Casper and I had settled into our new routine in the tower faster than I'd expected. Moving my things out of the apartment, keeping just one chair from the old furniture.

Mornings started with a coffee, and a shared silence, watching the sun rise over the city. Bruce was the most consistent early riser, joining more sporadically were Steve and Nat. The nightmares hadn't been so bad since I'd moved in. Occasionally I'd be woken by a prickling sense to find a sleep deprived Tony drinking more coffee. On those nights I kept him company until he was ready to face sleep again.

Days were spent driving to the clinic, treating clients. Lunch at the little bakery across the road, occasionally joined by Nat or Steve. Afternoons alternately spent in the clinic, or in the tower. We continued testing my gift, and I was called on to heal various minor injuries that occurred amongst the 'team'. That's how I'd met Colonel Rhodes a few days ago, healing a strained a muscle.

Days I finished early, Steve and I would ride off to explore the city - in time. Museums, food trucks, parks, we made our way through 70's jazz and blues. We'd had a great time skating, or rather I had, apparently Steve could be naturally bad at something after all. Evenings spent reading on my own, taking a dip or letting off steam in a sparring session. Nat had been really helpful, watching our fights, correcting my footwork and form. It was lovely, but it couldn't last, this little peaceful bubble. I felt the tension building between Steve's shoulders, each day that we waited for a hit on Barnes' location. I knew things were about to get really, real. I wondered if I'd be ready when it happened.

A chime on the secure phone I'd been given. He had been spotted, meeting in 10.

Steve, Sam, Nat, and myself settled around the table in the screen room, reading the report displayed on the wall, when Tony sauntered in.

"what'd I miss?"

"I didn't think you were coming, Tony?" Steve asked gravely.

"Well, you went and dragged the golden girl into it. I won't go with you, but you may need some oversight... Let's just say I have a vested interest in her survival."

Discussions began: how to find the elusive assassin in a city of over a million people, without causing a shootout. I let them talk through a few scenarios but I saw the holes, too many chances.

"I'll go in. If any of you get near enough to identify him, he'll split." My words met an explosion of opposition from the guys, Nat however waited, impassive. "You've all fought against him, and not that long ago. And besides you all read -danger- like a neon vest for anyone with the skill to see. And he will be looking."

"And you think he won't be suspicious if you show up? you don't even speak Romanian." Tony's voice rose above the others.

"Oh, he will be. In fact, I'm counting on it. The difference is that he won't think I'm dangerous."

I laid out my idea based on the information I'd read in the file Nat had acquired from Kiev. Tweaks were made, contingency plans laid. I was to be trained in the use of weapon; I reluctantly accepted the stun-gun after absolutely refusing a pistol. Four days to train and make preparations, one to travel, and then? Then we go to work, trying to -safely- bring in one of the world's most dangerous men.

It had been a week in Bucharest. I spent it sitting at an outdoor café near the most recent sighting, wandering markets and asking in clear English for prices on items and street food, eating on park benches, watching. The smells and sounds of the area had become ingrained in my head, the pace of footsteps on walkways, the shifting wind, the general hum of life. Nat was tailing me, but she was subtle, I hadn't spotted her yet.

Three days in, I noticed an anomaly in the pattern: one set of steps that kept time with mine, stopping or darting away when I changed direction, a different scent, a slow breathing just out of step with the buzz around me. The winter soldier, or Sargent Barnes; whoever he was now, had found me. I continued my patterns, eating at the same food stalls, sitting at the same café sipping herbal tea and pushing my nerves into the soles of my feet. Resisting the urge to pat my pocket for the faithful old knife or check my ankle holster for the stun gun. I made a point of tapping out a simple tune on the table, my arm, my thigh, both to keep myself calm and to ensure it wouldn't spook him later on. Every sense screaming !DANGER! feeling the brooding shadow. I waited. Waited for him to decide to approach me, to decide I was no threat.

On the eight day I sensed a change in my pursuer. I walked to the café that had the best tea selection and ordered a cup of their special blend. I sat at a small table, my back to a solid brick wall, took a sip of the spiced tea and waited. My senses tingling with anticipation, today was the day. I could feel his resolve building, and I did my best to keep my face relaxed and distant. I watched a group of workmen just past the corner where I knew my quarry stood. I had stretched my sense, had tuned it to his movements, felt the quiver of his nerves as he finally decided. I tapped a pattern on my watch, a pre-ordained signal that I expected a confrontation, and then 2 taps to indicate the team should keep their distance. I continued tapping a slow beat on the table as I watched his shadow grow and fall over my cup.

"Hello." I spoke in a quiet conversational tone.

"Who sent you?"

"No one sent me. I'm simply enjoying a cup of tea."

"Who are you?"

"Sharice," I gestured for him to take the chair opposite, "You?"

"What?" His face showed he wasn't prepared for that question, so this is Barnes then. He didn't sit, just stood watching me, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching mechanically.

"Do you know who you are?" I softened my voice, made myself small, trying desperately not to seem threatening.

He shook off the question like an annoying fly. "Who are you? why are you here?"

"Can we walk?" I asked, holding back the tremble as I slowly rose to my feet. I waited for his nod, watching him size me up. I moved slowly, walking down the street in the direction of a park we had scoped out earlier, it would be empty this time of day. I hated having my back to him, relying only on my sense to anticipate an attack. Four taps: moving, follow. I kept walking, feeling him following, his eyes scanning, watching for traps, just like the one I was leading him into. "Do you remember Steve?" I felt the flash of pain, the quick intake of air. "He wants to know if you are okay."

No response, he was closing off. We were going to have to do this the hard way. Just keep walking. One tap -pause- one more: close in. We were adjacent to the park, an short alley to our left, I turned into it, stepping backwards.

I saw the moment his eyes reacted, half a blink, before The Falcon, Black Widow and Captain America blocked his exit. A lingering slash of pain filled my skull, swallowing the ache I focused on his movements. He was backing towards me now, had decided the assembled heroes were the greater threat. I felt the raw desperation and the fear rolling off him, I'm not a killer, don't make me do this. I realized his intent the moment before a steely grip wrapped around my throat. I was powerless to prevent it, he was too fast and I was backed against a wall.

The others began closing in but a harsh voice froze them.

"Don't. come any closer." Purple spots blinked in my eyes.

My hands had wrapped around the metal arm desperately trying to *freeze* him, to *stop* the squeezing pressure, to breath again. It had no effect and I panicked, locking eyes with my captor, anguish clouding the blue. I reached for his other shoulder and tapping *freeze* it dropped, nerveless. His eyes filled with fear, dropping me to the ground at his feet. He was backing away, I tagged a leg. He stumbled and fell backwards, Steve leaping forward to pin him down as Nat reached for me, helping me to my feet. Gasping, chest heaving. Grunting and clanging filtered through my mind. One legged and one armed, our prey was still putting up a fight. I just wanted the noise to stop. I stumbled over to the two men trying to hold Barnes down, reached between flailing limbs -ignoring the blows landing on my body- and pressed a finger to his neck. His body flopped instantly and I was stung by the horror in his eyes. Steve slung the limp form over a shoulder and started walking to the jet that materialized at the entrance of the alley.

Entering the jet, Steve laid his friend on a stretcher and Sam strapped him down, "I'm sorry Buck, I wish it didn't have to come to this." Steve's hand grasped Bucky's arm in a plea for forgiveness. "Shay, can you undo this now?"

I stepped forward and with a finger on his leg removed the paralysis, stepping back quickly as the man on the table surged against the bindings.

"Let me go Steve." His voice, rough, pained.

"Is that Bucky, or the winter soldier talking?" I didn't catch the quiet answer, the pain in my skull and a ringing noise blocked out sound for a moment.

"You have to let me help you! I let you up, and you stop fighting me." Steve was earnest, Sam looked less convinced, and Nat was watching me. I watched as Steve unbuckled the straps, the voices fading in and out, Bucky rubbed his wrists. I saw the colour bleeding from the world as Bucky met my eyes. I tried to speak, to voice a warning, but nothing came out. I was falling and then, nothing. Nat reached me just in time to protect my head from collision with the floor.

I came round to the voice of Tony, shouting through the jets speaker system.

"She wasn't supposed to get hurt. You three were supposed to protect-"

"Shut up Stark. You're ruining my beauty sleep." My voice came out grainy and weak.

"Sorry, not sorry! You know your giving me grey hair, young lady?" Tony's usual snark was missing its bite.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, old man." I heard the call end and another voice, Natasha.

"How do you feel?"

I took stock, I was laying on a bench, there was a buzzing in my skull, right knee- twinging, what felt like several bruises on my arms and a sharp stabbing pain in my shoulder. I gasped against the flood of pain, steadied myself and slowly opened my eyes, Nat crouched at eye level. Steve was standing a few feet away, face full of concern, Sam was watching Bucky, a look of disgust on his face. Bucky sat against the opposite wall, head in his hands.

"You sure you didn't hit me with a bus while I was out?" I grinned feebly and tried to raise myself up.

"Woah, easy tiger. I don't want to make a habit out of catching you." Nat smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder. Barnes' head swung up and he watched me, wary.

"I'm fine, or I will be. Just need to gather my bearings." I swung my legs off the bench and braced my arms against the front of my seat.

"Tony's going to want you to go to med bay when we arrive." I brushed away Nat's comment with a shrug.

"I think you should go, get checked out." Steve was serious, and I knew mountains were easier to move than him when his mind was made up. I nodded, assenting.

"If it keeps him off my back, it might even be worthwhile." I tucked my chin into my chest for a moment, mumbling "I hate hospitals." When I looked up again, I realized Steve and Barnes had heard me, compassion on one face, an unreadable expression on the other. "How much longer?"

"Another 2 hours." A voice I didn't recognize came from the pilot's seat- out of sight.

Great. I rolled back onto the bench, cradling my neck and shoulder. "I'm fine guys, really." I reached for my bag, where it had been stashed under the bench, pulled out my personal phone and earbuds. Closing my eye's and letting my mind drift in the swirling sounds of Tchaikovsky. My senses assured me that danger had passed, nevertheless anxiety pooled around the form of James "Bucky" Barnes. I tried to block out the look of abject terror in his eyes as I'd paralyzed him, rubbing my neck unconsciously.

I woke as we touched down on the helipad of Stark tower, the huge door lowering to reveal the worried faces of Tony and Bruce, a med team just behind them. I tried to stand and my legs faltered, Nat grabbed my arm to steady me and I winced at the tug on my shoulder. Steve stepped towards me, worried.

"Hey, what's he doing out of restraints?" Tony, Steve turned to deal with him, blocking Bucky from his view.

A movement behind me and suddenly I was being carried by Sam to the waiting stretcher, one arm wrapped around his neck. I laughed against the pain in my limbs. "I guess that's one way to get that hug." A chuckle rumbled from his chest as Sam deposited me on the bed.

"Don't make it a habit" his voice was lost as I was wheeled away and voices erupted over me.

I refused the I.V. insisting I could take meds and fluids orally, Bruce finally convinced them to back off the issue. A few scans later and it was determined that there were muscles torn in the top of my shoulder where the hand had grabbed me hours before, there was swelling and what would no doubt be a massive bruise later. Everything else was fairly superficial, so after having nanobots put my shoulder back together weird, I was finally allowed to sleep. I was escorted up to my room by a hovering Happy.

"If you need anything, anything at all, you call me, or you ask Jarvis." I rolled my eyes and he caught it. "Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah. Really, Happy, I'm fine. A little rest and I'll be all set." I opened my door and stepped inside. Casper mewed from my old recliner; it took a second for me to realize he was not alone.

Nat watched me impassively, waiting for my objection. I just shrugged and slumped onto the bed, exhausted.

"The boys were going to make you stay in med bay under supervision, I thought you would prefer this."

"Quite right… Thanks." I kicked my shoes off, striped down to underthings and slipped under the covers. "There's extra blankets in the cupboard, and you can nag this pillow if you want. Make yourself at home." I settled on my good side and tried to sleep, not used to the sounds of another person moving around in my space. Casper curled against my back and I eventually drifted off to the gentle vibrations of his purring.

Daylight.

Warm tea,

walking in the park.

I was falling.

Sinking.

Breathing water.

The light faded.

I woke from the dream with a heaving gasp. Nat was half out of the chair, knife ready, looking for the source of danger. She quickly tucked it away.

"Nightmare?" I nodded in answer to her question. She crossed the room and settled on the other side of the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Should you?"

"Probably." I waited a beat, still catching my breath. "I was drowning, couldn't breathe." I leant against the headboard, listening to the pounding of my heart, waiting for it to find a normal rhythm. The drowning dreams were always the worst, so slow and inevitable.

Silence fell and neither of us wanted to break it. Eventually we fell asleep, Casper stretched out between us.