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The growl of a cat cleared the fog in Marlow's mind and she blinked, looking through the bars of the balcony to search for the source of the sound. Of course, it was too dark for her to see anything, even with the lights lining the street, so she settled her gaze back on the buildings in the distance.

How long it was after that that Bucky knocked gently on the door she didn't know, but when he stepped out and crouched beside her, she sent him a weak smile.

"You been out here long?"

"A while," she mumbled.

"Nightmare?"

"Mhmm."

"You want to talk about it?"

The bloody images flashed behind her eyes, of pleading and pain before she crushed someone's skull.

"No."

"I was gonna head over to the café, want to come?"

The café was the one spot she'd been able to walk, but only in the early hours of the morning when there was no one, or almost no one else around.

"Yah," she nodded, "that would be good. Just let me grab my shoes and jacket?"

"Hmm, you want a jacket? Figured you'd just go like that," he quipped, shooting a look to her sweater clad arms.

She did have a blanket beneath her that she'd wrapped around her legs to stop the frozen cement of the balcony from biting into her ass, but considering the temperature outside, she probably should be wearing more.

"I would, but I'd probably get weird looks. I need to at least try to keep up appearances."

He chuckled and stood, holding out a hand to help her up. As she took hold of it, the warmth of his grasp sent waves of comfort through her that she almost wanted to pursue somehow. Possibly by wrapping herself in his arms.

What a foolish thought, she grumbled internally before dropping his hand and the train of thought.

In the... how long had she been at the apartment with him?

It must have been somewhere around a month now...

At any rate, by that time, she'd learned the layout of the house to the point that she didn't need any light to find her way back to her room, or to pull her jacket from her closet. She nudged her boots from beneath her bed with her foot, shoving her feet inside before lacing them up. When she straightened, she just barely made out her reflection on the dark mirror of her closet door, and her eyes focused on the jacket over her shoulders.

This and her tablet were the only two things that she had from her life before the Snap. They'd been on the jet after everything that happened, and according to Steve, Nat never let him get rid of them—not that he was trying to, but she'd wanted something of Marlow's and those seemed to be it.

They'd kept them at the Compound, along with the few things they collected of everyone else who'd been snapped. Died.

It must have been horrible... having to watch so many people just turn to dust. Watch helplessly as Thanos murdered half of their friends...

A lot worse for them than it was for the snapped.

"Marlow, you ready to go?"

She stalked away from the mirror, "Yah."

As they made their way out the door and through the hall, she was aware but not anxious. She didn't think she'd be able to make it through being in a crowd for long, but passing people was much less daunting than it had been before. What was once like a thunderclap that shook her nerves was now more like an echo. There, but dull.

A Birdie Lost in Time | Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now