𝗗𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘

Rabbit Heart

Isabell hasn't spent a lot of time in actual, real-life houses. Therefore, Sarah's is fascinating to her.

She stands in the middle of the living room, staring wide-eyed at the shelves, the pretty paintings and the soft, well-worn furniture. James feels a flush rise up his cheeks. He's in half a mind to shake her, to remind her to act like a normal human being instead of a lab creation.

Unfortunately, she can only be what she is.

They're lucky Sarah finds her sweet rather than strange.

She smiles a little as she watches Isabell wander around, up on tip-toe to inspect the tallest bookshelves. "She's a funny kid."

"Yeah, sorry about that." James slots his hands into his pockets. Sarah shakes her head.

"No, no, she's absolutely adorable. Let her explore while I fetch the first aid kit."

James nods. He watches her leave down the corridor, the way her braids swing down her back. She's pretty, he knows, the sort of pretty that turns heads. He tries to understand that sort of feeling, to summon up some kind of desire in his gut.

It doesn't work. Only one name flashes across his mind.

He closes his eyes.

Broken. He is broken and wrong and sick, and he cannot do one damn thing right in this life.

James glances at Isabell.

She is standing on the rug, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering as she marvels at the rows and rows of books, the pretty little ornaments that adorn the place. She has seen very little beauty in this life, and yet she still manages to make the whole room glow.

How does someone become that perfect, that effortlessly pure?

God has favourites. That is the answer, and James is most certainly not one of them.

Swallowing back something raw and aching in his throat, he steps up to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Isabell turns to him. A nerve tremors in her jaw. She is afraid. He feels her shoulder blades tremble, sharp below her skin like wings.

"You OK?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think we should be here, Jamie," She whispers, "What if somebody finds us?"

"No one's gonna get us here. We'll be fine for a few minutes." He replies, but if anything, Isabell looks even less comforted.

"Steve Rogers wants you." She says. As if it is nothing at all. As if she is discussing the weather. When James' whole body goes stiff, she simply blinks and looks away.

He is frozen. He wants to sit down in the middle of the floor and let the information send him into some dizzying, dark spiral, and he wants to grab Isabell by the shoulders and throttle her until she tells him what she means.

What is she talking about? What does she know? Why the hell is she saying 'Steve Rogers' like she understands who he is?

Before James can ask her anything, however, Sarah comes back in. She has a first-aid kit in her hand, a fresh smile on her face, and she whisks Isabell right out of his grasp.

"Alright, honey, let's see that cut,"

Isabell's charm switches on like a lightbulb. She extends her grazed leg, suddenly chatting about everything and nothing, and she doesn't even make a fuss when the disinfectant comes out.

Three minutes later, she is good as new. Sarah brushes a strand of hair from her face, glancing at the clock, then at James.

"Hey, d'you want to stay for lunch or something? Time's getting on and I could do with company while my husband's at work."