on the table, then to the drawing of you and Paige.

Jefferson sighed, seemingly unsatisfied by your questions. Instead, he stood and pulled you up with him, so that the two of you faced each other. It was as if he were looking through your soul, looking for some piece that you swore didn’t exist. Even though he couldn’t seem to find what he was looking for, he still leaned in closer.

            When he kissed you, something happened. You weren’t sure what, but you felt that something had ripped you out of the dream you were walking through. Like you had been sleepwalking for years and now you were shocked back to life. As cliché as fairytale stories were, it felt like his kiss had woken something inside of you.

            “Jefferson?” You reached up to touch his face, you didn’t understand how you could have forgotten it after all these years. how could you have forgotten your husband? Looking at him through new eyes you felt a sense of relief, of love, of comfort. Then came the pain.

            “Alice.” He smiled against your lips, the recognition in your voice made his eyes prick with tears.

            “You were, I was…” you stood still in shock.

            “You were here, you were under a spell but you’re here.” Jefferson held you close to his chest and stroked your hair.

You couldn’t stop the tears as all the memories that were unlocked flooded back at once. Memories of Jefferson, of your daughter Grace, not Paige, of your home, the life you built together. When you closed your eyes, you could see where you belonged; your cottage, your garden, your living room filled with Grace and Jefferson’s laughter. You could remember swaying with Jefferson in the dining room to music you could hardly hear, chasing each other in the woods, collapsing into fits of laughter once you were caught.

You remember being pregnant, having Grace, knowing that you would do anything, anything in this world or any other to have your beautiful family by your side. You remembered Regina coming to talk to Jefferson, and that you warned him to stay away from her. The last thing you could think of before you opened your eyes in Storybrooke was tucking Grace into her bed with a quilt you sewed for her, telling her to have sweet dreams and that you and her father would wake her in the morning. You didn’t know how long it had been since you put her to bed, but it was far, far longer than the next morning.

At some point you started sobbing, so Jefferson sat you down on the couch and simply held you. He knew how it felt to remember. If he hadn’t seen it coming, felt the curse weakening, he never would have sought you out. He wasn’t going to force you to live with the awful memories of having your daughter ripped away. Jefferson couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason you had to look at Paige every single day and know she wasn’t really Paige, she was your daughter named Grace that you could never have back. But he felt it, he saw you begin to doubt yourself, felt the magic beginning to wane, slip away from Storybrooke through the leak Regina sprung.

You were scared. Scared of yourself, of your mind, of everything that had been happening. Honestly, you didn’t know where to go. You didn’t want to go back to your house and finding a new place to live was too difficult to be an option. You knew you weren’t going home after you left Stark tower, it didn’t seem safe. You found yourself driving to the botanical gardens. Without thinking you walked through the beautiful plants until you found yourself on a bench in front of a pond full of lily pads.

            The air was clear, you could hear the wind and the frogs croaking from the pond in front of you. There was solace for a few moments, nobody was around to question you or your sanity. That was, until you saw someone in your peripheral come sit down on the bench next to you. You didn’t wonder how he found you, but you did wonder why.

            “Why are you following a crazy person around?” You were annoyed, you wanted a break, a moment away from everyone who thought you were losing your mind.

            “I never said you were crazy.”

            “But you’re thinking it.” You wouldn’t turn to look at him, you knew what he was thinking. You were so tired of people being worried about you.

            “How would you know what I’m thinking?” Bucky shifted to face you, so you did the same, even though you didn’t want to.

            “If you don’t think I’m crazy, why are you here?” You glared at Bucky, upset he would ruin your few precious moments of peace.

            “I’m-”

“Don’t you dare say you’re worried about me.” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence. You were sick of pity.

Instead of speaking Bucky stopped looking at you and put his hands up in defeat. He didn’t say anything else, so the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. You weren’t sure how long you sat and listened to the frogs, watched the lily pads, but eventually the sky darkened the water, and it was time for the gardens to close. When you stood, Bucky mimicked your actions and began to walk to the parking lot with you. You finally decided to look at him when you reached your car.

“I’ll see you later.” You told Bucky. “I don’t know when later is, but I’ll be back eventually.” You knew your paid suspension wouldn’t last, but you weren’t sure when it would be over.

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Bucky looked at you with concern you wanted to smack off his face. You let out a dry laugh.

“That makes one of us.” You told him.

“Are you going home?” He ignored your statement. You let out a sigh.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” You admitted in defeat.

“You could stay with us, there’s plenty of rooms in that tower.” Pity. It was all you could hear, all you could see on his face. It was why you couldn’t go back.

“Sam told me to clear out.” Was the excuse you landed on.

“Sam wants you to be okay, he didn’t tell you to clear out.” Bucky countered. You knew it was the truth, but your pride was hurt, and you couldn’t trust your own mind anymore.

“Bucky, I need to go home, I need a shower and get some sleep. Thank you for sitting with me.” You didn’t know why he came to find you, he still hadn’t made his intentions clear.

“Are you going to be able to sleep?”

Your mind went to the bottle of sleeping pills in your drawer that Bruce prescribed you.

“I should be able to.” You didn’t want to share more than you had to, you couldn’t trust anyone anymore. It was getting under your skin. Bucky just nodded and closed your car door behind you.

“Get home safe.” Was all he said, the look in his eyes would stay in your mind until you got home.

You checked the camera tapes before you got out of your car. Nothing happened around your house all day, except the grey cat that lounged on your deck in the afternoon sun. Feeling safe enough to open the door, you walked into your house to find absolutely nothing out of place. It was the same as you left it that morning, down to the coffee cup you forgot to put in the dishwasher before you left. Instead of starting your computer and getting into the paperwork you knew awaited you, you flopped down on the couch in defeat.

“Do they know it’s you?” Steve asked over the dinner table he shared with Bucky.

“You mean, do they know I killed their best friend, or do they know I’m the one who’s been breaking into their house? Either way the answer is no.” Bucky liked playing his game. Change something in your life just enough to make you question your sanity, then put it back the way it was before anyone could validate your paranoia. He played this game before many times over the years, but this time he was having fun.

“Let me see it.” Steve told Bucky, who reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn journal. The one he left on your bedside table weeks ago, the one he took out of your drawer soon after.  Steve thumbed through the ink-stained pages, skimming the messy handwriting.

“This is gold mine.” He told Bucky, passing the journal back and taking a bite of his dinner.

Bucky pocketed it, knowing just how valuable little-known facts about your life were. Instead of engaging with Steve, he pulled out his phone to monitor the cameras he placed inside your house. Stark had cameras the size of a grain of sand, that would be nearly impossible for you to find, especially given your heightened state of unease. Technology would continue to surprise him.

“Quit holding out.” Steve held his hand out for Bucky’s phone. It showed you on the couch, face down. He could hear you crying quietly. “This is just sad, Buck.” He handed the phone back with a grimace.

“For now.” Bucky had his eyes glued to his phone, to you on the couch.

“I think you broke them.” Steve said with a look.

“So, did you get it figured out?” Steve looked up when Bucky came in the room.

            “It ended up being easier than I thought, thanks to you.” Bucky sat down across from Steve, watching him shuffle papers on his desk. “I thought you were done with that stuff.”

            “When punching bad guys ends, the paperwork begins.” Steve said with a chuckle. “I hate it too, but Tony wants my signature on everything.”

            “Screw Tony.” Bucky didn’t like his demanding attitude, it reminded him of his old handlers.

            “It’s thanks to Tony’s cameras that you’re able to play your game, don’t be so dismissive” Steve reminded him.

            “As if I couldn’t figure it out without his technology.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

            “I’m sure you could, but it certainly makes it easier.” Steve pointed out.

            “Yeah, yeah I get it.” Bucky crossed his arms.

            “Are you going to sit there and glare, or are you going to let me in on what the next step is?” Steve was used to Bucky’s sour attitude.

            “Alright, fine.” Bucky sighed and leaned forward. He could do it without Tony’s cameras, he could do it without Steve’s help, but Steve was right, they made it a lot easier.

            “These go to Steve, and these go to Clint.” Maria handed you two manila envelopes.

            “Anything else before I get going?” You asked her. You didn’t mind dropping off papers, it was on your way.

            “No,” Maria let you know, “thanks for your help.” You waved as you left.

            “Oh, shit I’m sorry.” You literally ran into Bucky when you walked around the corner, one of the envelopes fell open and the papers spilled across the floor. He bent down and helped you pick them up.

            “It’s okay,” Bucky said, “are you in a hurry?”

            “No,” you told him, “I haven’t been sleeping very well, I swear I’m losing my mind.” You said with a sigh.

            Since you stayed at Natasha’s you had been jumpy, hadn’t felt safe in your own home or your own bed. Even though Natasha and Clint had come over and looked through your entire home, it was too hard to settle. In theory, your fears made no sense, and you knew it. There had been nothing out of the ordinary for over two weeks, you had easy access to the cameras to assure you that nobody was coming or going from your house, and there had been no signs or signals that anyone was leaving more weird keepsakes from your dead friend. But still it was hard to feel like you weren’t being watched.

            “If you asked, I’m sure Bruce could get you some sleeping pills.” Bucky looked concerned for you, but you shook your head.

            “I always feel hungover when I take sleeping pills.” You had finally gotten all the papers back in order.

            “Which is worse,” he countered, “feeling hungover or not sleeping for this long?”

            “You have a point.” You didn’t want to admit it. “I’ll talk to him later.”

            “Do you need help with anything?” Bucky looked at you the way everyone had been looking at you for the last two months. Concern, confusion and a little bit of pity. You wanted to find a way to get everyone to stop observing you.

            “No, I’m good, thanks. I just have to drop these off then I’m heading out.” You told him. Bucky just nodded and continued down the hall. Maybe you would stop and see Bruce before you left. If getting more sleep would make people stop pitying you, then you’d give it a try.

            Clint wasn’t in the office he shared with Natasha, but that wasn’t unusual. You opened his top desk drawer and left the envelope for him with a sticky note that said, “Sign and return to Maria”. One down, you ventured down the hall to find Steve at his desk, knee deep in paperwork that never seemed to stop.  

            “Hey,” you greeted him, “I’ve got more papers for you to sign.” Steve looked up from his work with a sigh.

            “You know, I thought my job was all about putting bad guys behind bars. Turns out it’s mostly paperwork.” Steve ran his hand through his hair. You could see the boredom and tired look in his eyes.

            “That’s what you get for working with the government, lots of red tape.” You were sympathetic, paperwork took up most of the time you worked instead of actually solving problems that were causing the world to fall apart.

            “Are you doing okay?” Steve looked up and you saw concern that was both infuriating and a tiny bit comforting. You appreciated that everyone here cared about you, but it also infuriated you that they couldn’t just leave well enough alone. If there was something you wanted to share with them, you would. But when you worked with people whose job it was to find out secrets, it was kind of par for the course.

            “I’m going to see Bruce.” You told him. “You know I’ve been sleeping badly, I guess it’s time to do something about that.”

            “Good, I’m glad you’re getting that sorted out.” Steve looked pleased, the pity in his gaze vanished for the first time in weeks. “You’re no good to us if you’re too tired to fight.” He laughed, but you weren’t sure if it was really a joke.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” You asked Steve, already on your way out.

            “See you, get some sleep.” Steve called after you.

            You felt like you were hit by a train, it had only been half an hour since you took the sleeping medication Bruce prescribed you, and it was hard to stand up. You knew you had a lot of sleep to catch up on, but you didn’t think it would be this immediate. There were dishes in the sink you wanted to get done, but it was all you could do to drag yourself into your bedroom and collapse in bed.

            A raging headache woke you up, along with the blaring of your morning alarm. You hit the snooze button, and laid with your eyes closed, your head feeling foggy. When the alarm went off again, you dragged yourself out of bed and into the living room. You looked around your house, surprised to see the dishes done even though you didn't remember doing them, and that the coffee was set up. You hit the button on the coffee maker and sat on the couch in a state of limbo between awake and asleep until you could pour yourself a full cup of coffee and start the day.

            It took a shower and an extra cup of coffee to shake off the feeling of a hangover, but you pushed through the headache with caffeine and water. You quit yawning on your way to work, feeling rested for the first time in months. When you arrived, you pulled up your phone and looked at the cameras pointed at your house. You didn’t feel dread or anxiety when you looked and saw your peaceful house, maybe a full 12 hours of sleep was all it took for the anxiety to dissipate.

            When you walked into the lab, Tony immediately accosted you.

            “Why don’t I have Rogers and Barton’s signatures on my desk?” Tony looked mad.

            “I don’t know,” you replied confused, “why don’t you ask them?” It was unusual for Tony to be on your case this early in the day.

            “I did ask them. I asked Maria too. Maria told me you were supposed to drop off the papers for them to sign and you didn’t, so what gives? The Secretary of State needs those papers, Maria wouldn’t have asked you to do something if it wasn’t important.”

            “I gave Steve and Clint those papers yesterday, Tony. Back off.” It was too early for his hostility.

            “See, if you had actually done that, I might back off. But you didn’t, you left the papers and left the property. Just tell Maria you won’t help next time, and she’ll make sure it gets done, because apparently you have more important things to do.” Tony sounded mad as he looked.

            “Tony, I talked to Steve yesterday-”

            “And I talked to him this morning. He didn’t see you yesterday, and neither did Clint. You know what, I don’t have time for this. Would it kill you to do your job?” Tony reached up to his ear and started talking to someone else as he walked away from you in a huff.

            This whole thing confused you. You put the envelope in Clint’s desk drawer, and you handed Steve the documents he needed to sign yesterday, right in this office. The two of you had talked about how much of a pain paperwork was, how could Tony say you didn’t do what you clearly had? You figured you’d talk to Clint first, but to no surprise he wasn’t in his office. Steve was usually here at this time of day, so after a little bit of looking around you found him eating with Bucky and Sam in the kitchen.

            “Hi guys.” You greeted the three men sat at the table.

            “Hey,” Sam looked up from his breakfast. “Did Tony already talk to you? We needed that paperwork signed yesterday.”

            “Yeah, he did. But I gave Clint and Steve the envelopes yesterday afternoon, I don’t know why he thinks it’s my fault they weren’t signed.”

            All three men looked at you confused, then looked at each other.

            “You never came to see me yesterday.” Steve looked at you, clearly uncomfortable.

            “What are you talking about?” This whole conversation was pointless. “I handed you pages of documents that needed your signature, we talked about how much of a pain in the ass paperwork is, what do you mean?” You asked Steve.

            To your surprise, the men passed around even more worried looks. It was Bucky that spoke up.

            “You ran into me in the hallway, that’s the last time we saw you yesterday.” He insisted. “You said you weren’t sleeping, and that you had to go home.” Sam and Steve nodded in agreement. “It’s on the cameras.”

            “What are you talking about?” Was all you could manage.

            “What are you talking about?” Sam looked worried. He pointed at the counter where the manila envelopes Maria asked you to deliver yesterday were sitting. “I got those from Maria this morning, then had to hunt down Steve and Clint to get their signatures. She said you took the envelopes yesterday, but they turned up, unsigned, in her office a couple hours after you left. What’s going on with you?”

            You couldn’t say anything, you didn’t know what to say or do.

            “I gave you those papers yesterday, Steve.” You hated the way your voice shook with uncertainty, when you knew what happened. Or you thought you did.

            “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Sam stood up and crossed the room. He gestured down the hall. You weren’t sure what was going on, so you agreed with a nod and followed him to his office.

            Instead of sitting behind his desk, Sam sat with you on the couch. You knew what was coming.

            “Natasha told me you’ve had a hard couple of months.” Sam offered you some water.

            “Yeah, I guess.” You didn’t want to elaborate. But that was exactly what Sam needed.

            “Can you tell me what’s been going on?” He asked. You appreciated that he didn’t send you directly downstairs to the military appointed therapist.

            You wracked your mind for a way to tell Sam why you had been so off lately, without making him so worried he’d put you in the mental ward.

            “What did Natasha tell you?” You countered.

            “She told me some things, but I want to hear it from you.” Sam was a good counselor.

            “Someone broke into my house a couple months ago.” You would share the bare minimum. Sam nodded slowly.

            “I heard about that, I’m really sorry. I know I’d be nervous in my own house if I knew someone broke into it.” Sam sympathized. “Natasha also told me that Bucky changed the locks and set up cameras, is that true?”

            “Yes.” One-word answers weren’t what he was looking for.

            “How have things been since you’ve had some security?”

            “I don’t feel secure, someone has still been getting in and out of my house without the cameras picking them up.” You felt as crazy as you sounded. The look of pity from Sam didn’t help.

            “I’ve actually checked out some of the footage myself, you have a nice place.” Sam said.

            You glared at him. Uninvited eyes on your property did not make you feel better.

            “And?” You demanded.

            “It looks like you have a pretty cute neighborhood cat that comes around sometimes.” Sam said with a smile. He was trying to put you at ease.

            “So, you’ve seen nothing either?” You questioned. Sam sighed.

            “I know that you found something that belonged to your friend, and that it really worried you. I know you haven’t been sleeping well since then, and that you haven’t been acting like yourself. I also know that since the cameras were put up, there hasn’t been anything unusual happening at your house. I know that your house is safe.” Sam explained to you.

            “How can you know that? Sam, what are you saying? Can you get to the point?” You knew there was something else coming.

            “What I’m saying, is that you’ve been under a lot of stress, and it might be a good idea to take a few weeks of paid leave.” Sam put his hand on yours, but you pulled back.

            “So, you think I’m crazy?” You were mad now, but part of you understood. Maybe you were crazy. The only person who didn’t seem to think so was Natasha.

            “I think work has been stressful, and that we can all use a break sometimes. You have to help yourself before you can help others. When is the last time you saw a therapist?” Sam asked.

            “Maybe six months ago?” You had to think for a while.

            “Talking to someone you trust about what’s going on could help, you know.” The sympathy, pity, concern wasn’t just on his face, you heard it in his voice.

            “So, you’re telling me to stop coming to work and start seeing my shrink?” You didn’t want to hear this. What were you supposed to do if you didn’t work, sit around in your house where you didn’t feel safe?

            “I’m telling you that I think you should consider taking a few weeks of paid leave and take care of yourself while you’re at it. If you really don’t want to do that, then I’m going to have to send you downstairs, where the psychiatrist will have you take some mental health screenings, then write a report.” Sam looked unhappy; you knew he didn’t want to force you to go deal with all that.

            If Sam was concerned enough to send you to the psychiatrist, then he must really be worried. The last thing you wanted to do was go to the psychiatrist again and have them write a full report on your mental health. Those reports stayed on file, where anyone with the right clearance could read them. You’d have to go through another round of screenings with the same psychiatrist before they would allow you to come back to work.

            “So, you’re telling me to leave?” You sounded broken.

            “I’m telling you I’m worried. And that a mental health vacation could be helpful.” Sam put his hand on your shoulder, this time you let him.

            Looking up to the ceiling didn’t help, a few tears managed to fall without your permission. Sam held a tissue out to you, which you used to blot your misty eyes.

            “Do you still have their number?” Sam asked you gently, referring to your therapist.

            You just nodded and took some deep breaths. You sat in silence with Sam for a while, until you could compose yourself enough to stand up.

            “I guess I’m going home.” You felt dead inside, hollow. It wasn’t just you who thought you were crazy, it was Sam, Steve, Bucky, probably Clint, Tony and Maria too.

“I’m sorry.” You looked at Sam directly for the first time that day when you said it. His eyebrows creased with concern, and he pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t be sorry, okay?” Sam made sure you were still looking at him when he pulled back. “Just take care of yourself, and don’t worry about us. You’re officially off the clock.”

“You know, I’m perfectly capable of changing my own locks.”

            “Then why didn’t you?” Bucky asked, screwdriver in hand, pulling your old doorknob off the door.

            “I don’t know I just… I guess I didn’t think too much about it.” You admitted. When you got home a couple of weeks ago you hadn’t changed the locks as you promised Natasha, but nothing out of the ordinary had been going on. It didn’t seem like a good use of your limited time.

            “Natasha wanted someone to make sure it got done, and I was the only one without an excuse, so here I am,” Bucky shrugged.

            “Gee, thanks.” You replied.

            “I didn’t mean it like that,” Bucky told you, “We’re just worried about you, that’s all.” He tested the deadbolt and the handle a couple times before giving you both copies of the keys that came with the new lock. “Don’t give these to anybody.” He told you.

            “One of these is going to Nat, but I’ll keep the other one close.” You told him. “Thanks for coming over to help.”

            “Do you want me to give it to her? I’m on my way over to where she is right now.” Bucky offered.

            “Sure, thanks. I won’t see her for another couple days.” You handed him one of the two silver keys.

            “No problem, hopefully you can get better sleep now.” Everyone had noticed you were more tired than usual, jumpier even if you tried to hide it. “See you later,” He waved before leaving.

            It did make you feel better to have new locks, the front and back locks were changed, but nothing unusual had been happening lately. It was always easier to ignore whatever made you uncomfortable and move forward, though try as you might your mind kept gravitating back towards the necklace in your jewelry box. However, now that the locks had been changed your mind was ready to stop dwelling on it.

            “I don’t know, just pick any card. Whatever your heart tells you.” You held the cell phone to your ear with your shoulder. There was laughter through the line.

            “Whatever my heart tells me, huh?” Natasha was doing you a favor by picking up Clint a birthday card from you.

            “You know him best, pick out something he’s not going to hate, and I’ll sign it tomorrow when I see you, okay?” You told her, opening your door.

            “Copy that,” Natasha replied, “I’ll get one and see you in the morning.”

            “Thanks, see you tomorrow.” You told her, then hung up the phone. You managed to get all the groceries in one trip, feeling some silly kind of pride from getting all the shopping bags in one go.

            You put the bags on the counter, and slowly started to put away the groceries. You turned on the tv in the background for some noise, then remembered you didn’t take your medication that morning. Walking through the house, you found your medication on your bedside table, but you also found something you weren’t expecting.

            Sitting right next to your medication was an old journal you recognized immediately. It was your old friend’s journal, one that you had looked through many, many times since their passing. The problem was you had eventually thrown it out. Their mother didn’t want it, and you couldn’t bring yourself to read it for the thousandth time, you were ready to let the painful memories die. So why was it here?

            You took your medication quickly, then went back to staring at the old journal. You didn’t need to open it, you knew every page and every word written down, you memorized it and memorized it again a year ago. You could see the warped pages in the middle where a coffee mug had been set down and made the pages wet, you could see the black ink that made a puddle on the back cover, the worn book marker sticking out of the top cover.

            You couldn’t figure out why you had to reach out and touch the cover, maybe to make sure it was real, to make sure you hadn’t thought it up and it was some sick hallucination. The worn cover was solid under your hand, the bindings beginning to crack with time. It was definitely real.

You let the journal fall open, expecting it to open on the pages warped with coffee as it always did. You knew the words on that page, your friend had been writing about a camping trip you had taken and how the two of you caught frogs in the pond. But it didn’t open there, instead it opened to a page farther back. It fell open to the page your friend had written about their trip to Europe one summer. You realized the reason it opened there was because there was a polaroid set between the pages. It was an old picture of the two of you in your teens, looking baby faced and optimistic. The two of you had gone to a carnival in town and stayed until you had won each other stuffed animal prizes you didn’t need. You knew the picture, it had been among your things for a long time, until your friend’s mom had asked for it to be kept in a scrapbook. Of course, you said yes, but that was three years ago. This didn’t make any sense.

            By the time you came out of your room, the ice cream you got was melted all over the counter. You got lost in the journal and staring at the photo, time didn’t seem real while you were pouring over the contents. There were alarm bells going off in your head. What did it mean and why? All the anxiety that had been lost over the last few uneventful weeks hit you in full force. Who was doing this?

            It had been a few months since you picked up the phone and called your friend’s mom, but you figured now was the time. Maybe their mom left you the journal and the photo, she had a key to your house. You stopped yourself there. No, only you and Natasha had the new keys to your house, your friend’s mom wouldn’t have been able to just walk in, and it was hardly a thing she would do unannounced. When you looked at the texts and phone calls in your phone, there wasn’t a single missed call or text message from her you could find. Nevertheless, you picked up and dialed.

“Hello?” A voice you didn’t recognize answered the phone. This was the same number your friend’s mom had for the last 20 years, you had never once heard someone you didn’t know through the line.

            “Hi, I think I might have the wrong number.” You checked your phone, but it was the right number, you hadn’t misdialed.

            “Who are you trying to reach?” It sounded like a man, the voice much deeper than the one you were expecting.

            “Um, my friend’s mom.” You told the man her name, and he paused.

“She’s not here, do you want me to pass on a message?” The hesitation in his voice made you confused.

“Is this still her phone number, or did I make a mistake?” You asked the man’s voice.

“No, this is her, she’s just not available.” The response was short.

“That’s okay, I’ll call back later.” You didn’t want to leave a personal message with someone you didn’t know.

“She’s been busy with work, it may be a while until she has the time to make a personal phone call.” The man told you. It was a weird response; you hadn’t told him who you were or why you were calling. Besides why would she be too busy to answer her phone for “a while”?

“Can you just ask her to call me back at this number when she can? It’s kind of important.” You insisted. She always answered your calls or got back to you in a few hours.

“I guess,” the voice told you, “just don’t expect anything soon.” The line disconnected.

You stared at your phone in shock, the whole thing was uncomfortable.

You didn’t sleep very soundly that night, every noise had you sitting up in bed. Eventually you left the lamp in the corner on so you wouldn’t have to get up and run to the light switch every time you woke up. You hadn’t known what to do with the journal and the photo, so you shoved them in the back of your drawer, hoping they might disappear as suddenly as they had appeared in your home. Unfortunately, you had no such luck.

“Happy birthday!!” The room was filled with cheers and applause, congratulations aimed at Clint.

“You guys I don’t know what to say.” You watched Clint prepare to give some kind of speech from the back of the room. You were too tired to jump in on the festivities. Everyone was in good spirits, Natasha got Clint a card from you, and you showed up at his party, so as far as you were concerned the birthday obligations had been met. All you had to do was stick around long enough to seem polite.

“You’ve been yawning for weeks, what’s going on?” Steve appeared at your left shoulder.

“I don’t know, it’s a weird time I guess.” What were you supposed to tell him? That someone was toying with you for an unknown reason? That your best guess was someone was having some kind of sick prank at your expense?

“Come on, there’s gotta be more than that.” Steve saw through your lame excuses, you hated being in a room full of observant people.

“I don’t feel safe in my house.” You finally admitted. “Someone got in again.”

You watched the surprise turn to confusion, then anger on his face.

“But Bucky changed your locks.” Steve sounded like he didn’t believe you. “He also put cameras up, did you look at those?” This was news to you; you hadn’t seen any cameras and Bucky made no mention of them.

“He put up cameras?” You asked, confused as ever.

“Go talk to him, he’s over at the bar.” Steve pointed at Bucky, sitting alone at the end of the bar while everyone else swarmed the other trying to get a piece of cake.

“Hey.” You said quietly, sitting in the empty seat next to him. He nodded in response, making you lead the conversation.

“Did you give my key to Natasha?” You asked him.

“Yep, same day I changed the locks.” He was looking at the bottom of his empty glass. “Can we get two more down here?” Bucky asked the bartender as he was walking past.  “Why do you ask?”

A drink was placed in front of you, Bucky held up his glass to you before taking a drink.

“Steve said you also put up cameras.” The liquid burned your throat.

“Yeah, I did, haven’t you looked at them? Tony said you already have the camera application on your phone.” If Bucky could tell something was wrong, he didn’t seem to show it.

“Camera application,” you said under your breath with hint of a smile.

“What?” Bucky asked you.

“Oh nothing, lemme see what app I have.” You opened your phone and scrolled through your apps. Tony gave you access to the cameras in the basement lab, and in the common areas of Stark tower. When you opened the app, you saw a new section labeled “House”. You opened it up, and it showed five different cameras on your property.

“Thanks for doing that.” You told him, eyes glued to your phone.

“What’s wrong, why are you asking?” Bucky turned his attention to you.

“I just need to see…” you went back to the day before, to see when, how and where someone had gotten in your house to leave an old journal. “… nothing I guess.” There was nothing on the tape that showed anyone but you coming or going from the house. More unsettling, there was a camera pointed at every entrance and exit point your house had. Both doors had a camera, the other three showed all your windows, which were clearly locked.

“You’re acting more strange than usual, and that means something coming from me.” Bucky looked at you the way Steve had earlier, with pity and concern.

“Thank you for pointing that out.” You shot him a glare.

“I’m sorry, but what’s going on?” It sounded like he wanted to help, and if you didn’t realize just how insane this whole situation was, you might have told him.

“I should go,” you hadn’t taken your eyes off your phone, but gave him a glance. “Thanks for your help, Bucky.” You slid off the barstool and made your way through the crowd and out the door. You didn’t care about niceties.

When you got home, you sat on the couch for over an hour going through the camera footage on your phone. Looking at the previous day, you saw nothing out of the ordinary. You left for work in the morning, the mailman came and left two letters in your mailbox, a grey cat came and laid in the sun on your porch for about half an hour, then later in the day you came back. You could hear yourself talking to Natasha on the footage, asking her to pick up Clint a birthday card. Over and over, replay after replay and there was nothing. Nobody went up to your door, nobody knocked, nobody got close to your home. There was no tampering with the windows, no weird sounds or strangers, absolutely no clue as to how someone could have left your friend’s journal in your room. They would have had to go through either a door or a window, and the cameras didn’t even show a fly trying to get through the glass. You knew Steve had told you about the cameras to make you feel better, but you felt indefinitely worse.

Eventually you couldn’t stare at the screen anymore, you couldn’t replay the tapes one more time, there was nothing more for you to find. You sighed and rubbed your hands over your face. You skipped dinner at the party, so you pulled some leftovers from the fridge and went to change into more comfortable clothes. You wanted to look at the journal again, to see if there was anything remarkable that you missed, anything out of the ordinary. You changed, then went to the drawer you shoved the journal and the picture in. When you opened the drawer, there was nothing inside. You looked again, felt all around, but the whole drawer was empty, just like it had been before you placed the journal inside and tried to forget about it.

You didn’t know why you felt fear instead of annoyance at losing something else, but it was terror that made you stop looking. It was terror that made you look around your room, looking for cameras, for anything out of place, for anything to have been touched or moved. But nothing had been. Everything looked exactly like you left it earlier that day. Now frantic, you opened every drawer in your room, pulling the contents from them and tossing them onto the floor. You were determined to find that journal, you had it in your hands just hours before you left the house, where was it? A new wave of panic rose within your chest. You ran to your dresser and picked up the jewelry box that sat on top of it. You opened the box and looked in the back where you had shoved them. Try as you might, you could only find one necklace, the necklace that had your initials, the one without any blood.

You laughed to yourself at the absurdity of the entire situation. Maybe you had finally lost it.

“You’re always welcome to stay but do you want to tell me why you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Natasha asked you when you showed up on her doorstep.

“I think I’m losing my mind.” You studied your feet. Natasha laughed, but you were serious.

She let you in, and you began to explain the whole situation. The necklace, the journal, the fact that nobody had been seen coming in or out of the house. That there was nothing unusual except the gifts someone left in your house, and how they disappeared. You were glad Natasha had seen the necklace, and that you had taken it to Tony’s lab. Other people had seen it, had held it, you couldn’t be imagining that, not when there were multiple witnesses. Natasha looked as confused as you were, then she looked angry. She asked you to pull up the cameras and spent over an hour with you going over footage you had seen. She couldn’t find anything, an extra pair of eyes didn’t help.

“Stay here, and we can go look at your place tomorrow. I don’t like this, something isn’t right.” Natasha sounded determined.

“Maybe I finally lost it.” You felt crazy.

“No.” Natasha was firm. “I saw the necklace, I saw your open door, and that someone broke in. You’re not losing it, someone is playing games with you. We’re going to find out who it is.” Anger rose in her voice. “This isn’t right.” She repeated.

“Thank you.” You managed to choke out before breaking down in sobs. You didn’t realize just how much of a toll this was taking on your mental health.

Natasha put sheets and blankets in the guest room and made you take a shower to feel better. Just being out of your house made you feel better, as did the shower and clean pajamas Nat found for you. The two of you watched something mindless before you got tired and went to bed. You didn’t sleep great, but it was better than staying at home.

He watched you run out of the house in a panic, start your car and drive away. You were terrified. What he was doing was working. Now that he understood how they worked, it was easy to override the cameras pointed at your house, to turn them off, or run the same video while he unlocked your house and left a gift in your bedroom. The look in your face when you saw it was priceless, the fear he saw when you took the polaroid out was precious.

Your hand closed around the necklace instinctively, you ran back to your car, slammed the door and hit the lock button. You hadn’t realized you were hyperventilating or that you had started crying. You opened your phone and dialed Natasha without thinking.

“Someone’s in my house.” Your voice didn’t sound like your own, your head was spinning.

“What do you mean?” Natasha sounded surprised; you could hear the din from the party you left behind her.

“Someone is in my house Nat.” You breathed out into the phone, hearing your voice shake.

“Are you inside your house?” she asked.

“No.” It was a whisper.

“Get in your car and drive around the block, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You heard Natasha hang up the phone. You started your car and reversed down the driveway, trying to look at the road instead of the door to your house that was ajar, or the necklace clasped in your hand. When you were far enough away that you couldn’t see your home, you looked at the silver chain that left indents in your skin from grabbing it so hard.

You watched your friend’s casket close before it was lowered into the ground, eyes fixed on the silver, full moon pendant you got them years ago. You had a similar one in your jewelry box. You couldn’t count how many years had passed since the two of you got silly matching necklaces, a purchase you made on a whim while the two of you had taken a vacation all those years ago. The necklace was the last thing you saw when you said goodbye to them, so why was it clenched in your hand right now? Why had it been hanging on the door to your home? The phone rang, you knew it was Natasha. You didn’t pick up, instead drove around the block to find her, Steve and Bucky in your driveway. She put her phone away when she saw you pull up.

“Hey.” Was all you could say when you stepped out of the car. You hadn’t mentioned the necklace you pocketed; you didn’t want to.

“The house is clear, nobody’s in there.” Steve walked out of your front door, Bucky a few steps behind him.

“Are you okay?” Natasha was at your side, concern on her face.

“You’re sure?” You asked Steve, still shaken.

“It’s empty, we even checked the closets and your pantry.” Steve said, the same concern as Natasha on his face.

“Are you sure you locked your door?” Bucky asked. You gave him a withering glare.

“It’s been a hard day for you, he’s just checking.” Natasha replied.

“I don’t just forget to lock my door, Natasha, and I don’t leave it open when I leave the house!” Why didn’t she come alone, you would have preferred to investigate the house with just Natasha.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry.” She looked at you with sympathy. “Let me come in with you and we can look around together, okay?” She finally reached out and took your hand. You nodded to her in agreement.

“Thanks for coming, I’m sorry it was over nothing.” You glanced at Steve and Bucky.

“Better than just sitting around.” Bucky replied, his annoyance for social events clear.

“Are you sure you’re, okay?” Real concern was written on Steve’s face. You wondered how much he liked being a hero and how much was an act.

“Nat’s here, I’ll be fine, thank you for coming.” Your voice was tired, you could hear it.

“I got it from here guys, thanks for coming with.” Natasha told Steve and Bucky. They nodded, Steve got in the driver’s seat of the second black SUV in your driveway, Bucky in the passenger’s.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Natasha.” Steve told her, “Try to get some sleep.” He looked at you with some mix of pity and concern on his face. You were sick of that look.

Natasha entered the house before you did, gun in hand, making her way through each of the rooms while you waited in the living room. Steve and Bucky turned on all the lights, so you drew the blinds while Natasha checked your house, once again, for intruders.

“I don’t see anyone, or any other signs of a break in.” She came around the corner, gun holstered.

When you finally released your clenched hand, the necklace fell to the coffee table with a thunk.

“What the hell is this?” Nat reached around you for the necklace, holding it up in the living room lights. “Is this-?”

“Yes.” You cut her off. You watched her thumb rub over the dried blood that stained your friend’s initials. It wouldn’t come off without soap and water, you tried before they had been buried.

“How?” She looked at you, confused as you felt.

“I don’t know.” You sat down on the couch, exasperated, still feeling scared. Natasha went to the kitchen and turned on the tea kettle before finding a ziplock bag to put the necklace in.

“I’ll take it into Tony’s lab tomorrow, we can run some tests on it. Meanwhile I’m staying here with you.” She came to sit by you.

“Tests for what, Nat?” You asked her, the sadness, fear and exhaustion catching up all at once.

“Fingerprints, blood, DNA, anything.” She sounded determined to find something but just as confused as you were. “Anything that would tell us why the hell this ended up on our doorknob. You don’t just bury something to find it popping up three years later!”

You looked at her with disbelief. She had buried many people before, just to find them alive years later, this wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened.

“Do you want come to my place, or do you want to stay here?” She asked you, trying to gauge your mood. The tea kettle started whistling so she stood to turn it off, readying two mugs of tea.

“I’m too tired to go anywhere else tonight, will you stay here?” You didn’t like asking for favors, but tonight you wanted some modicum of comfort, of reassurance. You also didn’t want to stay in your house alone that night.

“Of course, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.” Natasha handed you a mug of tea. You appreciated the white lie; you couldn’t ever say Natasha wasn’t a good friend. You handed her the remote in silence, she put on something in the background while the two of you warmed your hands and hearts from the tea.

“I’m headed to bed,” you told her, not sure how long the two of you had been sitting in the living room, “the guest bedroom has clean sheets and blankets.”

“Thanks,” she nodded in your direction, “would it bother you if I stayed up a while?”

“Be my guest,” You joked, “thanks for coming. Have a good night, Nat.” you told her before you walked into your room.

You brought the necklace into your room with you, digging through your jewelry box to find its near match. It was in the back of the box, you hadn’t touched it in three years, but it looked the same as ever. The difference between the two necklaces were the initials carved into the back of the full moon pendant, and the rusty colored drop of blood that made your friends hard to read.

How was it that this necklace was in front of you? How was it that the necklace you helped bury was in your hand right now? Who got it, and how? More importantly, why did they leave it at your house, how had they unlocked the door? You supposed if someone could easily rob a grave, then it wouldn’t be too hard for them to pick a lock. But what the hell did it mean? Was it a warning, a threat, a sign? If it was, it was a bad threat, or warning, since there was no further context provided, there wasn’t a way to figure out what it meant.

It was hard to sleep, you were awake more than not, turning over and over, your mind wouldn’t quiet. You felt safe enough, Natasha was in the other room, and she would never let anything hurt you, but somehow you had a feeling you were being watched in your own home. What little sleep you did get was plagued by your friend’s face. It wasn’t all bad, you saw them laughing, you saw both of you clasping the matching necklaces around each other’s necks on the beach, then you saw them dead. You saw them in their casket, you saw the expression on their face, you felt the terror when you realized they weren’t going to stand back up, they weren’t able to respond, that they didn’t have a pulse.

You woke with a gasp; the vivid dreams startled you back to reality. The smell of coffee came from under your closed door, and you remembered Natasha had spent the night with you. Dragging yourself from under the blankets you made your way to the living room, both necklaces in your hands.

“Morning sleepy.” Natasha greeted you, a fresh cup of coffee waiting on the table.

“Thanks, morning.” You mumbled, needing some time to wake up.

“I heard you yelling.” Natasha looked over her own cup of coffee, searching for something on your face to give away the anguish you felt inside. Even though you were tired you kept up a neutral expression, wanting to leave the nightmares in the past.

“You did?” You pretended not to remember the nightmares you had.

“Yeah, a lot.” She didn’t buy it, she was too smart.

“I might have had some bad dreams, it wouldn’t surprise me.” You brushed her comments off, you didn’t want to get into how much you had been bothered by the previous night.

“Mmmhmm.” Was all she said in response.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, making and eating breakfast, cleaning up the kitchen, both of you showering and changing for work. Natasha stayed over enough that she kept some clothes in the guest closet. You lingered in the mirror, not wanting to go face the day. It was bad enough that most people you worked with knew about your friend’s death, so bringing their old necklace into Tony’s lab for blood and DNA testing would be public information soon enough. People would ask more questions, want an explanation, check in on you over and over. It wasn’t something you wanted or needed, what you needed was to let them go, let the past be the past and move on. But someone wasn’t going to let you.

“Well, its their DNA, their blood, same as last time we checked.” Bruce pulled back from the microscope he was using to examine the blood he scraped off the necklace.

“What about fingerprints?” Natasha insisted, not satisfied that Bruce had essentially found nothing.

“Just theirs, and yours,” Bruce nodded to you, “and the prints from the officer on the scene. It looks the same as it did a few years ago.”

“A few years ago, it was in the ground. Why is it not underground now?” You were hoping he could have found something that would tell you why it wasn’t six feet under.

“When was the last time you went and saw them?” Bruce asked you

“Yesterday. And the grave was completely normal, before you ask, nothing was disturbed or different than usual.” Bruce held up his hands when you glared at him.

“I’ll take a look at it.” Tony piped up from behind you, he didn’t seem to care about locked doors or private meetings. Why should he when he paid for it?

“I’d rather you not.” You told him as he walked up and shooed Bruce away from his own microscope.

“Why not, I’m not doing much today.” His brusque attitude made you bristle.

“Tony, this is kind of sensitive, don’t get yourself involved.” Nat spoke up from her seat beside you.

“I’m a sensitive guy, I can be sensitive.” Tony insisted, “I’m a parent now I have to be sensitive.” You simply rolled your eyes at him. “If somebody is robbing graves, I want to check it out, it sounds spooky.”

“Do whatever you want, Tony.” You told him, “But this is difficult for me and you’re a difficult person, so do it quietly.”

“Not another word.” Tony made a locking motion next to his lips and left the room.

“Great, we have that to deal with.” You put your head in your hands and took a deep breath.

“I’ll deal with Tony,” Natasha assured you, “you change your locks, and get some rest, promise?”

“I’ll take care of it after work, I promise.” That seemed to satisfy her. You heard her call to Tony when the door was closing.

Bruce looked through the microscope again, then back at you.

“I’ll take a closer look at it, there are still some tests I can run, try to see if there’s something we missed.” Bruce didn’t want to meet your eye; he didn’t want to tell you that he didn’t have an explanation.

You had already gone through this before and it nearly killed you. Bruce had already run all the tests he could, so had the police, so had Tony, so had Dr. Strange, and Dr. Selvig. Time and again, you heard the same thing from too many people. There wasn’t anything they could find that would point to a suspect.

Your friend had been kidnapped, then shot. Their body was found, their hands were bound and van they had been transported in was found. But nothing else. The car had no registration, tags or plates, the VIN was scratched off, so it turned into a dead end. The handcuffs were standard police issue handcuffs, which pointed to anyone with access to police or other standard issue handcuffs, which happened to be a lot of people in your life, so it didn’t really narrow down the pool of suspects.

There were no bullet casings, no weapon, no fingerprints, footprints, hair or skin left at the scene, or at their home, in the van, anywhere. There was just no evidence that anyone could find, try as they might. Over and over again, they came up with nothing. You watched some of the best minds try to figure out what happened, and you weren’t going to sit through that painful lack of clarity again.

“Bruce don’t torture yourself.” You gave him a sad look. “You did what you could, you all did.” Tired of being in the lab all morning, you got to your feet to get some real work done.

Three years. Three years and it hurt as much now as it did then, laying a flower on the grass below their headstone. One water droplet that you hadn’t noticed escaped from the corner of your eye landing on a petal. Knowing it would trigger more, you didn’t bother to wipe the tear away, you just made your way back to your car, biting your tongue. It worked until the door closed, and a shuttering gasp ripped through your chest, painful sobs let the rest of the tears you held start to fall.

You were glad the drive back home was one you knew well, you didn’t have to think as you drove, just tried to keep your eyes clear enough to see all the road signs. It was rare for you to let yourself feel like this, it was easier to keep emotions held behind a wall you put up in your mind. Unfortunately, something about the anniversary of their death and, leaving their favorite flower where they now lay beneath the ground, had created cracks. Once you pulled into your driveway you broke down, let the hurt consume you as you leaned against the steering wheel, not trying to hold back anymore.

It could have been ten minutes; it could have been an hour you sat there and cried. Your cell phone ringing brought you back to the world, to the tears on your face. You didn’t want to answer but it was Natasha, who knew you had a hard day.

“Hello?” You had tried to compose yourself, hide the fact that you were crying but it didn’t exactly work. Your voice ended up breaking on the second syllable.

“Do you want me to come get you?” she asked through the phone, sounding concerned.

“No, no I’m fine.” You sniffled, swallowing hard.

“We don’t have to go out, we can stay in tonight,” Natasha usually didn’t baby you, but the way your voice sounded made her hesitate.

“I just need to shower, and I can meet you at the restaurant.” You assured her. You weren’t exactly sure why you felt the need to pretend you were okay, maybe it was to prove something to yourself, maybe it was to repress the hurt you were feeling. If you acted like a normal person maybe you’d feel it too.

“Do you want me to pick you up, so you don’t have to drive?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to agree, knowing that having your own car would make a quick exit easier. Sure, you’d go to dinner with her and everyone else, but you weren’t sure how long you could pretend.

“I’ll see you there at six, okay?” It was more a reassurance to yourself than Natasha, you felt like you had something to prove. That you could be okay, that you would be, that their death wasn’t going to get to you. You weren’t sure who you had to prove it to though.

You ended the call and collected your things before opening the door. There wasn’t much besides your bag, but you fumbled with your keys and dropped them in front of your doorstep.

“Fuck,” you muttered, reaching down for the keys. When you put the key in the lock, the knob turned, and the door opened. This confused you; the door had been locked when you left, hadn’t it? Even with therapy, grief was making you lose track of the little things, you were sick of it suffocating your life. Making sure to lock it behind you this time, you walked quickly to your bedroom to get ready for dinner.

“You look great, I’m so glad you could make it!” Wanda was waiting by the door to give you a hug when you arrived. You wondered if Natasha told her to wait by the door so she could get a read on your emotions that evening.

“Thanks Wanda, it’s been too long. It’s so good to see you.” The restaurant had been reserved for all of you, empty of patrons except those personally invited by Tony Stark. This unfortunately meant you knew everyone there and wouldn’t be spared the interrogation on the day everyone knew as the anniversary of your friend’s death. You didn’t want more apologies or well wishes, you wanted everyone to stop talking about them and be allowed to move on.

Sometimes you didn’t know how you were expected to remember so many people’s names. At some point other people had to have a limit too, right? There were so many people you had to pretend to know and engage in painful small talk with whose names never came to you. Thankfully Natasha kept you from too many awkward conversations, and kept you close to the people you did know.

You lasted about 90 minutes, put on a good enough show that nobody realized you didn’t want to be there. You stepped back and allowed yourself a break, spying some unoccupied couches that looked much quieter than making polite conversation. Sitting with your back to the room allowed you to take in the view from the restaurant situated on the very top floor of a skyscraper. The city was gleaming below you, lit up in its fluorescent glory. Sometimes you missed the city, but the loud, fast paced lifestyle wasn’t for you anymore, maybe when you were younger, but not anymore.

You saw movement at the corner of your eye, then felt someone sit down on the other side of the couch. Bucky turned and nodded to you, before looking at something outside the window. You didn’t mind Bucky, he didn’t talk too much or pry, he was short on words and the expected fake politeness that was often expected in human interaction. The two of you sat in silence for a while, Bucky sipped his drink and stared out the window, you enjoyed the silence and brief respite of the room behind you.

“Can’t you guys at least pretend to have some fun?” Sam sat down on the couch across from the two of you, a smile on his face. You liked Sam, he was a good friend and a good man, and he really liked to talk. A lot. Tonight was not a night you could continue to fake conversation, let alone more fun.

“I am having fun.” Bucky said in a monotone and looked at Sam without the hint of a smile.

“You’re sitting in the back of the room, in silence.” Sam pointed out.

“I pretended to have fun for an hour and a half, I’m wiped out. I’m sorry Sam.” You closed your eyes and leaned your head back. You didn’t want to chat; you needed a break.

“Promise not to leave without saying goodbye?” He asked you, recognizing a lost cause when he saw one.

“I’ll say goodbye before I head home.” You acquiesced, dreading the round of goodbyes you’d have to make so as not to be rude.

You watched Sam leave, before going back to watching the city.

“You good?” Bucky’s voice from the other side of the couch surprised you, it was unlike him to ask a question like that.

“Yeah.” You lied, turning your head to look at him. There was a small crease between his eyebrows, but his face didn’t give anything else away.

Bucky nodded and made a humming noise, then looked out the window again. That was the kind of concern you appreciated, instead of a long conversation with someone about things you didn’t want to talk about. You turned back to the window and enjoyed comfortable silence together.

You made it until about nine o clock, it had been torturous to wait for an acceptable time to leave. You dreaded knowing that there were so many people you had to stop and say goodbye to. Deciding to start your goodbyes off on an easy note, you turned to Bucky.

“Goodnight, have a nice night.” Was all you needed to say, no complaints, that you wouldn’t stay longer from him.

“You too.” Bucky nodded his head in your direction, and that was it.

The rest of the goodbyes were irritating and drawn out, everyone wanted to talk to you for five more minutes, to tell you one more story, to get you one more drink. It took too long to get through everyone but finally you made it to the elevator. You stepped in and pushed the parking garage button, but Steve’s hand stopped the doors from closing. Sam needed to go to his car too, and Steve decided to go down with him. Somehow you got through the longest elevator ride of your life with two of the happiest chattiest men on the planet. You felt bad about being annoyed by their happiness and laughter, they were having a good night, usually you could appreciate other people’s joy. But after the day and evening you had, you just wanted to go home. You waved goodbye to them and got in your car, ready to get home and sink into your bed.

Stomping boots, banging cups, plates, silverware, the noise became unbearable. The doors opened wide and another dozen warriors poured into the hall, doubling the noise and sense of urgency. Scared by the sudden din, you turned to see the other’s reaction. Odin was happily clapping along, Thor banging his hand on the table, voice shouting louder than anyone else. Loki clapped beside you, catching your eye with an amused look before you turned back to the unfolding festivities.

Several of the feast guests had paired off and begun fighting, the others yelling louder and throwing coins around. You watched with distaste as these grown men of Asgard fought themselves in their own halls, in the presence of the Allfather. The entire scene was deeply distasteful. There was nothing to do but watch, as eventually the scrimmages were won, and the men limped back to their seats. The relief you had thinking it was over was short lived. Two fully armed warriors began to face each other in combat in the middle of the room.

The scene before you was frightening, this was not the Asgard you grew up in, the place you loved and felt safe in, this was something much darker. The clashing was harsh on the stone and metal that made up the walls of the new throne room. The paintings, tapestries, colors and light that lit up the old throne room were gone, the bubbling of fountains and laughter of children was replaced with screaming men and the sounds of battle.

Food was knocked off the feast tables as the warriors fought in the circle they made. Men were yelling and screaming, there was little to do but sit back and try not to watch. A raucous cheer brought your eyes back to the fight, one man had gained the upper hand and had the other on his back at sword point. Glad that it would soon be over, you waited for the man to yield so they could leave. To your horror, he was given no chance to yield, the man quickly slit the other’s throat, spilling blood across the stone floor.

Your breath caught in your throat, such a sight had you reeling. The great hall was a place to break bread and come together as a family. For blood to be spilled on the floor was an affront. The spilt blood seemed only to encourage the guests. Loki’s hand on yours made you jump, but you squeezed it and closed your eyes against the slaughter. You waited until the noise died to open your eyes, focusing on Odin’s voice.

“Warriors, soldiers, the strength of Asgard!” Odin’s voice boomed through the hall. “And family,” he said in a lower tone, nodding to where you sat.

“You have proven yourselves both in my home and on the battlefields. At dawn we shall leave our glorious halls behind, to journey to Svartálfar, and destroy the evil, dwarves and elves who threaten to destroy our homes!” The cheers around you shook the stone hall and sent vibrations through the floors. You were bewildered by this declaration from Odin, from the reaction it garnered around the room.

Svartálfar had never been at war with Asgard, materials created by the dwarves and elves in the forges of their realm were highly prized, it was where Thor’s original hammer came from. You had been there before, with Odin, Frigga, Thor and Loki when you were a child as part of a delegation of peace. You were shown hospitality, kindness, a beautiful place to stay and some of the most delicious food you had ever experienced. You and your adopted family left in good spirits, with happiness from Odin, Frigga and those in charge of Svartálfar. To your knowledge there had been no aggression from the dwarves or elves, no attempt to destroy Asgardian homes. It didn’t make sense that Odin was waging war against them.

“What-” you were cut off when you turned to Loki for an explanation.

“Fill your bellies of food and mead, enjoy this night before our bloody but inevitable victory!” Odin stood, raising his drinking horn to the crowd. Thor leapt to his feet as well, mead spilling over the sides of his glass.

“TO ASGARD!!” He screamed in the hall, shaking his Warhammer above his head. The hall around you devolved into chaos, men cheering and yelling, mead being spilled, remnants of the feast thrown to the ground. The way these warriors behaved would never have been tolerated when you were last there, it was shocking to see such displays of aggression mixed with cheers and laughter.

You sat in silence sipping your mead, feeling deeply uncomfortable until at last Odin excused himself from the hall, meaning it was appropriate for you to do the same. Loki had disappeared into the crowd somewhere; Thor was in the middle of a war chant with men surrounding him when you slipped out of the feast hall unnoticed.

It felt like a new palace, everything you knew from your childhood was gone. You walked the halls you used to love, looking for the murals of your family, the tapestries depicting the history of the nine realms, the bright colors lighting up the walls, feeling more defeated with each step. At least you knew you could find solace in the library, turning the corner and pushing against the heavy door that held more books than you could ever hope to read in your long lifetime.

It felt like a punch in the chest, where were the books? Where were the tables and couches, the fireplace you had spent hours curled up in front of, deep into beautifully bound books? The only thing that kept you from thinking you were in the wrong room, was the pattern of the floor. It was unique to the library, Frigga had made sure the library would be a beautiful room of respite, a place that made reading and studying a pleasure to be in.

All the bookcases were gone, the chairs, couches, tables, rugs all removed. Instead, you found the walls lined with weapons, swords, shields, javelins, axes, hammers, anything that could hurt another being could be found somewhere in that room. Your attention was drawn to a soldier on the floor with a bucket of water, cleaning up something that looked to be blood staining one of the golden tiles.

“Not as elegant as it once was, father decided that training soldiers with weapons was more valuable than training them with books.” Loki’s voice was easy to hear now that there was nothing in the room to soften sounds.

“What happened?” you asked, heartbroken to see the absence of your favorite place in the palace. You turned away from the soldier wiping blood off the tiles.

“I told you, Odin put it to what he considers better use.” Loki said, crossing the room to take your hand.

“Where are the books?” you asked him, his pale skin brushing against yours.

“Somewhere safe, would you like to see?” You could hear the smirk in his voice before you looked, Loki always had some trick up his sleeve, so it didn’t surprise you that he had found them a hiding place. You nodded and let him pull you out of the old library and down the hall.

As you moved through the palace, every piece of art, or beauty seemed to be stripped away, dark colors and guards lined the halls.

“Where are the handmaidens?” you asked Loki. There had been a few palace guards sure, but usually the palace was filled with nobility, their handmaidens, children running and chasing each other. You saw only soldiers, and only your adopted family and the one frightened maid who helped in your bedchamber. Even the man in the library cleaning blood seemed to have taken on the role of a handmaiden, you had never seen a soldier clean a floor before.

Loki was watching you take in the new palace with amusement. He could feel how uncomfortable the changes made you, but change was the way of all the worlds.

“They were sent away to heal soldiers in battle.” He told you, as if it made sense. As if sending women and children to the battlefield in another realm was a good idea.

“And the children?” you asked, not ready to believe that Odin would put them at risk.

“They’ve been sent outside the city of Asgard, or they’ve been taken to training camps. Father says the best warriors are trained from a young age.”

“Children? Trained as warriors?” You stopped and pulled your hand from Loki’s. What was going on in Asgard, and how had you not heard of all these changes? You had spent the last fifty years in Vanaheimr but it was hardly an isolated realm, how had you not been told about a full fledged war taking such a toll on so many people in your old realm?

“Loki when did this happen?” You asked, disbelief in your voice. His eyes hardened, the spark of happiness was gone.

“After mother died.” He looked at you and waited for a response even though you had trouble finding words to express yourself.

“I was here when Frigga died Loki, there was no war when I left.” You told him

“But you left quite soon after, didn’t you?” His voice was cold, and induced guilt in the pit of your stomach.

“How did I not hear of this?” you demanded, “how is it that not once someone in Vanaheimr mentioned to me the first war of the realms since our parents were killed?” You didn’t like to think about your parents, you didn’t ever know them, but you had known that their deaths were an important part of why peace had been ensured in all the nine realms for centuries. Loki was very similar, he refused to accept Laufey as his father, he had buried the truth since he learned of it. But it was true, the death of such large figures in many realms is what brokered peace.

“Odin didn’t want to alarm you.” Was the answer Loki gave you.

“Alarm me?” you asked, “so he forbade anyone in any realm to notify me?” Odin was the same stubborn old man you had butted heads with as a child, but he was the Allfather.

Loki simply nodded. He continued to move down the hallway, motioning you to follow him. Even though you were confused and angry, you had nowhere else to turn. The stairs you eventually took led to an unfamiliar part of the castle, it used to be seldom used but sometimes you would hide in the empty rooms when someone was looking for you.

The room you came to was not empty like it used to be, when Loki opened the door, it was magnificent. The room itself was larger than the house you lived in Vanaheimr, but it was the beautiful bookcases and thousands of brightly colored tomes that drew your eye. The furniture that used to fill the library was situated in the room, the space big enough for everything to fit, even your favorite couch you and Loki would sit together and share books on. Instinctively you crossed the room and laid your hands on one of Frigga’s favorite books, the stories she used to read you, Thor and Loki before bed.

“Do you remember stories of the Nisse she used to tell us?” Loki had gravitated towards where you stood.

“Of course,” you laughed softly. “Never make promises to a Nisse or they’ll take your first born.” You held the book close to your heart when you turned to face him.

Loki was close enough you could feel the energy and magic coming off his body. It felt different than it used to, the magic was a different frequency, the energy darker. Even so, you felt safer with Loki close by than you had felt all day.

“Would you like to read with me?” Loki whispered, lips touching your ear. You nodded as he took the book of fairy tales from you and went to sit on the couch the two of you had spent many hours on in the old library.

The hum of the jet made it easy to doze, slipping in and out of consciousness was easier than facing the situation head on. Blinking when the jet touched down, you saw Bucky hadn’t brought you back to the tower, you recognized it as the larger compound Tony had renovated for his team years prior. You let Bucky pull you along behind him, stumbling and blinking in the daylight.

You didn’t know the layout of the compound, had only given it a walkthrough once with Natasha. Bucky pulled you down hallways you didn’t recognize, around bends and up some stairs. Coming to a stop before a door, Bucky leaned down to kiss you, pulling you in seconds later. You heard the door being locked behind you, then fingers plucking at your wrist to free you from the handcuffs you had nearly forgotten about.

“You’re home, you’re safe.” Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, pulled your back to his chest, leaning in close to your ear, letting you survey the room.

Naturally it was gorgeous, a huge room with a sitting area, a place to eat and mix drinks, a fireplace in the corner by the bed and a wall of large sliding glass doors; they opened to a beautifully kept lawn and garden area, surrounded by a lush forest. Everything in the room was pale blue and white, couches and chairs matched the bedspread, pillows, and dust ruffle. The whole thing was so pretty you knew Bucky had nothing to do with the design.

“What is this place?” You finally wondered aloud, breaking your silence from the jet.

“It’s our home, your home for a while.” Bucky turned you in his arms, face far too close for your liking.

“My home?” Did he mean to have you live here at the compound?

“Yes, your home. It’s perfect for you here,” gesturing at the room with an arm. “Once you get settled in, we can talk about moving someplace else, just the two of us.”

Stepping away from him you pulled your hand loose and wrapped it around yourself.

“You want me to live in the Avengers compound with you? Are you nuts?” Glancing around you could see several exit points, already thinking of how easy it would be to sneak out.

“Actually,” Bucky looked stern, “you’re going to have to stay in this room until I know you’re not a flight risk.” Locking eyes, he gave you the slightest smirk and it was hard to keep from hitting him. Bucky quickly held his hands up.

“You’re free to go outside too! Look you have your own lawn and garden; it really is beautiful out here.” Rolling his eyes at the look on your face, Bucky once again looked amused. “Stark’s security system is smarter than you are doll, I actually think it might be entertaining to watch you try to run away, that is if you’re down for a chase.”

Eyes flashing you crossed your arms. He always made you angry, smugness and cockiness radiated off him. He knew he was stronger, faster, more brutal, he always had been, and you were sure he enjoyed it.

“You need to eat,” Bucky’s tone suddenly became stern, he turned and looked you up and down.

You knew you were a mess; Bucky had dragged you through the snow, brutally fucked you multiple times and brought you thousands of miles over the course of the last ten hours.

“I need a shower,” arms still crossed, not moving.

Bucky nodded his head and gestured for you to follow him. Opening a door at the far end of the room, a lovely bathroom, clearly built for two, was a sight for your weary eyes. Bucky pulled out towels as you followed him. You were not surprised to find your favorite soap, shampoo, and conditioner already in the shower, pink razor sitting next to them. You were surprised to see Bucky place clothes for you on the bathroom counter, a thin tank top and soft pajama pants.

“I’m going to get us some food, okay?” Bucky put his hands on your shoulders and kissed your forehead before closing the door to leave you in private.

Immediately you jumped up to check the vents, but they were bolted in place, the window not giving even a little as you tried to slide it open. It was too small for you to fit through anyway but worth a try. Once you decided there wasn’t a way out of the bathroom you began to strip, cranking the water to hot, standing below the spray trying to clean away the previous night. Try as you might, the black and purple bruises wouldn’t let you forget.

Warmed up and clean, you pulled on clothes, hung the towels, and turned the knob on the door only to find it locked. Frustrated, you banged on the door with your fist, wondering if it was too thick to kick down.

With a scratch and a click, Bucky opened the door from the other side with a smile at your wet hair and clean clothes.

“Sorry,” he said, “can’t be too careful with an escape artist in here.” Pulling by the wrists, he brought you to the table where there were two plates of food. “I know it’s been too long since you’ve eaten,” he reminded you, pulling out the chair for you.

Sunlight slanted across the room, blue sky peeking through the swaying branches of the trees. The way it hit Bucky’s face almost made him look beautiful. It almost made you see who he really was; a broken doll holding onto dead promises. Maybe you two were the same.

“You need to eat.” His voice breaking the silence ended the moment of peace. He stared at the food you were picking at.

“I don’t have much of an appetite,” you mumbled, pushing your fork around.

“Eat it. All of it.” Bucky’s tone made you look up at him, it was commanding, didn’t leave any room for argument. It was an order. He crossed his arms and stared at you until you began to eat at a pace he approved of. You heard him hum in approval.

“And what if I don’t?” You put your fork down, the numbness had begun to wear off after the shower.

“What did you say?” His tone was still icy, darker than it had been.

“I asked you,” you cleared your throat, “what if I don’t? What if I fucking don’t do what you want, asshole?” There was fire in your chest, you weren’t the same girl from Hydra years before.

Undeterred, there was amusement and malice in Bucky’s eyes.

“Sweetheart, you know exactly what I’ll do to you. Don’t encourage me.” He laughed lightly into his napkin, enraging you more.

Jumping to your feet had you yelling.

“You’re an Avenger, aren’t you? You’re supposed to be the good guys now, what the hell do you think your friends are going to say when they come visit?”

“Sit down.” Bucky’s tone was calm but deadly. “I’m only going to repeat myself once doll, sit down.” The look on his face had you in your seat in a second.

“Steve knows about our history, at least parts of it,” Bucky continued, “as does Sam, and even Nick Fury. I’m not going to say that they fully understand the nuances of our personal relationship but they hardly object to you staying here with me for a while. In fact, Steve and Tony helped me provide this home for you. I don’t think we’re going to have those kinds of problems doll.”

“So, this is it?” You couldn’t believe for a second that anyone approved of what he was doing. “I’m here so you can fuck me until I give you a baby?” Tears you hadn’t noticed now dripped off your chin, voice shaking in anger.

“No sweetheart, of course not.” Bucky looked so concerned, his hand covered yours on the table, not letting you pull away. “You’re here so we can have a second chance. A second chance at our family, at us.”

“Us? Bucky you’re brainwashed. Hydra fucking brainwashed you to make you think all of this, you can shake it off! This isn’t real!” Bucky squeezed your hand so hard it hurt, a cry escaping your lips.

“This is real,” Bucky wouldn’t let go of your hand. “You are real, I am real, we are real, we’re here, and we’re together. You can’t tell me that doesn’t mean something.” His eyes were hypnotizing, it was hard to look away.

“All that means is that I never really escaped.” It was a defeated sigh, closing your eyes and admitting you had lost, took everything you had left.

You let Bucky take your plate away, cleared of food under his watchful eye. You had never really escaped. The thought weighed heavy on your brain. How long had you deluded yourself? How many years had passed thinking you were free of Hydra and their schemes, when in the end their sadistic tortures had become your destiny?

“Hey, you in there?” Bucky waved his hand in front of you. “Come to bed.” He took your hand and pulled you to your feet, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re not going to make me handcuff you this time, are you?” There was a smile in his voice, but you weren’t looking. You felt a finger under your chin, lifting it to look in Bucky’s eyes, not fighting anything anymore. His smile faded when he saw your tears, pressed a soft kiss to your salty lips, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Let me make you feel better, okay?” His voice was soft, another sweet kiss placed on your lips. This was different, it was new. Who was this softer side of such a violent man? Bucky lifted you up onto the bed, hands never leaving your hips, laying you down against the pillows.

Almost lazily he kissed you, soft and slow, hands gently roaming your body. It wasn’t until he began to leave wetkisses down your neck that you remembered who he was. Tensing immediately, Bucky came back to your lips, hands running down your body to soothe you. Try as you might, it wasn’t possible to relax when Bucky peeled your tank top off, your breathing becoming shallow.

“Just let me take care of you.” Bucky kissed into the skin on your stomach, pulling down the soft pajama pants you had put on an hour earlier.

Leaving wet kisses along your thighs, Bucky buried his head between your legs making you gasp and pull at his hair. Tongue circling your clit, he had you bucking your hips and moaning, your body tingling. Not letting up, Bucky continued to lap you up, sliding a finger into your cunt, making you gasp and moan at once. Eyes rolling back, you tried to shake this off, it wasn’t supposed to feel good, you weren’t supposed to enjoy this. But the things Bucky was doing to your body had those thoughts running out of your head as soon as they entered.

Kissing his way back up your body, Bucky grabbed your hair and pulled you into a sloppy kiss.

“I told you I can make you feel good.” He was panting in your ear. You wanted to shake your head, tell him no but when his cock bottomed out in your pussy the noise you made was hardly a disagreement.

He knew how to fuck you, how to make you scream, to cry out, to make you beg for more. It was humiliating, you wished he didn’t know your body so well. Truthfully it was amazing. Every inch of you on fire, the orgasms he brought you to were unmatched, time was a blur, everything felt good. Even the feeling of Bucky cumming deep inside you felt good, it felt right. Even though it shouldn’t.

Still sweaty and wrapped up in each other, Bucky held you close, not about to let you go anywhere.

“I told you princess.” He breathed in your ear, “We were made for each other.”

________

“She’s so beautiful,” you had never seen him look so happy, “she’s the most precious thing in the world.” There were tears shining in his eyes, his show of emotion almost scared you.

Your daughter was clasped so securely, so tenderly in Bucky’s arms. You didn’t even know he was capable of such tender, gentle touches. You were so scared he would bruise her, hurt her with his rough hands, but he touched her in a way you had never seen, never experienced. How could he ever be so gentle? All he did was leave you littered in bruises at each touch, your heart at rest once you saw how gently he held her, how sweet he was, how fragile he treated her.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s hand was on your shoulder, watching you carefully.

“Yeah,” you said, tilting your head at Bucky and your daughter, “yeah, I think we’re going to be just fine.”

You didn’t mean for it to happen, was this your fault? It couldn’t be.

When you arrived at Titans tower it was chaos. Jason, Rachel and Gar were trying to get along, Kory and Dick trying to supervise and make order out of the mess before them.

Dick was rough, keeping up a tough persona to get the kids in line but you could see he cared. He cared so much, just trying to get things together with the team, always telling himself it could happen if he tried hard enough.

It seemed like he was doing better after a while, the light shining out of him when he trained the kids, set up the Titan’s headquarters, re-established a safe home base. When things went well you could see the boy wonder everyone joked about, you could see the clarity and good intentions of his thoughts.

It was always after a mission that Dick’s attitude got stormy, beating himself up even if everything went perfectly, he would run over all the ways he could have done better.

Dick was lost in a dark ocean in the kitchen, eyes closed, replaying the fight from earlier where Jason got hurt. Maybe if Dick had moved faster, been able to be in two places at once, Jason wouldn’t have a new cut on his arm. Maybe if Dick had been able to take out the target earlier when he had the chance-

“Hey.” A light hand on his shoulder brought him back, opening his eyes to refocus on where he was. You sat down beside him, surveying him gently, the brief touch seemed to break his train of thought.

“Look, about tonight-“

“You don’t have to do that to yourself, you know?” You cut him off. You’d heard him talk to Kory about this, to Donna, even to Jason after a mission. All he did was replay and replay the fights, throwing out a thousand ways that he could have been better.

“What do you mean?” Dick was taken off guard, ready to have a conversation about the mission you’d both just been on.

“I mean you never cut yourself a break. You’re human Dick, and you do the best you can every single day. That’s more than enough. Let yourself rest. Okay?” You felt like it needed to be said, Dicks mood palpable the last week. You stood back up and surveyed him with a sad smile. “Get some sleep boy wonder, yeah?”

The next day you didn’t see Dick until the late afternoon. He greeted you in the kitchen with a smile, getting himself a cup of coffee.

“Late morning?” You asked in passing.

“Yeah, um, I think you were right.” Dick sounded rested for the first time in a while. “I feel better with a good night's sleep.”

“Good!” You smiled. “You gotta take care of yourself before you can save the world Grayson.”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Dick’s voice echoed around the room, Kory and Rachel taking the brunt end of his dressing down.

“But we didn’t!” Kory’s hands began to glow. “Nobody died and made you king of the world, Dick!”

“No, but I’m in charge of keeping you safe! How am I supposed to do that when you won’t listen?”

“Enough!” Rachel’s voice cut through the air. “I’m going to get some sleep, everyone needs to stop yelling! We got what we needed, we did the right thing Dick. Just because it was different than how you would do it, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Rachel turned on her heel and stormed off, Kory and Gar running after her. Jason and Donna shifted uncomfortably, taking their leave once Dick turned his attention to the computer monitors.

You waited a while, the tension thinned but you could see Dick stewing in his own emotions. Your steps echoed across the floor, stopping short of where he was standing.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you know that right?”

Slowly, he turned to look at you, one hand hovering over the computer. He still blamed himself for the other’s actions.

“I should have-“

“This wasn’t your fault.” You told him, looking into his eyes, which were deep with worry. “You’re doing the best you can.” You couldn’t place the look in Dick’s eye but he let out a sigh and rubbed his hand over his face.

“It’s not good enough!” He sounded tired.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for things you can’t control. It’ll eat you alive.”

Slowly Dick nodded, taking a step back from the computer monitors.

“Would you give yourself a break?” You knew that people couldn’t live with guilt so heavy I choked them.

“Okay.” You barely heard it, but gave him a smile and left him to his thoughts.

It was nice to get away from the tower, San Francisco was beautiful and walking around the city was one of your favorite things to do on sunny afternoons. It got you out from the drama of having so many housemates, most of which were teenagers with raging hormones. It could be exhausting.

You spent the afternoon feeding birds in one of the many open parks and eating Chinese food. It was nice to do things alone, quietly, to have somewhere you could think. Finishing lunch, you peered down the street and decided to wander into one of the museums. You loved looking at art, and there was always something good on display in the city.

“You know, Bruce had that hanging at the manor until a few years ago.” The deep voice of Dick Grayson came from over your shoulder.

“Really? Huh, Bruce never struck me as a Picasso guy. He doesn’t seem like someone who appreciates anything abstract.” You turned with an eyebrow raised.

“I mean it wasn’t in the living room, he figured someone else would appreciate it more on display.” Dick said with a smile and a shrug.

“Well, I certainly do,” you glanced at the work behind the frame, “and a lot other people do too. How’d you find me, Grayson?”

“I figured you’d be in a museum on an afternoon off. This one is closest to Titans tower.” Dick explained.

“Looks like you’ve got me all figured out. What’s going on, do we need to get back to the team?” You questioned, looking around for an exit.

“No, nothing like that, I just thought maybe you wanted some company.” Dick said with a soft look on his face.

“Oh.” You had to switch gears in your head, Dick almost always came with work, he didn’t mesh with your relaxing time. “Yeah why not, when’s the last time you’ve been here?”

“I actually haven’t since I’ve been back to the city.” He admitted with a laugh, seeing the face you made.

“Oh my god Dick, alright we have to start all the way at the beginning then!” You grabbed his hand and took him back to the first exhibit. The rest of the afternoon you spent strolling through displays of art, admiring them quietly. It wasn’t until the museum closed that the two of you decided to go back to the tower.

It was almost dark and getting cooler. Dick tried to give you his jacket but you insisted you were fine, only a few blocks from home.

“Thanks for letting me crash your museum time today, it’s been a long time since I’ve slowed down that much.” Dick admitted to you.

“Yeah, anytime Dick. I think you should slow down more often. It’s good for you.” You smiled, Dick opening the door for you and stepping in the elevator behind you.

“Goodnight Dick,” you called out behind you as you walked the hallway to your room.

“Goodnight.” Dick murmured, watching you close the door before going to look at the computer monitors.

Pulling up the video feed in your room, Dick watched you change clothes, sit down at your desk and start writing what looked like a letter. He’d have to go in and grab the letter tomorrow while you were training to see what it said. Knowing he wasn’t needed for the rest of the night, Dick stayed in the computer room, keeping an eye on you.

“That stunt could have killed you!” Dick’s voice echoed off the walls.

“It could have HURT me, there’s no way that would have killed me, Dick!” Your energy matched his, not ready to be yelled at.

“Don’t be so eager to find out.” He snarled at you. You had never seen him so angry.

“Since when do you not trust me out there?” That was the part that hurt. you had been fine out there, but since when did Dick not trust you to take care of yourself? How many more times would you have to prove yourself?

“It’s not that I don’t trust you!” He sounded exasperated. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you!”

“So I’m sidelined because of YOUR feelings? Get over yourself Grayson.” You turned, done with this bullshit. Most of the time if Dick was upset with you there was a reason. But this time he was just being ridiculous. A hand on your shoulder made you freeze, then lurch away from the contact.

“DON’T.” You warned him, fire and ice both clear in your eyes.

“You were reckless-“

“I’M reckless? I watched you jump in front of a BULLET last week, Dick, won’t give me a lecture on recklessness!” Dick had no problem risking his own life, but when anyone else was as selfless as he was, it was a problem.

“You’re not responsible for my safety out there Dick, I am!” He wasn’t getting it; he never did.

“I’m responsible for everyone on the team!” He shot back. You expected that.

“You’re not my mother! I understand you need to keep the kids safe, they need help, and supervision! But I’m an adult, I know what I’m doing and I know what the consequences will be.” You weren’t expecting the dark look that settled on Dicks face.

“I won’t accept that.” His voice was set, face stony.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t be on the team with you. It’s a team, Dick, if you’re not willing to act like that then maybe I shouldn’t stick around.”

“Don’t say that, you don’t mean it.” The anger leached away, something closer to desperation glinted in Dicks eye.

“I mean, no I don’t, but I’m an adult, Dick! Treat me like it.” Was all you could manage before storming out.

Walking far enough away from the tower, you found yourself where you wanted to be. Taking the five steps down, you opened the door to the small hole in the wall bar you often found yourself frequenting after a long day. You didn’t want a drink, you just wanted some peace and quiet.

You were pleased to find it almost empty, making your way to the very small booth in the back and sitting against the wall. You ordered a soda as the sounds of the jukebox filled the air, a long sigh escaping your lips. You surveyed the few bar patrons, it looked like there was a couple on a date, and what seemed like a regular chatting with the bartender. You sipped your own drink, lost in your own thoughts, barley strung together in a comprehensible pattern. The sound of the door opening brought you back from your reverie.

“I’ll have what they’re having.” Dick said to the bartender as he slid into the seat across from you.

“They’re having soda, Dick, I’m not here to get drunk. I’m here to get some peace and quiet.” You snarked in his direction.

“Bring two shots of absinthe then.” Dick held up a piece of plastic with Wayne Enterprises stamped across the front. Having daddy’s credit card must be a great perk of being a billionaire’s son.

“I'm not in the mood Dick.” Was all you said, glare clear on your face.

“It’s one shot,” Dick raised his eyebrows almost in a dare.

“Absinthe? Really? I might as well take a shot of bleach.” The mint green color of absinthe was unappealing, the flavor even worse.

“Whatever suits you.” Was all he said as two shots were placed on the table. With surprising quickness, Dick downed one of them and looked at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes and sat back. With a shrug, Dick indulged himself in the second shot, a sly smile sliding into place when he saw the face you made.

“How’d you find me?” You asked, irritated.

“It’s close to the tower, it’s underground and almost never busy. Seems like your typea’ place.” Dick shrugged, surveying the sparse few patrons. “It’s actually kinda nice, clean and quiet.”

“It WAS quiet.” You sipped your drink.

“Okay, I get it, you don’t want to talk to me.” These sting of words would usually come with an angry intonation but you figured it was the alcohol that made Dick have a goofy smile instead.

“It’s not that it’s just… I know you mean well. But you’re carrying everyone else’s weight. You have to put it down. You have to trust that we can take care of ourselves, at least SOMETIMES. What’s the point of having a team if you can’t rely on them?”

Dick looked serious again, like he was actually taking in the meaning of your words instead of brushing them off.

“I do rely on you. More than you know.” You could tell the admission was hard. “Which is why I need to make sure you’re safe. It kills me to watch you put yourself in danger, do you know that?”

“You don’t think I feel the same way?” Dick’s eyebrows raised at your question. “We all need you, Dick, it’s just as terrifying for all of us when you rush into danger head first. But I trust you, even when you do something I think is stupid, I know you’ve thought it through or have a plan because you ALWAYS do. Why can’t you trust me the same way?”

You didn’t expect the look on his face, half wonder, half anxiety, a strange mix you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re right. I don’t give you enough credit.” Dick managed.

“I don’t want credit, I want you to trust and respect my autonomy. Is that too much to ask?” You sounded defensive still.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry.” An apology from Dick was not something you took for granted, so you accepted it. Some of the anger you held left your body.

“I could use some sleep, it’s been a crazy long day.” The last of your drink was gone, you couldn’t bring yourself to slurp the last of the liquid form the ice, you hated the sound it made.

“Ready to go?” Dick stood and offered his hand.

“Yeah, let me just close out.” You took it briefly to stand.

“Don’t worry about that, I took care of it.” Dick let you know, stopping to sign a receipt and get the Wayne credit card back.

It was dark by the time you left, Dick stood closer to you than usual, you could only imagine the scenarios running through his head of someone attacking the two of you. He really needed to stand down and take it easy for once in his life. Even if it wasn’t noticeable to most, you could see the tension release from Dick’s shoulders once you made it to the tower. You were sure that stress would give him a heart attack before he hit 30.

“I’m going to bed. Would you do yourself a favor and get some sleep? And some water? You’ll need it.” You told Dick, about to part ways.

“Sure, I promise.” Was all he said as he watched you walk down the hall towards your room.

Not wasting any time since everyone else was asleep or gone, Dick found himself at the computer, pulling up the video feed to your room. It made him feel better knowing you were safe in your room, watching you get dressed for bed and slowly fall into a peaceful sleep. He watched your chest rise and fall for nearly an hour, matching his breaths with yours until he was tired enough to head to bed himself.

When Bruce visited the tower everyone cleared out. It was obvious he only came to talk with Dick and Jason, everyone but Gar, who hung on Bruce’s every word, was more than happy to step out. Bruce rubbed you the wrong way. You could see where Dick got his commanding attitude and poor coping mechanisms from. The few times Bruce had been around you had witnessed astonishing verbal abuse followed up with just enough of a backhanded compliment to keep Dick or Jason placated. Instead you took Rachel and Gar to the city, finding a cute ice cream shop on the hot day.

It was late afternoon that Dick texted you, letting you know Bruce had left. None of you tried to make it a secret that you had left because Bruce was around.

“Sounds like Mr. Condescension has left the building. You guys ready to go back?” You asked the kids, who were happy in the sun.

“Oh man he’s gone? I wanted to ask him about the Batmobile!” Gar chimed in looking sad.

“Next time Gar.”

As you suspected, Dick was hard to find. Not in any of the common areas, you found the door to his room ajar.

“Can I come in?” You asked, tapping the door lightly.

“Sure.” The word was deadened, no emotion behind it.

“How are you doing?” Dick’s back was to you, he was busying his hands shuffling papers and mission reports around on his desk.

“I’m fine.” He snapped, his usual lighthearted tone gone.

“Dick,” you started, walking to put a hand on his arm, “you’re not Bruce.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” He almost yelled, frustration and anger clear on his face.

“That’s a good thing.” You put as much strength as you could behind your words. “You shouldn’t try to be Bruce. You’re better than he is.”

Dicks eyes flew to yours, distrust in them.

“Bruce can do anything. And I-“

“So can you! In your own way! Trying to be Bruce isn’t going to help you. It’s not healthy. And neither is the way he treats you and Jason.”

“Jason left.” He sighed.

“I don’t blame him. So would I, if someone talked to me like that. You’re your own person Dick, that’s a thousand times more important than trying to be like Bruce.” You hoped your words would mean something to him.

Dick looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time. There was doubt as well as hope in his eyes.

“I don’t know who I am.” It was hard to hear, coming out as a whisper.

“I do.” You faced him, making him look at you. “You’re Dick Grayson. You’re a hero, who puts everyone before himself, not because you have to, but because you want to. You care so much about doing the right thing, about helping people. Is that not enough?“ you questioned.

“I guess it could be.” He still sounded unsure, like he couldn’t trust himself.

“You deserve to be treated better than that Dick. You’re a good person who does good things. And that’s not something you can say to just anybody.” You meant every word.

He looked at you through new eyes. As someone who saw him as him. Not as Robin, not as Nightwing, but as a person. Had this ever happened before?

“Come have dinner with us.” You offered, hoping socializing with people who cared about him would make a difference in how he saw himself.

“Okay,” Dick relented, “give me a few minutes I’ll be right out.”

“Sounds good. Don’t sulk too long.” You winked at him and turned to leave.

Saying it had been a hard night would be an understatement. In truth the team was lucky that you all made it out alive. It was silent as everyone put away their gear and parted ways to get some rest. The air held a mix of anger and fear; it scared everyone how close so many of you had been to death, and it made Dick angry. There was no need for words between the team, you all knew what had happened and none of you were happy about it.

Trading Kevlar for something comfortable, you wandered into the kitchen. It was very physical which made you hungry, and besides, there was too much adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream for sleep to come easily. Hearing punches landing and seeing a faint light made you realize you might not be the only one up. Curious, you made your way down the hall to find Dick sweaty and angry, throwing punches at a punching bag at four in the morning.

“Whatcha doing?” You looked him up and down, concerned. He was sweaty, all the usual color in his skin nearly gone, a crazy look in his eyes.

“What does it look like?” Dick stopped only long enough to answer you.

“It looks like you’re running on three hours of sleep and adrenaline. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He scoffed at that.

“What’s a little more damage, huh? Not like I haven’t already taken a beating tonight.”

“So you’re going to beat yourself up more? Will that make you feel better?” You questioned.

“Not having three of my team members almost die is what would make me feel better!” Dick gave up punching, instead turning his ire on you.

“That’s the risk we take every time we leave the tower, Dick. And we know that.” Your voice was even but it wouldn’t placate him.

“Tonight was a shit show! None of that was according to plan, none of that was acceptable!” You knew he was mad but you could tell there was more.

“It’s okay to be scared Dick. And it’s okay to be sad. We’re human, and that’s part of it, feeling things, working through them. It sucks but you have to feel things, or it’ll tear you apart inside. You don’t need that on top of everything else.” If only he could see himself the way you did. The way everyone else did.

It took a while for Dick to look at you, you could see him thinking, actually listening to what you said. When he did, he had a questioning look on his face. He stepped closer to you.

“Can I, do you mind?” Dick held his arms forward and you stepped into him. He wrapped them around you in a tight hug. Resting his chin on your head, he took a shuddering breath. “Thanks.” You heard his voice crack. The two of you stood like that for a minute, Dick only pulling away once his face wouldn’t betray his emotions.

“Will you get some sleep?” You asked. It seemed like you were always nagging him to take care of himself. To put his guilt to bed as well as himself.

“Yeah, I will.” Dick said softly, the early hour finally hitting in full force. You looked at his bloody knuckles with concern.

“I’ll take care of those too, promise.” He saw your glance.

“Okay. Goodnight Grayson.” You figured it was all you could do, let him know that he didn’t need to feel the burden of everything that went wrong on his shoulders.

Dick realized how exhausted he was when he wiped his face with his shirt, sweat dampening the fabric. A hot shower soothed his muscles, taking care to wrap his bloody knuckles in a bandage, his thoughts on what you said to him. Too tired to go watch on the computer, Dick pulled up the video of your room on his phone as he got comfortable in bed. He was happy to find that you had already gone to sleep. It was a lot for everyone, and he was glad you found peace in sleep faster than he did. Dick wasn’t sure when his eyes closed, just that he drifted off watching you breathe, knowing you were safe.

You really liked working in the city, but sometimes it was just too loud. When you needed a break or to clear you head, you were happy you had a vehicle around. Not knowing the area well, you took advantage of time you got to drive around and explore as much as you could. You let Kory know you were taking off for the day and got in your car for a drive.

Dick didn’t like it when you left Titans tower, especially when you took your car. It always meant you’d be gone for a while. Pulling up a tracking app on his phone, Dick watched your car driving north. What were you doing on that side of the bridge, who were you seeing?

“You good?” Donna came into the computer room, taking her turn behind the monitors. “You look a million miles away.”

“Just 20,” Dick replied, still watching your car move on the app. Meeting Donna’s eyes, Dick thanked her for taking over watching the computer, realizing he had the rest of the afternoon off. Watching your car get further and further away didn’t sit well with Dick. Making a split second decision, he decided to jump in his car and see where you were going.

Taking the same route you did, Dick found himself in small town, surrounded by quaint shops and restaurants. Parking far enough away, Dick got out looking for where you could have gone. It didn’t take long to see you seated at an outdoor cafe, book in hand, sitting alone in the sun. Dick went into the restaurant across the street, buying a newspaper and lunch that he didn’t eat. He stayed there, watching from afar, until he saw the check brought to your table. Paying for the food, Dick stayed far enough away for you not to notice him following you.

He really enjoyed himself, the spot you and you chose was cute and had outdoor shops with fresh fruits and vegetables. Spending the afternoon making sure you were safe in the sunshine made him happy.

Dick watched you talk to fruit and vegettable vendors before you got in your car from where he was sitting at a cafe. Waiting around for a while, Dick made sure you were on your way back to the tower until he got in his car and followed.

When he got back, he saw you talking with Kori and Donna, cutting up fresh fruit you had gotten while you were out. Knowing you were safe and where you were supposed to be made Dick feel good enough to relax.

“We’ve gotta quit meeting like this.” Dick told you with a nudge, cleaning out a cut under the running water. You both needed minor patch ups in the medical center after the last mission. He was right, the both of you frequented the medical center too often lately.

“If you never ask a girl out where’s she supposed to meet you?” You joked, getting the laugh you wanted. You patched yourself up with gauze and antibacterial ointment, looking far better than you had when you first walked in. You felt Dicks eyes on you the entire time. It made you frustrated. Didn’t he trust you enough to do basic first aid? You realized maybe that wasn’t the case when Dick asked you for help before you left. When you gently placed the bandage on his skin, Dick held back a wince.

“Thanks.” He told you, putting his shirt on.

“Yeah, no problem. But you have to take it easy, especially on that side.” You gave him a stern look.

Dick just laughed, before grabbing his ribs.

“I think we both do, at least for a couple days.” He relented before you left with a smile.

A knock pulled your attention from the book you were reading, sprawled across your bed.

“Yeah? Come in.” You put a bookmark in. Dick opened your door, looking nicer than he usually did.

“All the kids went out to watch a movie, and Kory and Donna left to stake someone out. I thought I’d make dinner. Do you want to join me?”

You mulled it over for a minute. “What movie did they go to?” You asked, indignant that they hadn’t asked you to go with them.

Dick just smiled. “I'm not sure. I think they thought you were sleeping and didn’t want to bother you.”

“I guess I’ll have to berate them about it later.” You sighed. “Sure,” you replied, looking at Dick, “I’d love to have dinner. Thanks.” Dick was far better dressed, which made you change into something more presentable than sweats before joining him in the kitchen.

“Wow, I thought you meant takeout! I didn’t know you could cook.” You were surprised to find Dick at the stove, delicious smells filling the air.

“I had to learn once I moved out of the manor. I don’t mean to brag but I’m not a terrible cook.” He turned towards the island and opened a bottle of red wine, pouring two glasses.

“Cheers.” Dick said with a smile, clinking your glasses together.

The wine was good, and to your surprise, so was the meal Dick made. You realized it had been a while, or perhaps this was the first time, that you and Dick sat down together to talk and enjoy dinner. You had more in common than you thought with him, despite being raised in totally opposite environments. Dick even cleared your plate and cleaned up the kitchen after himself. You were reluctantly impressed.

“I’m sure there’s something better than the news on tv if you want to watch.” Dick walked over to the couch, grabbing the remote.

“We can find something more fun than that if we try.” You settled into the couch next to Dick, getting comfortable.

Hardly paying attention to what was on the screen, the two of you continued talking until the elevator dinged. Rachel and Gar were chattering animatedly to themselves and Jason and Rose were making out in the corner.

“Hey! You’re awake!” Rachel happily noticed you in the living room.

“I was awake the whole time goofy!” You told her. “Next time come get me!”

“We didn’t want to bother you. Besides, it looks like you two had a fun time without us.” Gar slid up to Rachel and took her hand. You thought it was sweet.

“Somehow the adults managed to have fun without the kids,” Dick remarked.

“I’m sure you didn’t even have half the fun we did.” Rachel said with a smile.

“No I’m sure we didn’t,” you joked, “adults are boring.”

You let out a yawn and stretched on the couch, looking at the clock, the hours you spent with Dick had melted away.

“God it got late,” you said, rising from the cushions. Dick stood, waking with you as you made your way towards your room.

“Thanks for dinner Dick, it was a really good night, even though the kids forgot about me.” You said stopping in front of your door.

“I’m kinda glad they decided to go by themselves. We should do dinner more often.” He told you with a smile.

“We should! Maybe next time I’ll cook. Have dinner with everyone.”

Dick frowned for just a second before nodding. You looked up and down the hall, realizing you were alone.

“I should get to bed, you should too, it got late.” You echoed yourself.

“Yeah it did.” He breathed out softly, getting closer to you than he normally did. When he caught your eye, Dick leaned close to you, slowly pressing his lips against yours.

Your eyebrows shot up, eyes went wide once Dick pulled away. Frozen in spot you couldn’t say anything. You felt Dick’s hand on your face before he let go and backed up a few steps.

“Goodnight.” Dick looked at the shock on your face.

“I.. um… goodnight!” You managed, feeling around behind you for the door handle. As soon as you could turn it, you slipped into your room and leaned against it. What the hell just happened?

You could say Dick was a friend, the two of you had warmed up to each other and cared about each other a lot. But not like that. The way your life was going, a partner was the last thing you needed now, and Dick had a lot of his own emotions to work through. Sure he was good looking, but he was your friend, not anything else. You ended up pacing around your room until it got far too late to stay up. You didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning, your mind too warped up to be at rest.

It hadn’t been the reaction he was hoping for, but you hadn’t flat out rejected him, you were just confused. Needing to know what you were thinking, Dick watched you pace around your room for the better part of an hour. He heard you mumbling to yourself the whole time, not able to make out the exact words. You didn’t look happy, you looked worried, confused. Dick didn’t like it.

You made him feel safe, you SAW him, you saw Dick as Dick, not as his other personas, or even as Bruce Wayne’s son. You saw him as Dick, you told him so more than once. He could be himself. He could be someone who didn’t have to be perfect, who could make mistakes, who could feel things. The things you said to him about being human, about feeling things that hurt meant more to him than he could express. Everyone needed the world from him, everyone needed Dick to be a superhero ALL the time, he had to be the adult, the one who got things done and protected everyone. But it didn’t have to be like that with you. You gave him the opportunity to feel something besides the pressure of the world. Dick hadn’t even realized he needed that.

Watching you get ready for bed calmed his nerves, Dick mirroring your actions, finding himself crawling into bed at the same time you did. As always, Dick watched you until you fell asleep, knowing you were safe gave him enough comfort to drift off as well.

Your dreams had been of Dick, of him kissing you in the most inappropriate places and situations. You woke up several times, mind racing. Finally deciding it was time to get up, you rolled out of bed and threw on some sweats. Making your way to the kitchen you found Dick already there, coffee already brewed presumably by him.

“Hey.” He greeted you as you poured yourself a cup.

“Hey.” You said tentatively, not sure what you wanted to say. Deciding to bite the bullet you turned to face him.

“Look, Dick, about last night…” you trailed off as he looked you up and down. “I just… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” You did realize you were apologizing for something Dick did, but it seemed like the easiest way for you to shut it down.

“I’m not.” Was all he said, looking at you with an eyebrow raised. It only made you more flustered.

“I’m not looking for that right now,” you stuttered out. “I’m not in a good place. Besides I’m not the kind of person you want around like that.” You could feel your face turning red.

“Well,” Dick smiled which was not what you were expecting. “If you change your mind, let me know.”You heard a soft laugh as he turned and left you alone. 

That was not how you were picturing that going down, but at least there wasn’t a scene.

You were off your game for the rest of the day, jumpier than usual. You cursed Dick for being able to affect you like that. It just seemed so out of nowhere. Thinking back on the night you cringed. Had Dick thought dinner last night was a date? You thought it could have been considered that by someone, there was dinner, wine, great conversation. But Dick had made dinner already, wasn’t he just being nice since the two of you were the only ones at home?

You skipped out early that night, finishing your food first and excusing yourself to your room.

You realized you may as well have lost an entire day worrying about Dick, when you maybe didn’t even need to. He was normal Dick Grayson, focusing on training and the team and helping everyone he could. One kiss couldn’t change things. You wouldn’t let it, wouldn’t let yourself continue to worry and made up your mind to move past it.

Dick knew you were avoiding him, you weren’t good at hiding it. You left when you saw him come in a room, made bad excuses to leave after dinner. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted to get closer to you, not farther away.

He watched you instead, keeping track of your movements around the tower, listened in when he could, glued to the video feed in your room. Dick worked at the computer, keeping your video up in the background. You alternated between sitting at your desk, writing in a journal, or pacing and talking to yourself. You were doing it more than usual that night, Dick blamed himself. He hoped this would pass, he couldn’t stand to think that you were pulling away, when you had been getting closer. He’d just have to make sure that didn’t happen.

You had made up your mind that night, and steadily followed through. Any tension between you and Dick, you pushed through, treating him exactly the same way you always did. You were so much more than relieved to see him doing the same, seeming to forget the kiss altogether. By the end of the day the two of you were joking and laughing together as usual. You had dodged a bullet successfully. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Dick was pleased your awkwardness around him had dissipated, he had been worried you would be avoiding him for weeks. Pulling back in on himself, Dick did his best to act like nothing had happened, even when it had. You knew now. You knew how Dick felt but you didn’t want him, at least not yet. Not for the time being. Dick wasn’t about to spook you now, so he fell back on his regular persona, careful not to push. He wanted you within arms length.

Nearly a month passed in the same fashion, any awkwardness between you gone. Fighting crime, training training training, catching sleep and eating together when time allowed. Dick felt like the team was finally hitting their stride, the cohesiveness and trust being built was exactly what all of you needed. Dick finally felt like maybe he found somewhere he belonged.

Having girlfriends in Donna and Kory was new to you, but in the most pleasant way. Growing up, it was hard to make friendships and connections, you were so happy to have friendships like in the movies you watched, gossiping with the girls and staying up late. The last couple months cemented the sweet bond between the three of you. You were still wary of your personal life but for the most part they respected that. Except when it came to relationships, more exactly the lack of your relationships.

“I don’t get it, it’s been how long?” Donna pressed, snapping off a piece of chocolate, passing the rest of the bar to Kory.

“That doesn’t matter!” You insisted, blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Come on, everybody’s gotta get some sometime!” The mischievous smile on Kory’s face didn’t help.

“I’m just… I’m not in the best place right now. I’m not looking for anything like that.” It was true, romantic type relationships were the last thing on your mind, no matter how hard people pushed.

“I mean you don’t HAVE to have a relationship, there’s nothing wrong with a one off thing.” Kory continued.

“Part of me wants that,” you admitted, “but part of me isn’t ready. You know?”

“I DONT know actually!” Kory laughed and Donna with her.

“Take your time,” Donna reassured you, “when you’re ready you’ll know.” She took another bite of chocolate. “When you're ready I’m sure Dick would be more than happy to rock your world.” She winked.

“Donna!!” You exclaimed. You were met with laughter from both girls.

“She’s right!” Kory seconded, “I see how he looks at you. And he’s a snack, you don’t wanna jump on that?”

Embarrassment was back, you put a hand to your forehead to try to cover your blush.

“That sounds like a really bad idea honestly.” You told them, “it’s messy and ugly when you get involved with someone you work with. Trust me.” You rolled your eyes, not going to get tangled up in another coworker mistake.

“I dunno, he looks like he could be really good for you.” Again Kory winked and you shook your head.

“Okay enough about my lack of relationships, what about you?” Deciding to turn the conversation around, Kory and Donna began to talk about their love lives, you successfully dodged their questions.

You had too many drinks. A fun night out with the adults in the building and you might have had just one too many glasses of fun. You hadn’t realized at the time but you did when you tried to stand. Donna gripped your elbow and steadied your wobbling feet, the both of you laughing as you walked back. Donna ran ahead to keep up with Kory, Dick taking her place at your elbow.

“I’m fiiiiiiine Dick, I can walk.” You insisted. He just laughed and kept his hand on your elbow, always the gentleman.

The elevator was full of tipsy laughter, the four adults had taken a night off to have dinner and drinks. The girls continued to the kitchen, hunting down snacks to fight off their late night hunger.

You let Dick guide you down the hall to your door, ready to sleep it off. You didn’t usually have too many drinks and hoped you wouldn’t regret it the next morning.

Crossing the threshold you kicked off your shoes and felt Dick move past you. You heard the faucet run, Dick coming back and setting a glass of water on your bedside table.

“You gonna be okay?” He asked you. Smiling slightly, his lips looked so kissable.

“Yeah,” you assured him, “I’ve had one too many drinks before, I’ll survive.” The two of you stood close by, you could feel the heat coming off Dick, the smell of his cologne. The way he was looking at you made your stomach flip, friends didn’t look at each other like that. And Dick was your friend. A good friend. That’s what you told yourself when you closed the distance between you two and placed a kiss against his soft lips.

Dick responded, excited, and pulled you close until you stepped back with a gasp.

“I’m so sorry.” Your hand flew to your lips and you gasped. “I’m sorry Dick, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m-“

“Hey, it’s okay.” Dick cut off your rambling apology. He was smiling, a glint in his eye you hadn’t seen before. “Why don’t you drink some water and sleep it off, okay?” His voice was close to your ear, and he gave you a kiss on the cheek. It was Dicks turn to tell you to get some sleep, his turn to make sure you took care of yourself.

Dick passed Kory and Donna chattering in the kitchen, wanting to see what you would do now that he left you alone.

Dick sat back against his headboard and watched the video feed in your room like it was his favorite movie. In truth it was. You were pacing again, this time more wobbly than before, running your hands over your face.

“Fuck!” He heard you exclaim, flopping down on your bed. Eventually you lifted your head and drained the water he had gotten for you. He watched you strip out of the dress you had worn that night, brush your teeth and get ready for bed. You sat down in bed and hit the back of your head against the wall.

“I’m a goddamn idiot.” He heard you tell yourself before laying down. Watching you toss and then, Dick realized you were too busy thinking to find sleep peacefully. Truthfully he was too.

YOU had kissed HIM. Unfortunately you were currently beating yourself up over it, but you wouldn’t have kissed him if you weren’t attracted to him, right? Dick considered that a win, even though you may regret kissing him, he knew you were attracted to him, and that was half the battle. Realizing he may have more of a shot than he thought was enough to quiet his doubts and finally relax a little. That night Dick may have found sleep faster than you did.

Waking up was a struggle, a headache pulling you from unconsciousness. When you opened your eyes the night before came back to you in force. You groaned.

How could you kiss Dick? You shut it down before and didn’t want anything else from him but friendship. Yes he was attractive, but you had been over this before. Not only were you not ready in any way shape or form to have a relationship, you knew there were a thousand things Dick had to work through himself before he could be ready either. You were not looking forward to seeing him. You didn’t want to have the same awkward conversation you had earlier.

Deciding to face the worst of it, you swallowed two Advil before going to the kitchen. Dick was up as usual, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kory and Donna were nursing hangovers.

“Feeling okay?” Dick asked when he saw you walk in, pour a glass of water and sit down.

“Not great but it could be worse. I guess I should be grateful I only did one stupid thing last night.” You finally met his eyes. He was smirking, you didn’t like how sure of himself he looked.

“I don’t remember you doing anything stupid.” He replied, still smug.

“I dragged you into my mess last night Dick. That wasn’t fair to you.” You studied the table.

“You can kiss me anytime you want.” Dick was looking straight at you. You closed your eyes, worried that this was the reaction you’d get.

“I meant what I said, that I’m not the person you’d want to have around like that. And that I’m going through some stuff in my fucked up head.” You looked at him and chewed on your lip. “I’m really sorry Dick. It won’t happen again. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was drunk and stupid. You deserve more than that.” It was the best explanation you could muster, you were just hoping he would get it.You were relieved he looked at you with understanding instead of anger.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he was using your own words to calm you down. “If you want to forget about it, we can.”

Relief crossed your face, you let out a sigh.

“Thank you Dick. Again, I’m sorry.” This is why you didn’t have more than two drinks, you got dumb.

“I’m not.” Was his reply, the same as last time he kissed you. “If the girls aren’t too hungover you guys should do some training. You’ll sweat out all that booze.” Dick got up with a smile. “And I know Jason isn’t hungover, so I’m gonna get his ass up and spar with him. See you at dinner?” Dick rose from the table and smiled.

You were beyond relieved that he was so understanding, again mentally raking yourself over the coals for being so stupid. Dick deserved more than that, and getting involved with someone wasn’t on your list. Deciding the best way to deal for now might be to sweat it out, you went to rouse Donna and Kory so the three of you could hit the gym.

Forget it? There was no way in hell Dick was forgetting it. He was damn near giddy all day, laughing more than usual, his mind in the clouds. Dick kept replaying the moment you leaned forward and kissed him, the moment your lips connected, the few seconds it lasted. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you, and now he had proof.

You seemed pretty set on “not being ready” but Dick was a patient man. He couldn’t see WHY you wouldn’t be ready, you were a great person, teammate, you seemed to have your life together. He had started to dig into your civilian life when you were introduced, not eager to have anyone around that he didn’t have all the inside knowledge on.

While you were with the Titans you were between jobs, that’s why you were able to work with the team and Dick was grateful for that. The people in your personal life seemed stable and you were confident and very skillful. He didn’t see any reason you wouldn’t want to be in a relationship, especially with him. You clearly cared about Dick, probably loved him even. But if you wanted to wait, Dick would wait. Just not forever.

After the headache at the beginning, a day of training really did sweat out all the booze. Donna and Kori recovered faster, kicking your butt around the training room a few times each but you didn’t mind. You ended the day with a few new bruises but feeling refreshed none the less. Plenty of carbs made you feel better as well, happy to have a relaxing night with the kids, the kitchen and living room full of laughter. Everyone watched a movie and you tried not to nod off on the couch. One good day was more than you could ask for sometimes.

Dick’s phone began to flash. It wasn’t his usual ringtone, it was yours; the ringtone he had set to alert him when you were getting calls. Weeks ago Dick had placed a tracker and app to have all your texts and phone calls forwarded to Dick as well as yourself. he could mirror your phone's screen whenever he wanted. You’d never notice, and Dick was just keeping you safe by keeping track of what you were saying and who you were talking to. Excusing himself, Dick picked up his phone and listened in as you answered.

“Well, how long will it be? Are you going to stay in the area?” A woman’s voice that wasn’t yours spoke.

“I’m not sure.” You replied, “things are kind of winding down after a long spree of crazy.”

“You’re working harder than ever! When’s the last time you had eight hours of sleep?” The woman asked.

“Oh god I’m not sure,” you laughed over the phone. “But I know Rachel was talking to Donna about training on Themyscira, and Kori and Conner wanted to do some work with Blackfire. I was thinking of taking off for a while, do some normal things you know?”

Dick didn’t like the sound of that. Sure, other team members were considering taking a month or two to train or give their help elsewhere but Dick didn’t want you to go anywhere. As far as he was concerned you were integral to the team and to the Titans. As long as there were ANY Titans in the tower, Dick needed you to be there. This tower was your home, not somewhere else. It’s where you belonged.

“You’re going to come stay with us for a while, right?” The woman over the phone inquired, sounding excited.

“Of course I am! I’m going to spend some time with all the family once I take a break from this place. It’s been way too long.” The prospect of a vacation seemed to lift your tone of voice. It made Dick angry.

Listening to the rest of the rest of the conversation just made it worse; you made plans to travel and see other parts of the country, other friends and family along the way. Why were you being so selfish? Why wouldn’t you see that you had everything in front of you? Dick would just make sure things didn’t get too slow.

“Dick what is this?” You paced the near empty warehouse. Dick had promised an active drug lab that was too big for the police to handle. What you found was the remnants of a lab, the equipment covered in dust and mostly smashed to pieces. The third one that week.

“Must be bad intel.” Dick replied, looking disappointed as you felt.

“You’ve had consistently bad intel, Dick, where are you getting your information?” You tried to keep the annoyance out of your voice, but these calls were a waste of time.

“I mean the least we can do is clear out this junk and try to find somewhere better to be, right?” He kicked some broken glass towards the middle of the room.

“We aren’t maids, this isn’t our job. I’m just gonna call it in.” You reached down and clicked your police radio, letting them know about the old warehouse full of drug cooking paraphernalia.

“Things have been pretty slow, we should just go home.” There had been no emergencies while you were out and it had gotten late.

“Come on, you don’t wanna wait it out another hour? Something fun could come up.” Dick sounded optimistic.

“Dick seriously? It’s almost 4am, suns coming out soon.” The fatigue and annoyance at bullshit calls all week was clear in your voice.

“Okay okay, you’re right. Might as well call it.” Somehow Dick still remained chipper, more than happy to stay out all night for any reason.

You yawned the entire way back though you tried to hide it. Dick thought it was cute.

“I mean it’s been slow, we’ve been doing a good job. I think it’d be safe enough to head out for a while.” Donna’s voice drifted through the hall.

“Do you mean it? I want to see Themyscira so bad!” Rachel sounded excited.

“I don’t know,” Dick heard your voice next, “besides these bogus calls we haven’t had anything in a long time. If there’s a good time I think it’s now .”

“You guys aren’t talking about leaving are you?” Dick came into the kitchen and took a seat at the large table.

“We’re in a lull, Dick. Can’t we take advantage of that for a while?” Kori questioned.

“What if something happens?” He insisted.

“Then we’ll come back and help.” Connor sounded resolute. “We’ll always come back, Dick we’re a team. But if there’s a chance for us to help Blackfire, I want to take it.” His eyes glanced to Kory who nodded.

“ So everyone wants to leave at once, is that right?” Dick hadn’t taken Jason and Rose leaving lightly. You could tell he was upset by the conversation.

“We aren’t LEAVING, leaving,” you assured him, “it’s just a break while things are slow. We’ve all been working so hard for over a year, taking a minute to breathe while we can isn’t a bad thing.” The frustration was clear in Dick’s eyes.

“We? Where do you think you’re going?” His tone was sharp, and you regarded him with a glare.

“I’m going to see my family and friends, Dick, it’s been a long time.” You didn’t like the way he phrased his question.

“Dick come on, don’t be like that.” Donna reproached him. “I want Rachel to come to Themyscira. She can learn from it, the women there can help her harness her powers. It’ll help us in the long run, you know that.”

Dick sighed and sat back with his arms above his head.

“Sooo…” he trailed off, “what’s the plan with everyone then?”

Donna and Rachel looked to each other, Kory, Conner and Gar shared a look as well. You just shrugged.

“Rachel and I have transport in two days, I figure that’s enough time to get things together. Besides we’ve kind of been waiting on an opportunity to leave for a while. This seems to be it.” Donna said, Rachel nodding with a wide smile beside her.

“Connor, Gar and I were kind of waiting too, we wanted to go help out when we had the time. It seems like now is a good time.” Kori spoke up.

“Gar too?” Dick looked up in confusion. Gar had a sly smile.

“Yeah, I wanted to see what they were getting to up to. When’s the last time you hung out with three aliens and an engineer to work on a space ship man?“ Gar looked to Dick. “I’ll come back the minute you need me!”

Dick looked crestfallen, glancing in your direction.

“Things seem to be okay here.” you said. “I’ll wait a week or so after everyone leaves to make sure things are good. Besides you can always call me.”

“Well it looks like everything’s tied up doesn’t it?” Dick stood with a frown and turned to leave.

“Dick!” Donna called out after him. She sighed.

“I’ll talk to him.” She promised looking to the group. “Don’t let him make you feel bad about this, any of you. We have lives, even though we’re a team we can do our own things. He’s just upset.” She disappeared down the same hallway Dick did.

“You look like you’re pouting.” You sat in the chair across from Dick. He had been sitting in the living room, eyebrows together, staring at his phone for an hour. He seemed to be taking Donna and Rachel’s departure somewhat hard.

“I don’t like seeing us split up.” He gave you a once over, trying not to focus his unhappy stare on you.

“Come on, we're hardly split up, we're just… doing something new.” You wanted him to see the situation in a different light. It was a chance to grow, not the ending of the team.

“We’re weaker when we’re not together.” The finality in Dick’s tone had you wondering what ran through his mind. You studied his hands, holding so much tension, they betrayed the stoicism he wanted to project.

“You’ve been fighting for so long, Dick.” You turned the words over before speaking them, meeting the piercing blue of Dicks’s stare which you now found locked with yours. “Don’t you think you deserve to rest?”

Something flashed for the briefest second across Dicks eyes, before he pulled them from yours. Something he didn’t want you to see, but you couldn’t place it.

“Don’t you think you deserve to rest?”

Dick replayed your question over and over again in his mind. He had never thought of it that way before. Rest had never been something that was important, it had to be earned, it was taken advantage of only when time allowed. You didn’t seem to see it like that. You saw Dick as a human being. He thought that’s how he viewed himself too, but maybe somewhere along the line his superhero mask never quite came all the way off after the job was done. Even outside the mask he expected himself to be perfect, someone who rose above the need for recharge. You saw through it. The tone of your voice when you asked almost made Dick cry. The gentleness of it, the sincerity, the concern.

“Don’t you think you deserve to rest?”

Yes, the answer to that was yes, it was so simple when you asked it. When Dick asked himself the same question he could never get a straight answer. But picturing those words leaving your lips, hearing you say it over and over in his head, the answer was a complete and resounding yes. Yes he did. And Dick made a promise to get it.

Dick was bored now that Donna and Rachel were gone, he couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d feel when he was here all alone. No, he wouldn’t stay in the tower alone, of course not. You’d be around. With Donna gone, Dick spent more time in the computer room. Scanning, researching, doing anything and everything he could do to stop crime before it started was almost more work then it was slow. There had to be some grand plan someone had, there was no reason for crime not to be sky high. Dick didn’t want to think about the more obvious answer- crime had gone down now that people knew the Titans were around to stop it.

It did give Dick more time to watch wherever you went in the tower, watching you train, cook, and eat. He had access to your phone all the time, so he found himself putting in an earbud whenever you listened to music, getting to know your music taste. Mostly the stuff you listened to while you trained was a lot of pop and faster paced music, but what you listened to on your off time was pretty good. Dick went through your music library and listened to your playlists sometimes when he was really bored, finding the names and vibes of each playlist incredibly cute.

When he went through your texts he was disappointed, you seemed eager to get out of the tower, take a break, to leave Dick all alone. He had to stop himself sometimes, bristling in anger when he spent too much time reading your excited texts and emails to your friends and family. Your friends and family were here, not out there, why wouldn’t you see this?

There were advantages to only having a few people in the tower, it gave you and Dick more time to spar and train, it meant you spent more of your time with Dick in general. He looked forward to it daily. Any excuse to get his hands on you, feel your soft skin, breathe in the way you smelled, Dick would take. You spent more time in the computer room, Dick was able to hover over you, brush hands when you were both working at the desk, to have you close. The two of you even started cooking dinner together, talking and laughing more than usual, growing closer. The two of you were more than friends, there was more to your relationship Dick knew it. Even if you didn’t.

It was kind of hard to adjust to Donna and Rachel being gone, truly you dreaded Kory, Conner and Gar leaving too. You had finally grown kind of close to them, loved them like family, began to form real trust. You just started having girl time with Donna and Kory in the evenings, had just begun to experiment with Rachel and her powers, and you and Gar were pretty much on the same level of sparring. You knew they’d be back but it would still suck for a week or two until you went on your vacation too. There were fewer people, which meant you had to become more versed in the damn giant computer and had fewer people to spar with.

You did notice that the only thing that seemed to lift Dick’s mood was being in close proximity to you. He was there to train you in the computer, there to spar with you and train you to fight. Every time Dick’s hand brushed against yours, every time he stayed on top of you just a little too long in the training room, every time he put his hands on your waist in the kitchen, you cursed yourself for your drunken kiss with him months ago. You thought you had shut it down but maybe you weren’t clear enough.

Of course as soon as these thoughts surfaced you brushed them away and cursed yourself again! You had no right to think Dick had an angle, he was always the sweetest, most patient and understanding person. Sparring meant sometimes Dick would end up on top of you, he was training you on the computer of course your hands would touch sometimes, working in the kitchen meant sometimes his hand would brush your waist as he moved past you. That’s what happened when you lived with people.

Both of these warring thoughts would tear your mind apart throughout the day, you couldn’t find an equilibrium and it drove you crazy.

The day of Kory, Conner and Gar’s departure pushed your complicated thoughts aside, focused on seeing them off and making sure they had everything they could need.

“Yes I have it!” Conner assured you for the fifth time. He may look like an adult but it was hard for you to stop babying someone with the emotional intelligence of a three year old. You worried even though you shouldn’t.

“I promise to take care of everyone.” Kory assured you, “and I promise to call if we need anything.” She had a sad smile but looked excited to see her sister.

“Okay…” it was hard to say goodbye but you knew she was right. Kory was more than capable of taking care of anything or anyone who crossed her path, you would never doubt her. “Gar do you…”

“Yes! I do!” Gar held up his backpack to reassure you.

The frown Dick was wearing hadn’t left his face all day, his crossed arms completed the disappointed look.

“I still don’t want you guys to go.” You thought maybe he was hoping his glare would convince them to stay.

“Dick if you need anything, just yell for me really, really loud. I’ll be back in seconds with the team.” Connor clapped Dick on the shoulder. Dick just shook his head.

You went ahead and gave everyone hugs and tried to stop fussing, assuring everyone that both you AND Dick would miss them dearly. Finally stepping back, you watched Connor grab Gar under the arms and take off into the sky with Kory. And they were gone.

You made dinner alone that night, Dick excusing himself to sulk you assumed. You promised to stay a week (or so) and were trying to find the shortest amount of days that would qualify as, or so. If nothing was happening, you figured you had about a 10 day stay until you could leave.

“Hey are you hungry?” You knocked on Dick’s partly open door.

“Not really.” His voice drifted from the room so you stuck your head in the door to see him.

“You know if you don’t eat you’ll die, right?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew he was upset and probably had no appetite but you also knew he would overdo himself on training the next day out of anger. That’s exactly what he had done the day after Jason and Rose left, and the day after Donna and Rachel left. He tried to hide the displeasure but you knew that’s what it was.

“I won’t die tonight.” He snapped, still only looking at the ceiling from where he lay on his bed.

“You’re really gonna pass on free food? I made it for both of us, don’t be rude!” You knew he had to get out of his head, out of his room even if it was just for dinner. Dick would sulk and simmer if he had his way.

“Fine.” He huffed out with a visible eye roll.

“There it is!” You’d take it. “Come out and eat with me!” You withdrew your head from the door, but also pushed it all the way open so Dick wasn’t hidden from the world. You walked away, hoping he’d come out soon.

Still grumbling, Dick made an appearance about five minutes later. His stomach rumbled even though he thought he wasn’t hungry. The smells coming from the kitchen made his mouth water and he reluctantly agreed you were right, that he did need to eat. The more he ate the more his mood improved, again stubbornly hating that you were right.

“Absinthe?” You held a bottle towards him. Immediately Dick realized you were just trying to make him feel better; that’s what dinner had been about, that’s why you drug him out of his room. The anger in his chest softened, his face finally clearing of the glare he carried all day. You cared about him, you proved it again, and you were the only person he would have allowed to force him to eat something. The smallest hint of a smile turned up his lips.

“Will you drink it too?” Dick asked, wondering how far you’d go to lighten his mood. You made a face and contemplated the bottle.

“One.” You held up a single finger.

“Just one?” He wondered aloud.

“Just one, then I’ll switch to something that won't make me immediately vomit. Fair?” You countered.

“Fair.” Dick finally smiled, you felt some pride in being able to bring it out.

“Straight up or on the rocks?” You asked, taking two rocks glasses from the cupboard.

“Straight,” you heard the reply from behind you.

You poured two glasses of green and made a face.

“Do you hate yourself?” You asked him, setting the glasses before you.

“Only sometimes,” the glint was back in his eye, his mood almost entirely improved. In one go, Dick knocked back the liquor. You made a face then followed his lead, shuddering as the fiery liquid hit your throat. He laughed at your expression. God you were the cutest thing in the whole world.

You stood and pulled a bottle from the cupboard, making yourself another drink, filling Dick’s glass with more absinthe.

“Remember when I got too drunk?” You asked him.

“Yeah, that was a good night.” Dicks eyebrows went up over his glass.

“That was a painful night and even worse morning after.” You corrected him. “I’ve got two more drinks in me and then it’s bedtime.”

Dick just chuckled again and nodded his head in agreement.

Two drinks later you were having an animated conversation, the liquor loosened both of you up to have a loud and somewhat personal conversation that didn’t usually happen. It wasn’t until the clock read 2 in the morning that you began to yawn and think about bed. Eventually you had to call it quits, placing the bottles back in the cupboard with wobbly hands. You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time, you were glad you could pull Dick from his thoughts and have fun with him even while he was sad.

Again he walked you to your room and got you a glass of water, his fingers running over your bedspread and pillows only briefly. This time Dick didn’t want to push his luck with a kiss, instead pulling you into a warm hug that lasted just a minute too long. He liked having you in his arms, he needed it. You fit so perfectly with him, you smelled so good, the soft sigh you let out was music to his ears.

The way you said goodnight in your sleepy voice replayed in his head as he watched the video feed in your room and got ready for bed.

Once again you had shown him you cared. That you cared about Dick SO MUCH that you’d even drink absinthe with him to get him to cheer up. You cooked for him, drank with him, stayed up with him, you CARED. Dick couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so thoughtful for him, the last time someone took care of him when he was having a tough time. Not only had you been there for him, you hadn’t judged him. You acted like it was nothing, just focused on making sure he felt better. It almost made him cry, but watching you fall asleep peacefully made Dick smile instead of letting tears fall.

Dick got up early, keeping an eye on you sleeping while he made breakfast. When he saw you finally get up, he poured your coffee the way he knew you liked it and had it ready for you once you made your way into the kitchen. Dick loved the way you looked in the morning, so sleepy and soft, your tired voice sweet. The oversized shirt and sweatpants you wore made Dick think about the way you’d look in HIS shirt, wearing HIS sweatpants. How it would feel to wake beside you and hear your sleepy morning voice every time he woke up.

“Thanks.” Your voice drug him from his thoughts, instead he turned to watch you take sips of coffee and start to wake up. Dick could watch you forever.

“Any hangover?” He asked, setting a plate of food in front of you.

“I’m actually okay, keeping to my limit helps instead of going overboard.” You took a bite, looking much better than you had the last time you had been out drinking.

The rest of the day was mostly spent in front of the computer, the two of you doing as much research and planning as you could. There were a lot of dead ends, not finding anything nefarious or illegal. Sometimes when there was no crime doing research was harder.

You spent the next week with Dick, the two of you sparring, researching, eating, talking. It was a nice break, there was quiet and alone time when you wanted, and parallel company when you felt like it.

The week drew to an end, and you started packing up what you had, excited to get out and see friends and family. Over dinner you broached the topic.

“Things have been slow. I’m taking off in a couple days, I wanted to let you know.” You paused between bites to tell Dick. You heard him choke on his food, looking up in concern when he coughed. Recovering with a drink of water, Dick looked at you with the same unhappiness he had when everyone else left.

“Don’t you like being here? It’s nice, just us here…” his thought trailed off, studying your face.

“I do like being here!” You assured him, “it’s just that it’s been over a year since I’ve seen my family. I deserve a rest too.”

Dick stabbed at his food and fell silent.

“Come on, talk to me don’t shut me out.” You insisted.

“I didn’t think you’d go until everyone was back.” Dick had largely abandoned his plate.

“Donna and Rachel are coming back soon, and things have been slow here. You don’t need me Dick.”

Never in his life had Dick heard a statement so incorrect. Of course he needed you, he always needed you, couldn’t you see that?

“I think you should wait.” He surveyed you and made you uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m sorry, I am. But I’m gonna be gone a month or two tops, I’m coming back.” You didn’t like his tone. He knew this was coming, that you were leaving. You had told him before Donna and Rachel left, he had been aware of it for a long time.

“And what happens when something big and bad wipes out half the city?” Anger laced his voice.

“Then you call me, you call the team and we’ll be here. Always. This isn’t me leaving it’s me taking a vacation.” You told him to call you if something bad happened, he knew you would still be accessible by phone.

Dick didn’t say a word.

“I know you don’t want to be here alone, I know you’re worried. Maybe you should take a vacation too?” If anyone deserved a break it was Dick Grayson.

“And abandon the city with no one to take care of it? Yeah right.” You expected an answer like this.

“The city has been okay without us Dick. Especially now we aren’t doing much. You need to go somewhere where you don’t have to worry about anyone but yourself.”

“That fantasy place doesn’t exist. I’ll always worry.”

“And it’ll give you a heart attack before you turn 30!” You were tired of his poisonous concern. It was killing him.

“Maybe so. But I’m not leaving because I want to lay in the sun and get a tan.” It was your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, I get it I won’t push you. But I am leaving in three days.” You stood up, put your plate in the dishwasher and left him to sit in his own discontentment.

“I feel bad about leaving him but it’s been over a year. I need a break.” Dick was listening into your phone conversation again, after you told him you were leaving. Good. You should feel bad about leaving. You should feel bad about leaving HIM. You should know you belong with Dick.

“Screw that, what kind of job makes you work seven days a week for a year without a vacation?” A woman’s voice replied. Screw that? It wasn’t like you were working to death, in fact lately you hadn’t been working at all, besides doing research and sparring with Dick. What other vacation could you want?

“I know I know, and I am excited. Just a little bit guilty.” Dick could hear the sadness in your voice and it gave him vindication. You WERE guilty, guilty of thinking of leaving him.

“No guilt allowed!” Came the other voice, “we’re gonna have such a good time you won’t even remember the city and the weird Titans you hang out with!”

Weird Titans? Did she mean your family? Your family of awesome super powered friends who kicked ass and served the community every night? Those weird friends? And forgetting about the city, about the tower? Dick opened and closed his fist, anger bubbling up as it had at dinner.

“Okay fine, you’re right I’m gonna enjoy this whole vacation. I’m gonna make myself!” Why would you agree to that?

“Yes!! We’re going to have SO MUCH FUN I can’t wait to see you!” The other voice on the phone was screaming now. Dick hung up as you continued to chatter, he couldn’t stomach the rest of the conversation. He took a few deep breaths and reminded himself that none of that was going to happen. You were going to stay here with Dick, not go gallivanting across the country for some shitty friends. No, you were not leaving.

The last thing to pack was your toothbrush, placing all your toiletries in a gallon bag and into your backpack. You had your clothes, all your essentials and you were ready to go! You looked around the room you had spent the last year in, sad to see it empty and clear of your belongings that made it home. You shook your head and made yourself smile, knowing you’d be back to make it look cute again in no time. You donned your backpack, dropping it in front of the elevators before walking down the hall to find Dick. He was so involved with the computer you weren’t sure he heard your footsteps.

“Hey.” You walked around the corner finding Dick in front of the computer, exactly where you expected to find him.

“What’s going on?” He closed out a few programs before turning the chair to face you.

“I’m heading out,” you twisted your keys in your hands, “I wanted to say goodbye.”

Dick stood, trying hard not to frown too much. You let him pull you into a hug, sad to leave the friend you had grown so close to. You knew it wouldn’t be long though, so stepping back with a smile was easy.

“I’ll be back soon Dick, I promise.” You smiled, he met your eyes with concern.

“You’ll call me if there’s any problems?” You tried not to laugh at the question.

“I thought I was supposed to ask you that.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You know if anything happens you can call me right? I don’t want to see you get hurt.” The sincerity in his voice was touching.

“I know Dick, thank you.” You meant it, he was making it harder to leave. You sighed, glancing to the exit. “I’ve gotta go.” You told him sadly. Dick just nodded as you walked out the door leaving him alone to the computers.

Wanted to say goodbye… goodbye…

Dick’s brain ground to a complete stop when he heard you, it took a second for him to tune back into your departure pleasantries. Goodbye… no, that wasn’t happening. Knowing the time was now, Dick barely focused on the goodbyes he gave you, knowing it wouldn’t mean much. You weren’t leaving. It wasn’t really goodbye. You stuttered over your words but eventually turned your back on him and left. Now was the time.

Typing in the codes Dick memorized weeks before, he sat back with his hands behind his head in the brief moment of satisfaction he was granted. He had this single fleeting moment before the chaos would begin.

Leaving Dick was hard, leaving the tower would be hard, you were sure your entire drive away would be hard to deal with. You knew you’d feel better around family again, and that you were coming back, but leaving somewhere you called home was always sad.

You picked up your backpack and hit the elevator button, waiting for it to light up and ding.

Nothing happened. The button didn’t light, you didn’t hear anything moving. Even the floor indicator wasn’t lit. As anyone would, you pressed the button a million times or so before you became satisfied that it was broken.

“Goddamn it,” you grumbled. When had the elevator ever broken? “Dick!” You called down the hallway. Retracing your steps, Dick met you halfway between the elevators and computer room looking concerned.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, confused that you were still around.

“The elevator’s broken.” You led the way back, pushing the button to show him. “See? What gives?”

Dick pressed the button a few times himself, before stepping away and dropping the concern from his face.

“It’s not going to work.” Dick found it almost impossible to hide his feelings, the mask of concern was hard to keep up. He was so close. And you still had no idea.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed with a sigh. “Guess I’m taking the stairs.”

Dick watched you take the few steps to the stairwell and pull the handle. When it wouldn’t open you tried again, jiggling it to try to make it work.

“That’s not going to work for you either.” Dick stood his ground, arms crossed, an amused look on his face.

“What are you talking about?” Your confusion was precious.

“I mean I disabled them. The elevators, the locking mechanisms.” His serious tone threw you.

“Dick, what are you talking about, this isn’t funny.” What was he thinking?

“I’m not trying to be.” Dick walked around you, not trying to crowd you. “I told you I didn’t want you to go.” The way he looked at you made you uneasy.

“And I told you I’m leaving.” Your face was set, you seemed determined to get out of the tower you most certainly were trapped in. “Unlock the doors.”

Dick laughed before finally coming close, snatching your arm out of the air when you tried to hit him.

“You still don’t get it do you?” Dick pulled you close, his eyes searching your face. “You belong here, you belong with me.”

Dick was surprised when you let him kiss you, attributing it to shock a second later when you hit him with the hand he wasn’t holding. Being much faster and stronger was no help when Dick took both your hands in one of his. You closed your eyes when he ran his hand over your cheek.