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𝙵𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙿𝚄𝙶𝙷 as 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙰 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙰

𝙻𝙴𝚆𝙸𝚂 𝙿𝚄𝙻𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙱𝙾𝙱 𝚁𝙴𝚈𝙽𝙾𝙻𝙳𝚂 𝙵𝙻𝙾𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙿𝚄𝙶𝙷 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙽𝙰 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙰

One  thing  Bob  had  always  been  known  for  ,      was  being  quick  to  laugh  about  something  he  found  funny.   His  timing  wasn't  always  the  best  ,  ──  but  he  wasn't  generally  a  malicious  person.   Most  of  the  time  ,  he  wasn't  prone  to  violence  unless  he  was  either   PUSHED   to  it  ,  or  protecting  someone  he  cared  about.         (  if  you  excused  the  times  when  his  violent  actions  were  substance  fueled.  )   Bob  didn't  like  fighting  ,  he  never  had.   He  also  didn't  like  hurting  people.

It  just  seemed  always  happen  no  matter  what  he  tried.

Her  joke  about  majoring  in  anarchy  did  well  to  help  make  Bob  more  secure.      This  was  far  from  his  first  rodeo  with  therapists  but  it  wasn't  always  easy.   He  did  however  ,  respond  a  little  more  ,  ──  the  more  they  exchanged  information  about  one  another.      Establishing  some  trust  before  diving  into  the  uncomfortable  stuff.   Something  he  hadn't  had  too  much  privilege  to  have  in  his  journey  of  mental  recovery.   Gail  was  really   SOMETHING  DIFFERENT.

Bob  nodded  when  it  clicked  ,      that  Anya  and  Jamie  must  have  been  the  connecting  piece  to  that  family.   A  look  of  realization  in  his  eyes  as  he  raised  a  hand  to  point  in  her  direction  to  emphasize  his  understanding.     ❝  Anya  and  Jamie  …  Right?  ❞     Of  course  he  knew  he  was  right.         (  even  with  the  family  resemblance  aside  they  were  near  images  of  their  dad.  )   Good  people  ,  even  though  he  could  tell  they  had  their  own  set  of  baggage  they  carried  around  …  FAMILY  TRADITION   he  supposed.

@snntry

Gail had entered her field of study with the full knowledge that she would be losing her fair share of SLEEP, and that it would be for a MULTITUDE of reasons. From the early-on intensity of the schooling that she had been through in order to get her license...to the absolutely BRUTAL REALITY of the lives that people lived when then were forced to act against their own self-interest. Such a cruel fate could befall anyone at any time, to varying degrees.

Nodding her head softly in confirmation to the first names of the Barnes Twins, Gail took a deep breath as she carefully considered the WORDING that she was going to use. Both for the sake of doctor-patient confidentiality...and because of the slightly different nature of Bob's circumstances. She wanted to focus on making sure that he didn't feel as though he was ALONE in how he was feeling. That there WAS hope to be found for a real future, regardless of the past.

She pressed the final button for the checkout and turned the tracking on for their order so that she could ensure some poor DOORDASH employee didn't have to be greeted with security measures. Or Alexei.

"Actually," she corrected him with a small smile tugging at her lips as she tucked her phone away so that she could more visibly give him her attention, "other than the...super aspects of Anya's past, her condition fell right into my specialty; FORCED COMBATANTS."

Adjusting her weight on her feet slightly and the folder in her arms with the same casual movement, she gave him an empathetic and knowing glance.

"It's a pretty vast spectrum, actually. I've known cases as domestic as parents using their children against one another...and I've known some as extraordinary as Anya's, Jamie's, Bucky's...and YOURS." There was a small tightness in her throat that she had long since learned to live with, even if the weight carried in her chest somewhat.

"You've got some biological enhancements, but at your core, you're a HUMAN BEING. Bucky asked for me because he knows that you deserve a chance to live your life as your own, and to get to know YOURSELF better. He knows you're worth knowin', Bob." Her smile brightened some.

"ALL OF YOU...is worth knowing."

Bob  wasn't  without  his  own  facets  that  made  him  unique  and  valuable.   After  all  ──  it  had  been  because  of  him  that  they  were  able  to  get  out  of  the  elevator  shaft.   However   abstract   that  help  might  have  seemed  at  the  time  ,      it  had  been  crucial  help  that  got  them  further  along.   Bob's  anxiety  and  depression  liked  to  attack  the  easiest  spots  of  his  person  to  dash  the  confidence  he  had.   So  much  of  Bob's  life  had  been  spent  alone.   Away  from  his  family  who    didn't  want  him.         (  eventually  he  became  so  desperate  for  interaction  that  he  made  due  with  the  dark  thoughts.  )   Contradictory  thoughts  simply  didn't  make  sense  most  of  the  time.      Something  that  would  hopefully  improve  with  these  very  interactions.

It  was  clear  that  she  was  different  from  most  of  the  therapists  he  had  in  his  lifetime.         (  most  of  them  simply  growing  tired  of  him  and  cutting  ties  before  any  progress  could  be  made.  )   ──  Adding  another  chink  in  the  walls  ,      in  order  to  build  up  new  ones  of  solitude.   Bob  could  be  in  a  room  full  of  people  ,  and  still  find  himself  feeling   incredibly  alone.   But  in  moments  like  this  ,  when  he  could  focus  on  something  about  someone  else  ,  that  was  actually  often  times  when  he  would  offer  little  bits  of  himself  for  people  to  see.   Underlined  with  the  presentation  of  wanting  to  know  more  about  them.

❝  Sounds  wild!   One  of  those  every  night?  ❞   That  last  part  was  spoken  out  in  slight  disbelief.   Not  in  any  way  to  shame  her  ,      which  had  become  his  initial  worry  explaining  his  wide  eyes  and  frantic  head  shake.   ❝  I  mean  ,  how'd  you  do  it?   I  probably  would've  puked  before  getting  to  the  end.  ❞   Not  true  ,  Bob  could've  put  that  back  if  he  wanted  to.         (  food  had  been  a  long  time  passion  for  him.  something  nobody  in  his  family  managed  to  ruin.  )   Still  ,  it  did  nothing  short  of  impressing  him.   Evident  in  the   genuine  smile   he  offered  at  her  story.

As  it  turned  out  ,  Bob  liked  hearing  about  other  people's  lives  as  much  as  he  could.         (  mostly  because  it  always  seemed  more  interesting  to  him  than  his  own  life.  )   or  at  the  very  least  not  nearly  as  nightmarish  and  cringe  worthy.   His  life  didn't  have  stories  like  ordering  burgers  in  a  college  town  ,      it  was  too  full  of  people  walking  out  the  door  or  rather  pushing  him  out  of  it.   Eventually  ,  he  found  himself  fascinated  with  hearing  the  stories  other  people  had  about  their  lives.         (  like  taking  a  relaxing  view  into  someone's  life  to  see  what  it  might  be  like.  )   too  afraid  to  join  in  for  the  fear  of  somehow   ruining  it.

@snntry

No matter how severe the mental illness that a patient was suffering with, she never saw anything good come of those people being approached as though they were FERAL ANIMALS. During her studies, she had seen her fair share of instances that made her question how some so-called PROFESSIONALS managed to keep their licenses.

Rather than taking that DAMAGING approach, she had always found that being genuine with the people that she was treating, more often than not, begun to feel comfortable enough to slowly begin allowing their own true selves to come through. Bringing down emotional walls with a wrecking ball wasn't the approach that produced results. Taking a hammer and chisel would make it all far more painless, and it would make recovery feel a little more NATURAL.

Bob's smile was contagious, and Gail was grateful to see it after the brief flash of panic that she'd seen in the man's eyes. She wasn't remotely bothered by his remark, even before his explanation, but she didn't stop him from explaining nonetheless. In return, she was able to be graced with his sense of humor. It was nice. It was GOOD-NATURED.

"Mm, no, not an old college buddy," the doctor confirmed, "pretty sure ya can't major in ANARCHY. No uh," she huffed a laugh, "no, I know Bucky because his children are patients of mine. Have been for a good while, now."

Bob  kept  a  generous  ,  but  healthy  distance  from  Gail.   There  wasn't  the  gut  instinct  to  get  out  of  there  ,      but  a  vetting  period  still  felt  needed  given  …  well  everything  that  had  happened.   Part  of  him  felt  bad  about  it  ,   ──   but  he  couldn't  really  blame  himself  given  the  track  record  of  meeting  people  who  claimed  to  have  good  intentions.         (  up  until  meeting  the  team  it  seemed  that  anyone  who  offered  help  just  wanted  something  from  him.  )   He  could  trust  Bucky  though  ,      and  Bucky  had  said  she  was  good  people.   It  was  the  very  thing  keeping  from  from  trying  to  make  more  space  between  the  two  of  them.

He  couldn't  help  but  perk  up  a  little  more  at  the   gleeful  response   the  suggestion  got  ,  but  not  very  noticeable  even  still.      Bob  found  himself  scoffing  when  she  said  he  had  great  taste.      (  shaking  his  head  passively  to  brush  it  off  of  himself.  )    “Nah  ,  wouldn't  have  known  about  it  without  Walker  suggesting.”   He  passed  off  credit  to  others  easily  ,   ──   and  liberally   much  of  the  time.      He  had  learned  to  go  without  things  like  praise  early  on  in  life.   In  fact  ,  before  he  was  even  a  young  man  ,  flattery  had  been  something  that  made  him  uncomfortable.

“So  really  the  credit  of  good  taste  should  goo  to  him.”   He  gestured  off  to  the  side  lazily  for  emphasis.      Though  he  did  start  to  take  a  few  steps  further  into  the  room  ,  ──  to  attempt  to  meet  her  more  in  the  middle.   “I'm  more  of  the  follow  other  people's  taste  t'get  by  kind  of  guy.”

@snntry

"Havin' good taste isn't a matter of who discovered it first, it's just knowing a good thing when ya see it. Besides, I'm sure Mr. Walker had to be told about it as well, and so on, and so on...all the way back to th' guy that FOUNDED IT." Gail smiled knowingly and continued on with the order.

Diminishing one's own achievements and positive qualities was, at its core, a defense mechanism. After a person was told so many times by the people in their life that were supposed to care for them, that they weren't anything EXCEPTIONAL, or worse yet, that they WEREN'T GOOD ENOUGH, it left a lasting impression that internalized and festered. From what Bucky had told her about his physicality, he was, for all intents and purposes, A GOD-LIKE BEING. It was more complicated than that, of course, and even more so with Bob's alters having varying opinions and powers of their own...but the structure of his DNA was seemingly flawless.

Yet he was still very capable of believing that he genuinely WASN'T ENOUGH. That spoke volumes to Gail as to why she was grateful to be there to talk with him. Mental illness didn't care if you were a standard civilian or an enhanced super-being; it hit all the same.

There were options to put ingredients on the side, and she did LOVE a custom burger. As she was procuring their lunch, Bob even took the initiative to ask her something about herself. Gail's smile brightened somewhat both at the courteousness and at the nostalgia as she thought back to her time in college. It only took her a couple of moments to recall the order that she had recited for years, night after night.

"Th' BEAST that I used t' order was called JUICY-LUCY BURGER with Cajun fries and a chocolate milkshake. This thing was MASSIVE, I can't believe I didn't have a heart attack at 23." Gail scoffed at herself, rolling her eyes playfully.

"I'm talkin' four patties, on four slices of American cheese, onion, pickle, Roma tomato, and mixed greens, topped with mayo, mustard and ketchup. Then I'd take the fries and I'd put some of them on the burger too. People looked at me like I was a MONSTER, it was fantastic." She sighed wistfully before seemingly catching herself in a bunny trail.

"Sorry, you didn't ask for my autobiography," she shook her head a little. "At any rate, I got the fixings on the side, so we can BUILD-A-BURGER."

He  knew  that  therapy  was  simply  a  thing  that  was  going  to  happen  for  him.   The  only  concern  he  had  ever  brought  up  ,      being  that  he  worried  it  wouldn't  work  for  him.   That  maybe  he  was    too  broken     for  therapy.   Every  time  he  had  made  a  comment  about  it  though  ,  that  thought  process  was  quickly  put  to  rest  by  any  means  the  team  needed.   This  was  more  than  Bob  getting  his  Sentry  powers  back.         (  this  was  about  making  sure  bob  was  going  to  be  okay.  )   Something  Bob  hadn't  even  experience  with  his  family.

The  only  times  they  ever  cared  about  him  getting  help  ,  was  when  he  was  causing  them  problems.

That  wasn't  what  was  happening  though.   A  fact  that  Bob  was    THANKFULLY     aware  of.   Despite  the  fears  he  had  surrounding  what  he  had  done  to  the  people  of  New  York  ,  to  his  friends  ,      there  was  a  part  of  him  that  enjoyed  how  strong  he  was  for  a  change.   It  created  an  impossible  storm  of  both  longing  to  control  that  power  ,  as  well  as  a  real  fear  of  ever  getting  close  to  that  point  ever  again.

It  couldn't    POSSIBLY     be  worth  it.   Right?

For  now  though  ,  he  could  look  forward  to  the  idea  of  lunch.      Evident  in  the  way  he  perked  up  when  she  asked  what  he  liked  to  eat.   Before  coming  here  ,  food  was  what  he  could  find.   What  he  could  afford  ,    what  he  could  lift  before  bailing  to  go  catch  up  with  his  friends.   Luckily  for  him  ,  he  had  been  responding  positively  to  the  influx  of  food  available.         (  and  the  nice  budget  they  had  to  keep  the  fridges  stocked  full  all  the  time.  )

It was commonplace to find that patients were NERVOUS about their first meeting with any mental health professional, and Bob was no exception to that rule. On any given day, there were a number of things that would weigh heavily on Gail's heart and mind, but when she was meeting with her patients, she gave them the best of everything that she had. Gail's OWN THERAPIST told her that she was a little bit of a workaholic...and she was CORRECT.

Just as Bob did though, the Doctor wanted to be better, so that she could help as many people possible within the time that she had on planet earth. A longing for a sense of PURPOSE was a facet of an almost shared human consciousness across the board. THE HUMAN CONDITION had always been a deep fascination that Gail had throughout her life in one way or another, and the more she sought to know people and their genuine selves, the better she understood, and the more that she could contribute in the way of research.

Hearing some of the nervousness lifting away from his voice, and moreover just being able to hear his voice better in general, the doctor felt a warmth in her chest. There was still visible anxiety in Bob's body language, but he was PERCEPTIVE, and that was what really mattered.

"Ooh..." there was a glint of joy and excitement in her eyes as she admired his choice, "I LOVE that place. It's been too long since I got it." She casually pulled her phone out and begun to look for the needed app to order the food from the restaurant. With the same hand that was holding the phone, she gestured to him with her index finger softly.

"Ya got great taste, Bob," she spoke with a casual but sincere fondness in her tone, "I like th' way you think." She nodded a few times with pursed lips as she made a good amount of selections. "Hand t' God, I wouldn't have gotten through grad school if I didn't have a burger joint down the road from my campus."

He  had  a  feeling  that  Bucky  was  gonna  try  and  find  someone  for  him  to  talk  to.      He'd  been  asking  questions  that  seemed  like  he  was  shopping.   Bob  had  been  through  this  song  and  dance  before.   The  whole  looking  for  a  therapist.         (  he  might  not  have  been  good  at  showing  it  yet  …  but  he  was  enthusiastic  to  make  progress.  )   He  was  also  nervous  though.   Understandable  ,      given  the  damage  he  had  done  not  all  that  long  ago.   Weeks  were  turning  into  months  quickly  though.

Bucky  was  right.   He  needed  to  talk  to  someone.

Bob  knew  she  was  coming.      Bucky  was  good  enough  to  give  him  a  heads  up.   He  also  did  his  best  to  make  sure  Bob  didn't  stress  out  about  it  too  much.         (  fat  chance.   stressing  about  stuff  was  what  he  was  best  at.  )   He  focused  that  nervous  energy  on  making  sure  the  tower  was  clean  ,      as  well  as  cleaning  up  with  a  shower  and  something  relatively  nice  but  still  casual.   He  still  didn't  have  a  whole  lot  people  didn't  give  him  ,  but  he  was  also  not  getting  out  much.

Gail  was  …  Nice.   He  had  a  therapist  like  her  for  a  little  while  was  a  kid.         (  the  comparison  pretty  obvious  from  her  manner  of  speaking.  )   He  gave  a  small  smile  ,      followed  by  an  equally  as  small  wave  in  greeting.   He  wasn't  satisfied  with  that  though.   He  scrunched  his  nose  at  the  idea  of  Mr.  Reynolds.   Shaking  his  head  with  some  annoyance  ,    but  obviously  not  at  her.   “Mr.  Reynolds  is  what  my  dad  went  by.   Nah  ,  B-Bob's  just  fine.”   He  offered  that  small  smile  again.   This  one  just  a  little  bit  bigger  than  the  last  time.      The  offer  to  talk  lands  on  his  ears  in  a  familiar  way.   Shoulders  losing  their  tension  slightly  as  he  shrugged.   She  was  a  friend  of  Bucky's.   She  couldn't  be   that  bad.

While there had been a thought to have their first time meeting being over a video call, Gail had ultimately decided to comply with that request were it asked for, but she wouldn't try to INSIST upon it. Really, she would always prefer being able to sit across from her patients as she spoke to them. There were small gestures, subtle expressions which allowed for a glimpse into the inner workings of people, whether brief or otherwise. She hadn't become a doctor so that she could sit back complacently and check boxes off on forms before writing a few prescriptions and calling it a day.

When she entered her field, it had been done in an effort to make a legitimate DIFFERENCE in the world. It was no coincidence that she had chosen to specialize in BIO, MILITARY, and PERSONALITY PSYCHOLOGY. Her most narrow focus was on those individuals that had been used as child soldiers.

Bob was NO CHILD, though. He'd been made into a weapon a little later in his life, much like Bucky had, and there was a difference, when age was considered, in the scars that such treatment left on a person. Not worse or better, just DIFFERENT. Gail, she was the kind of psychologist that observed all facets that she could of a patient.

That reflected in the FILE that she was carrying.

The laugh that fell from her lips was a little SHEEPISH after mass of the folder was pointed out, and the doctor looked down briefly before bringing her glance back to him.

"Well, yes, this IS your file, and it IS pretty big..." she lead with, offering a small tilt of her head as she held up the item in question for emphasis, "but that's partially because of my own refusal to omit details that I find to be important. It takes a little longer to assess, of course, but it lets me better understand and help my patients. I figure, if I'm able to take note of something, I should, right?"

She looked out to the surrounding area. One thing that she and Bucky had agreed on immediately had been that the first meeting should be in the tower, for BOB'S COMFORT, more than anything.

IT  WASN'T  EVERY  DAY  YOU  MANAGED  TO  FIND  A  THERAPIST  WHO  COULD  COUNCIL  SOMEONE  LITERALLY  FUSED  WITH  A  SPACE  STONE.

        None  of  that  had  been  enough  to  stop  her  from  continuing  her  efforts  to  HELP  ANYA.   Give  her  a  real  chance  to  move  forward  in  life  after  everything  she  had  been  through.   Which  even  for  most  adults  ,  had  been  far  too  much.   It  was  this  persistence  to  get  through  to  the  child  ,  that  Anya  leaned  on  in  order  to  process  what  had  been  said.   While  she  WANTED  to  help  ,  she  was  beginning  to  see  how  her  being  there  was  likely  going  to  only  result  in  the  others  being  DISTRACTED.

        ❝  I  worry.  ❞   She  admitted  finally  ,  eyes  cast  across  the  room  while  she  continued  to  process  her  feelings.   ❝  If  I  can't  see  them  ,  I  can't  help  them.   Then  I  just  worry  …  Something  will  go  wrong.  ❞

@kobikd

Gail knew since she was a teenager that she wanted to become a THERAPIST. After she had taken that route in her life and started going to college for psychology, she had come to see a clearer picture of her calling. Especially after reading some particular case studies that involved CHILD SOLDIERS. So many kids that were never given a chance to feel love, only VIOLENCE. Rarely had those stories had a happy ending...

Gail wanted to help people have the opportunity to REWRITE THEIR STORY. And taking on ANASTASIA WINNIFRED BARNES as a patient had been fueled by that motivation, amongst many other reasons. The therapist had been relieved and ecstatic to have connected to well with the child from the beginning, and since their first session, she had done all that she could to be there for them.

COSMIC CUBE, TESSERACT, SPACE STONE...

Those words meant little to her. At the end of the day, Anya was a CHILD. They were a PERSON. Gail showed them the respect that they deserved, and spoke to her as an equal.

"It makes a lot of sense, that you worry," came her assurance as she smiled at them, "that's the thing about loving people; at some point, you WILL worry about them. The best way that I've found to combat that worry, is to try to focus more on how much I TRUST the people I love. How much FAITH I have that they'll make it home alright, and how the proof is that they've come home every time so far."

        ❝  I  can  help  …  I  can  fight.  ❞

@kobikd

"Honey, there's not a doubt in my mind that you can do EITHER of those things." Gail moved to place her hands upon Anya's shoulders and looked to the child with only compassion and concern for them.

"Right now though, the best way you can help, is by steering clear of the fight."

With  the  wound  as  taken  care  of  as  it  was  𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚝𝚘  𝚋𝚎  ,    the  next  task  they  needed  to  set  their  mind  to  had  been  getting  some  𝙵𝙾𝙾𝙳.  It  was  likely  the  reason  why  she  hadn't  heard  the  woman  approaching.  Or  more  accurately  ,    hadn't  𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍  𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.  It  wasn't  that  her  hearing  had  been  damaged  at  all .. But  it  was  obvious  that  she  had  been  focusing  on  one  thing  over  everything  else.

The  second  the  woman  had  spoken  ,    &  made  her  presence  known ... Anya  had  jolted  back.  There  was  a  near  𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻  look  in  her  eyes.  The  last  time  she  ran ... She  had  fallen  for  HYDRA's  trick  ,    &  wasn't  about  to  fall  for  it  again.  She  heard  her  ,    but  also  𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍  𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝  𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎.  While  primarily  she  spoke  Russian  ,    they  still  remembered  the  English  language  fairly  well.  She  recognized  the  accent  too ... But  that  was  still  a  little  𝙵𝚄𝚉𝚉𝚈  for  her.

At  face  value  ,    she  𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍  𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜  𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑  ,    but  that  could  just  as  easily  been  a  trick.  It  was  before.  One  green  eye  ,    &  one  blue  one  stared  back  at  the  woman.  Studying  her  &  waiting  for  any  movements.  Looking  for  any  sort  of  ear  piece  ,    but  also  𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶.  In  the  halls  ,    in  the  other  rooms  ,    out  in  the  alleyway  outside  of  the  building.  Listening  for  any  sort  of  suggestion  that  she  had  been  sent  in  to  𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝚘𝚞𝚝  𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢.  A  smart  tactic.  But  she  wasn't  planning  on  leaving  this  building.

@oozeyboozey

Gail had dealt with a few kids in her time as a counselor at the Synagogue, but those children had been there under their PARENTS' SUPERVISION. Or at the very least, their parents' BEHEST. Beyond that, the experience that Gail had with children was a bit limited. Mostly to the time that she visited with her friends that happened to have children.

She didn't have any children of her own just yet, and she didn't have any LIVING siblings. She'd had a younger sister, but she had lost Rachel when she had been 10, and Rachel had been 5.

Regardless though, any previous experience with kids wasn't going to prepare her for the child before her. There was a beautiful peculiarity about the child's eyes, the blue-green heterochromia not being something she'd ever seen in her life.

Gail had GASPED SOFTLY when Anya had met her gaze and begun to DESPERATELY create more space between them, but she had also known to take the hint for the moment and not get any closer.

Wait...BLUE-GREEN HETEROCHROMIA...

Her mind flashed back to the man that had come to see her a few days prior, how he had barely been keeping it together as he explained that his children were both MISSING, and he had been following the first hint that he'd had in MONTHS, but he'd lost the trail.

BUCKY...that was what he'd called himself.

She figured this had to be one of the twins that he had told Gail about. The counselor rolled her lips briefly in thought as she took a deep breath and exhaled softly through her nose. She had to approach this CAREFULLY, as by the looks of this child, they had certainly been through the WRINGER.

"I think...I think I might know your dad," she offered in a gentle tone. "He said he was looking for his kids, twins. He said you've got REALLY PRETTY eyes." Gail offered a tender smile, still not trying to close in on the child at all.

"He called you his 'babygirl'...does that sound like him?"

They  didn't  know  𝚆𝙷𝚈  they  had  run.  It  hadn't  worked  the  first  time  in  the  end ... But  just  like  before ... 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚊  𝚑𝚊𝚍  𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍  &  they  wanted  out.  There  had  been  a  fight  within  them  selves.  Two  parts  𝙵𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶  over  going  back  to  the  base  ,    taking  whatever  punishment  they  had  in  store  for  them ... &  the  instinct  to  𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙  𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙷𝚎𝚛  𝚍𝚊𝚍  𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍  𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎  𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍  𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝚝𝚘  𝚍𝚘  𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

That  had  𝚄𝙻𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙻𝚈  been  what  kept  them  going  instead  of  going  back  to  the  outpost  they  had  set  up  while  they  needed  her  stateside.  It  wasn't  a  𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕  𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎  ,    &  in  her  experience ... They  tended  to  only  bring  her  in  when  the  𝙰𝙱𝚂𝙾𝙻𝚄𝚃𝙴𝙻𝚈  needed  to.

Having  them  in  Brooklyn  was  risky  enough.  But  it  took  the  mark  saying  𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳  ,    sounding  just  enough  like  their  dad  did  when  he  started  remembering  himself  ,    &  it  was  like  all  of  a  sudden  𝚊  𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑  𝚑𝚊𝚍  𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗  𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍.  Anya  took  over  ,    &  they  took  out  as  many  agents  as  they  needed  before  they  had  taken  off.

" We  don't  know  Brooklyn! "  " We'll  figure  it  out! "  " But  we've  never  been  here  before ... &  what  about  the   tracker? "

The  argument  played  in  her  head.  𝙷𝙰𝚄𝙻𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶  her  in  her  tracks  so  she  could  come  up  with  the  next  𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢  𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐  part  of  her  impromptu  runaway  plan.  This  had  to  work  this  time.  She  had  a  𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙳  𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴  believing  they  were  going  to  let  her  get  away  with  anything  less  than  what  she  got  last  time.  (though  she  was  honestly  expecting  more  if  she  got  caught.)    So  they  couldn't  get  caught.

Which  meant  that  tracker  needed  to  come  out  now.

It  had  been  𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺𝚈  ,    &  they  had  likely  done  it  on  purpose.  It  required  Anya  to  take  up  camp  in  a  gas  station  bathroom.  The  𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗  𝚘𝚏  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚜  of  a  first  aid  kit  that  was  needed  to  make  sure  they  𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚈𝙴𝙳  𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴  when  they  attempted  this.  Then  they  got  to  work.  The  bleeding  was  bad.  If  this  hadn't  be  for  their  survival ... they  might  have  felt  bad  for  the  poor  gas  station  attendant  that  was  going  to  find  the  state  of  that  bathroom.  𝙱𝚞𝚝  𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜  𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝  &  𝚊𝚕𝚕  𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

Next  ,    they  set  out  to  find  a  means  of  𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙻𝚃𝙴𝚁  after  ditching  the  tracker  in  a  storm  drain.  The  options  were ... Incredibly  limited.  Every  option  seemed  either  𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚢  𝚝𝚘  𝚋𝚎  𝚜𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌  ,    or  just  as  risky  as  the  other  position  she  could  be found  in.  Not  to  mention  their  vision  was  starting  to  blur.  &  everything  was  starting  to  sound  like  they  were  underwater.

" Давай ... Надо  продолжать  двигаться. "    She  heard  the  voice  as  clear  as  the  one  she  heard  on  a  𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙻𝚈  𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝚂  Urging  her  to  get  up  &  keep  moving  before  𝚒𝚝  𝚠𝚊𝚜  𝚝𝚘𝚘  𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎  𝚏𝚘𝚛  𝚑𝚎𝚛.  They  gritted  their  teeth  ,    &  pushed  through  to  keep  going  ,    to  their  reward  ,    happening  upon  a  𝚂𝚈𝙽𝙰𝙶𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴  ,    &  taking  this  as  a  sign  to  take  the  shelter  now  before  that  too  late  moment  came.

@oozeyboozey

This wouldn't be the first time Gail had been working late. She didn't mind it most nights. In fact, she found a certain sense of PEACE in it more often than not. The Synagogue itself was peaceful, and it was a building with MUCH HISTORY, giving the space a feeling of warmth and familiarity, even to those that had never been there before.

What Gail DID get frustrated with, was being STUMPED. She had been offering counseling to a young couple that had asked for it before they allowed themselves to get married. The idea in itself was sweet and thoughtful, but the two of them still seemed to be in the stages of their relationship where everything was surface level, and the small hiccups seemed to add up very quickly until they were bickering.

She was due to see them again tomorrow, and she knew that she needed to be able to tell them SOMETHING HELPFUL, just for the sake of making a meaningful and positive impact. Rather than being the last memory the couple had together before they BROKE UP.

A sigh had left her lips when she heard the sudden clatter of the pots and pans within the kitchen. Gail stood entirely, even her breathing. While the building was a SAFE HAVEN, that didn't mean that there weren't those that would see that haven destroyed. She reached over to the space near her coatrack, grabbing her BASEBALL BAT just in case. If it turned out to just be someone hungry, she would help. If they had anything more SINISTER in mind...she knew how to use that bat.

Coming out of her office, she rounded the corner with her steps measured and quiet. Gail kept herself vigilant and moved further down the hall until she reached the kitchen. Peeking around the corner...she was met with the sight of a CHILD.

An INJURED CHILD.

"Oh my God..." she breathed, her brows furrowed with apparent concern and empathy within her eyes. She immediately set the bat down to lean against the wall, taking a couple of slow steps towards this girl.

"Is that your blood, sweetheart?" she asked softly. "Are you hurt? I can help."