Rogue | Ava Starr AU [DISCONTINUED]

VII | Cut Throat Conversations

ROLLING HIS EYES, Bucky gestured toward Ava with his razor and repeated his question. "So what's wrong with her? She keeps moving and yet she's not moving." It was strange, seeing someone's body in three different places at once, but only one tangible version.

"There's nothing wrong with Ava," Steve answered.

But Ava was already shaking her head. If that's what he really thought, there was no point her staying there. He would just turn out to be like everyone else who had tried to help her. They'd all made promises and they'd all failed. "There is something wrong with me, thank you. I'm a quantum miracle. In all realities, I shouldn't exist. But somehow, in this one, I do."

"That doesn't answer my question," Bucky quipped, annoyed at her long and unsatisfactory answer.

Narrowing her eyes, she wondered if answering him was even worth it. But decided to anyway, considering everyone else might as well know what was wrong. "I absorbed too much quantum energy at once and now my cells are constantly being ripped apart and sewn back together every second. These quantum shadows only represent a small part of what's going on."

She swallowed. They couldn't understand the immense pain that attacked everywhere at every point in time. Eternal torture wasn't something that could be understood without experiencing it.

Finally receiving an answer, Bucky left the room and continued shaving the rest of his facial hair. He hadn't been without a beard in so long, probably about seventy years. It was so surprising that it sent both him and Steve straight back to the 1940's and the war.

From the kitchen, Sam Wilson raised the teaspoon that was in his hand and said, "that's intense. Do you drink coffee?"

"Black, thanks," Ava answered, but then soon realized she only drank it that way to stay awake. She hadn't actually had a coffee for the sake of drinking coffee. "Scratch that. How do most people drink their coffee?"

"I drink lattes. No sugar, extra hot," Natasha volunteered. It sounded rather unappealing to Ava, but she was grateful for the information.

Steve piped up also, "and I drink either an americano or straight espresso. Two sugars. And Bucky drinks either a regular latte or a piccolo late. One sugar, and lots of milk."

Ava's grey eyes widened. She didn't recognize half those words.

"And I only drink mochas. One sugar."

She began shaking her head, unsure of what to choose. She didn't even know what was available to choose from.

Sam smiled softly. He worked firsthand with people suffering, and knew how to treat others when treading on rather thin ice. "How about we start you off with a simple white coffee and see if you like it."

"Five bucks she'll hate it and end up drinking black tea." Bucky appeared from the bathroom once more, clean shaven and smelling of shaving cream. He was grinning, and playing with the stubble he couldn't quite reach with the cut throat razor. It was a bit blunt, and rather old. No one had the desire to sharpen it either.

Natasha rolled her eyes and turned to Steve. "I hope you planned on where she's going to sleep." Her voice held an almost undetectable catch to it, but Ava had been trained well enough to pick up on it.

They had not been planning to 'keep' her until the moment she showed weakness. Perhaps she had melted their hard hearts, or maybe there was something else going on beneath the surface. Either way, it made her uncomfortable to ponder that they had considered turning her back to what was left of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Quickly nodding, Steve instructed Ava to follow him. It was a small apartment, of only three bedrooms. That mean someone was going to have to bunk in with the another, and it was clear who wasn't going with who. "You can take Bucky's room. He'll move in with me for the time being."