☆ ☆ ☆

Chewing at his thumb nail, Tony stared off out the large window of the cafe, concerning himself with staying tucked away in the corner and far more focused on drinking his third latte than he was about being spotted or approached by someone. He hadn’t even bothered with a disguise, figuring that most folks wouldn’t normally look for him in this area of the city.

But there was always times for him to be wrong, and when he sighted a shadow loom from behind him, Tony stopped chewing at his nail and paused, gripping for his latte before turning slowly to look up at his new found friend. God he hoped it was a friend. “Is it the window seat? Is it yours? Because I can move. I just thought ‘wow! what a lovely sight to behold!’ and then planted my happy butt right here.” He paused and eyed them, “or are you interested in speaking with moi?”

Steve had been on his way home after visiting an old friend when he spotted Tony from across the street. He had to do a double-take at first because... this area wasn’t exactly Stark taste (and, he knew Stark taste after knowing two generations of the men). At first, he hesitated and didn’t want to bother Tony, but the way he looked: staring off into space, chewing on his fingernails. Something was off. So, despite recent disagreements, he carried himself into the small cafe.

He stepped in and offered a smile to the woman running the counter before turning his body to cross the room to where Tony was. It was probably awkward to stand there in silence for a moment, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to approach the man just yet. Tony made that decision for him, however, and acknowledged him first.

     “Bring your first aid kit to my room,” As if that wasn’t any worst than being alone with a stranger and his car.. “I want to take my weight off it. Plus, there’s a sink so you can wash your hands.”

     Taking the extra room key out of the folded bit of paper that held the key cards in, Raven handed it over. “Room 212. Knock before entering.”

Steve took a step back, his hands coming up in a defensive way. “No, no. I wasn’t... inviting you back to my car, that’s - that’s dangerous, ma’am,” he admitted. For her, more than him. Not that he was underestimating her. He didn’t know this lady, she could be a black belt in some form of fighting. He wasn’t going to try and go up against her. But, if it were any other guy besides him, he definitely wouldn’t suggest going to a car with a stranger.

Waiting at a shop counter for a slice of pizza, Carol could hear some excited commotion up ahead - something about a Captain? Taking a bite of her pizza, she turned, confused, and saw none other than Steve Rogers, smiling as he sat for a photo with two kids. “Cute,” she mused, laughing softly to herself. She handed the employee her credit card again, taking another slice of pizza and beginning to close the distance between them.

“Love one. Figure the artist might appreciate a snack, though.” Carol smirked as she held out the paper plate to Steve. “How’ve you been, Rogers?”

Snack caught his eyes and Steve couldn’t help but look up. It was odd that after all these years with the serum flowing actively in his body, he still felt like he was starving every second of the day. He never could get enough calories to make up for what his body used. He was even more pleased to see Carol on the other side of the offered plate, though.

He stood up from his seat and put the sketchpad aside momentarily to greet her. “Danvers,” he replied with a smile, taking the plate but again, more important matters were at hand so he put it down on the small table he had set-up so he could pull her into a hug very suddenly. 

     These dreams. These nightmares. These memories.

     With a scream and a blast of energy much like the one she unleash back when they had been fighting that robot army, Wanda bolted upright in bed. Beads of sweat clung to her face, her heart racing as if she had just been taken right out of a fight. Which, it might just look like she was in the middle of judging by what was around her. Everything in her room was knocked over, a few things even broken due to the girl’s untamed powers. Chaos. Just like what her mind felt.

     Breathing heavily, Wanda almost reached out for her phone to text her brother.. to ask him to come home. He didn’t need to have this added onto his shoulders though. She shouldn’t burden him with another bad dream.      So covering her face, Wanda just ducked her head against her knees. It was just a dream, it was just a dream..

Steve had been in the training room until early hours of the morning. Which was honestly a normal occurrence for him. What wasn’t normal was finding out someone was on awake on his way to his room to get at least an hour or two of shut-eye before he was expected up for breakfast.

The crashing sounds had him on alert, but once he saw they came from Wanda’s room, he wasn’t expecting a burglary anymore. He knew Wanda struggled with her powers, which was why she was in training. He wished he could help her more, but he was a little lost when it came to the magic department.

it was times like these that part of him missed bucharest. not that new york wasn’t an equally beautiful city in it’s own way, because it was, but new york was filled with ghosts of his past. people who might actually recognize him. that was why he hadn’t lingered long after pulling steve out of that river. he knew steve and that falcon guy had been looking for him. he knew nat had been helping them. the only difference was that nat had actually managed to find him. she hadn’t told steve, per his request. james wasn’t sure he was ready to face steve again. steve probably wanted his friend back. his best friend. bucky. but james wasn’t sure if he could be that person again. he wasn’t sure if he deserved that nickname.

while on a walk, he stops dead in his tracks when he spots him. легок на помине, he thinks to himself. he sighs. despite his better judgement, he heads in steve’s direction. he’d been living in the avengers compound for a few weeks now, and avoiding steve when he lived in the same huge building wasn’t always easy. he’d managed it. albeit, barely. he stops in front of steve, unsure of what to say. “no, thanks,” he answers. “hey, punk.”

Steve gave a nod and squint at the answer to his question. Once the sun was rudely out of his eyes with a hand over his brow, his pencil was pressed into the paper like a dead-weight as he stared in what could only be described as shock. The punk would have gave it away a million times over if he hadn’t been looking at the man eye to eye. 

Of course, he knew Bucky was alive. He’d known it for awhile now, but found himself unable to track the man down. And, he had tried. Brainwashed or not, working for HYDRA or not, this was Bucky. And, maybe his Bucky would have a hard time coming back and getting things remotely close to how they had been oh-so-many-years ago, but Steve didn’t care. As long as they were side-by-side again.

“Buck,” he breathed out as he pushed himself out of his chair, sketch pad and pencil hitting the concrete of the boardwalk carelessly. “What... You’re -- here,” he struggled to find his words. 

     “You should be more careful,” Raven said a bit bitterly, shifting her weight back to her good leg. He of course, seemed to have noticed that she was indeed hurt, and so a lie was easily spouted. “I fell off my bike.” Had anyone ever stabbed Captain America in the leg before? Did he know of what to look for in that type of injury? Who knows, but if he did look closer.. Raven made sure to shape shift a bruise along with broken skin near where she was actually hurt.

Steve was quick to nod at the words. “I should, yes, I’m very sorry. I’ll be sure to pay better attention in the future,” he found himself promising her, lips managing to spread out into a smile, even throughout his worry and guilt. She was already hurt and he’d gone and nearly ran her into the ground. It was completely his bad and he wasn’t going to forget that easily.

Perhaps, he might have minded once, but there was something about a couple of kids with their Avengers shirts on screaming in joy and asking for pictures that made his heart fill with warmth a bit. After another round of pictures with a no older than six-year-old set of twin boys, Steve turned back to his seat and sketch-pad, pausing at the shadow covering his spot. He dropped into his seat and placed the pad in his lap.

“Would you like a drawing?” he asked as he straightened his pencils out, only after that, looking up to see who he was talking to.

     After much arguing, Erik finally got the woman to take the damn vacation days and sent her off. [Well, it was more like she left before listening to another word out of his mouth- but still. He reached his goal.] Now here she was, checking into a hotel room and just waiting to take the weight off her leg. It sort of had a run in with a sharp object, cutting flesh and muscle. Not the worst thing that ever happened to Mystique, but it was enough to force the woman to take a break and actually heal.

     …..It was at least better than worrying Irene by dropping by with a limp.

After the Ultron business, Steve took to keeping himself busy with mission after mission. Rebuilding SHIELD was quite the job, and if taking some of that pressure off them kept him occupied, he wasn’t about to occupy. He knew he should have been back at the base training the recruits, but it was hard these days to keep himself planted.

Simple intel missions were like a small vacation to him. And, while he used to never think he needed a break, he definitely did. He was feeling the pressure, maybe it was all of his emotions bottled inside taking it’s toll, he wasn’t sure, but he decided a good night’s rest was what he needed.

After getting the recordings and pictures he needed, Steve stopped at the nearest hotel. He could easily call for a pick-up now, but he wasn’t going to get that easy night he wanted back home. He turned into a hotel and decided he’d stay there for a night (maybe two). As he walked inside, he was checking his phone for any updates, hardly paying attention until he near ran into a young woman. Stumbling just for a moment, he regained his balance and eyed her with an apologetic look.