Miranda was staring down the small hours of the morning when she finally pushed open the front door of the Avengers compound. The front hall was quiet and perfectly still. She leaned her head back against the door and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to shake off the ominous feeling that had settled in her bones. It was everywhere. It felt like an ever present warning. Something was coming.

A clang sounded at the end of the hall. Miranda opened one eye. Dim light pressed outward from a door far down from her. Sliding her hands in her pockets, Miranda meandered towards it. The sound had come from the kitchen. Someone else was up.

It was Bucky.

It did not really surprise her to see him. He often slipped through the same shadows she did, passing without a word. Letting out a slow breath, Miranda pressed herself against the door frame, chewing absently on her thumb nail.

He looked particularly drawn tonight. The dark circles under his eyes showed just how much he felt of the lingering effects from the few moments of the tactile possession.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Miranda asked wryly.

He looked up at her from where he stood at the island, jar of peanut butter in his hand. The pendants lights that had been hung over the island had been selected for their desirable appearance and not their function. The dim light they cast down on the man was nearly reprehensible and Miranda would have declared them entirely abominable if it were not for how the thick length of his eyelashes cast a perfect shadow over his cheekbones.

"So you have returned from your nightly conquest? Shouldn't you be showing some semblance of shame?"

His tone was knife sharp, but Miranda was quick to dodge its blade. "Are you insinuating that I have been out all night whoring about?"

"I never once uttered the words."

"Ah, but I think you did. Just not out loud." She had no idea what it was about him that always convinced her to never let anything be. She ran a finger over the cool marble countertop. "It doesn't hurt to let loose and have a little fun now and again, darling."

"I've no care to…" His voice trailed off and she swore a blush reddened his collar. "With someone I have never met."

"Sex." Miranda leaned her elbows on the counter, flashing him a coy grin. "It's alright. You can say the word. I'm not a delicate flower."

Bucky slammed his knife down onto the table. Metal fingers glinting as they spread across the countertop."You have never once given any insinuation that you could possibly be any sort of a lady."

"My," Miranda leaned back slowly. "What pleasant company we are tonight."

"I'm…" He stopped short, almost as though he were going to apologize but changed his mind in the end. "I'm a bit on edge."

"It's just the jitters. Give it till morning. It will pass."

"You've no idea what it is," He snarled.

Miranda's smile lessened slightly, weighted by sadness. "What did it show you?"

He looked up at her. Surprise widened his eyes. "What?"

"The demon. When it took hold of your mind? What did you see?"

Blue eyes narrowed on her. "You know what that thing was?"

"It was a Karryer demon. They manifest in the presence of fear. They draw it to the surface and use it against you."

Bucky looked down at his hands, his metal fingers flexing. "I relived it, over and over. All the pain. The cold. The...the operation."

"It always feels real."

"More than real. It was worse."

"You must remember, it was just a memory. You survived it. You are here. You are safe."

"You are safe…" He murmured, easing himself down on the stool beside hers. "How do you know about this...demon?"

"I spent some time in New Mexico at a SHIELD base in Albuquerque. While I was stationed there, some odd things started being reported in town. Impossible things. It turned out to be some kids messing around with black magic. They conjured up one of those wretched things."

Bucky was quiet. His sandwich before him, uneaten.

"Karryer demons are lesser demons, incredibly weak in comparison to most. But that allows them to slip through even the smallest of cracks in the wall that divides our realm from theirs." Miranda pulled at a fray in the edge of the wrapping around her forearm. Stop talking, she told herself.

"I still have nightmares."

Miranda stilled, scarcely breathing, as though even simply the sound of the air in her lungs might frighten the confession from his lips. Her voice was as soft as she could manage when she finally spoke, knowing they were treading on the thinnest of ice. "About what happened to you?"

"About what I've done."

She nodded slowly, understanding. "We have all done things we regret. Things we have to learn to live with."

He looked at her then, surprise lifting his features. He had expected another response. One she imagined he had heard hundreds of times. That wasn't you. It's not your fault. You are what they made you to be. But those sentiments were always so foolish. They were made by people who would never understand what it was like to be a passenger in your own body. Who had never experienced what it felt to be unmade.

"What have you learned to live with?" His voice was heavy with emotion. She fought the shiver that was making its best attempt to crawl up her spine.

A slight smile tilted her lips. As he often did, he could see what so many others overlooked. "Now now, soldier. We all deserve to have our secrets."

He smiled at her then. A small smile, but it lifted the shadows over his features. "How is your arm?"

"I've been told I should live. Though it was touch and go for a while." She beamed back at him, revelling in her sarcasm.

"They fast tracked your uniform. After your injury." He said, finally biting into his sandwich.

"It was hardly an injury." She laughed, placing a hand over the bandage. She didn't dare remove it now. Not with another present.

"Be that as it may," he said. "I have been informed that we should expect its arrival in the next week or so."

"Ah. So then I will officially be a part of your circus."

"You were a part of our circus the second you set foot through that door