The girl was angry at him. And, he knew, she should be allowed her anger. He had tricked her, had scared her, and seeing the dark bruise that painted itself around her forearm where he had grabbed her, had hurt her.

These things never bothered him before. He didn't have the luxury to be bothered by these things before. He'd be wiped before they could. But there was nothing in the dirty little warehouse to wipe him, and he felt things now that he didn't realize he could. Guilt, for starters.

She did not speak to him since calling him a jerk. She ignored him, treating him like the ghost she claimed he was when she was there, but she hardly ever was. She took to leaving during the day. He wondered where she went, but dared not ask. It was none of his business.

He did not care. He was just… curious, now that he could be.

When she'd return, she'd have her back to him, always, and The Not Quite Soldier thought it unwise for her to leave herself open to an attack like that. Not that he would - he wouldn't hurt a child purposely, had never been ordered to, and wondered if he could if he had been. Sometimes she would scratch away in the notebook she had torn a paper out of to throw at him, and at night she would curl up in her nest of blankets to sleep.

She had nightmares, the girl did, throughout the night. The Not Quite Soldier would hear her murmuring softly, tossing and turning and tangling herself in her blankets. In the darkness, he saw how she clutched at the small stuffed bear she had. Oso-osito, she had called it when greeting it the first day. She'd suffer the nightmares, and in the morning she'd return to ignoring him. Strangely, he would swear that he could all but feel her irritation in the mornings.

It was the third day since his arrival that she broke her silence.


"Do you just… sit there all day?" Ximena asked three days after the man had first appeared and two since he had scared her. She had spent the rest of that day skulking around nearby, waiting until the local schools got out before venturing into the city. When she came back, he still sat under the stairs, and he hardly seemed to have moved since he first sat. It was as though he had taken root.

Like a stubborn weed.

She sat cross-legged in front of him, far enough to be comfortable, but close enough to actually see him and maybe hold a conversation. He hadn't spoken since his apology, and Ximena was tired of the tense silence that had followed.

She decided to try being nice.

He watched her, and there was something calculating in his gaze. Not cold, but not necessarily warm either. Scrutinizing.

"Nowhere to go," he said finally. He spoke in a flat tone, but not quite as though he was bored. More… Matter of fact. Emotionless. Ximena was still getting used to that about him.

The girl looked down at the granola bar she ate on. She had another in her pocket, and she had lifted both from the corner store not too far away. "That's boring. Not even when I leave?" He gave a minute shake of his head, and Ximena picked up just the tiniest flare of curiosity. He didn't act on it, and so she saw no reason to indulge him. "But where do you get your food?"

Her own stash of food had been untouched by him, and she had never seen him munch on anything of his own. And if he never went out… Ximena felt a spike of horror - her own, not the man's - and she looked at him with wide eyes.

"Do you not eat?" Three days the man had been there, and not once had Ximena seen him eat. How long before that had he gone without food? She leaned forward now, and was able to see that his face was rather gaunt - not as bad as she would have thought, but bad enough.

"Here," she said, shoving out her hand with her already opened bar at him before he could say anything. He tensed at the action, and Ximena could all but hear the warning bells going off on his head when she wiggled it at him. "It's kinda crumbly, and it has nuts–" she jerked it away. "Are you allergic to nuts?"

He shook his head and she held it back out. He made no move to take it, instead watching it as though it would explode at any moment. She rolled her head back.

"It's not poison or nothing," she said, leaning forward a bit and giving it another shake. "Look, I already ate off of it, so you know it's not." Still, he did not take it, and she leaned even further. He went rigid, and Ximena had a feeling it was to stop him from moving back. "I'm gonna bug you until you take it."

He hesitated for a second longer before reaching out a hand - the metal one - before he paused. His brow furrowed, and Ximena followed his gaze to the bruise that encircled her forearm. She hadn't noticed it until the day before, and it hadn't been hard to guess where it had come from. The man had grabbed her with his metal hand to keep her from pushing him. It didn't hurt, not really. Only if she pushed on it.

The man pulled back and then reached with his other hand, his real one. Ximena stopped wiggling the package as he neared it without realizing it, and right before he could take it, he looked at her, searching. She didn't know what he was looking for, but she gave a small smile anyway. She wanted to be reassuring. She didn't need the crazy guy that refused to leave thinking she was out to get him.

She must have succeeded, because he took the package, careful not to touch her hand. They both sat back, and he watched her as she watched him carefully pull out one of the two bars that came in the package. He inspected it, as though he had never seen one up close before, and before he took a bite from it, he held the package back out to Ximena, one bar left inside.

She blinked in surprise. "You can keep-" He shook the package at her, just as she had done to him, and she huffed, but took it from him. "Thanks, I guess," she said, and pulled the granola bar out. It wasn't until she took a bite that he took one as well, though his was much smaller than her own. He chewed carefully, and his next bite was only just a bit bigger.

"So uh…" she gestured with her food to his metal arm. "That thing ever rust?" She gasped when a thought occurred to her, and he looked up in alarm. "Are you like… a super secret robot? Terminator kinda thing? Is that why you never eat? 'Cause I've never seen a prosthetic like that before."

He said nothing for a moment. Then: "Thought I was a ghost."

She rolled her head back. "Well now you're the Terminator." His brow quirked at that, a phantom movement Ximena only just caught, but all she felt from him was that faint barely there confusion. She furrowed her brow at him. "Do you… you know what I mean when I say that, right?" He hesitated. Shook his head.

"Geez, Mr. Ghost, how can you not know what the Terminator is?! Arnie?" He looked away, his face carefully blank, and Ximena remembered that she was supposed to be nice. "It's… okay, I guess. It's from a movie. I haven't seen them either, really." She shook her head and went back to her original question. "Okay, but, what about your arm? Does it rust? Do you get all stuck and frozen like Tin Man and need someone to feed you oil to free you?" She paused to breathe. "You know what the Tin Man is, right? From-"

"Wizard of Oz," he said, and his eyes went wide, and Ximena grinned at the surprise that broke free from him. As though he hadn't expected to answer that.

"Oh, so you know that one?" she asked, and he looked to be deep in thought. "Do… do you not know that either?"

"I know."

Ximena perched an elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her hand. "Do you know who you are?" she asked, because she had not gotten an answer the first day he had showed up. He looked at her with those very blue eyes, and she looked right back at him with her own very dark brown.

He shook his head.

Hm. That might be a problem.

"So you're the Scarecrow too, huh? No brain or heart…" she sighed, her head falling to side on her hand. He didn't scowl, but his face kinda quirked in a way that made her think he only just held it in. "Tough luck, Tin Man Scarecrow." It was much too long. "Scare Tin," she tried. "Tin Crow–ew, no that sounds like a reject Avenger." She looked at him hard, squinting her eyes at him. "Crow Man." It was just ridiculous enough to work.

"Crow Man," he repeated, and gave no indication if he liked it or not. Well, it didn't matter if he liked it or not. It was staying.

Ximena gave a satisfied nod and shoved what she had left of her granola bar in her mouth before pushing herself up to stand. He watched curiously as she brushed the dust and dirt from the floor off of her pants before she went back to her blankets to grab what she needed from her bag.

She turned back to look at him. He'd need a change of clothes - something to cover up that arm, because lord knows it'll catch all sorts of attention, and Crow Man didn't seem the type to like that. A bag of his own, since it didn't seem as though he had one. He didn't have much of anything. And the idiot didn't eat, so she'd have to deal with that too.

Mind made up, Ximena gave a nod. "I'll be back," she announced, darting toward the door, past one of the shelves she had been forced to leave in the middle of the room. "Bye, Crow Man!"


Ximena never liked shopping when she was little. When her mom would drag her out to the mall back home, there would always be at least one tantrum. There were always too many people around, and while she couldn't feel them the way she did now, she was still… sensitive to their presence.

They made her anxious. It didn't help that her mom would keep piling clothes into their cart for her to try on.

The thrift store she was in now, though, was quiet. It wasn't a particularly big store, and Ximena was one of only 5 people browsing the racks of clothes, and she was the youngest by far. The store wasn't too far from her warehouse, only about a 10 minute walk, and it was the only one she ever went to; these workers were the only ones that didn't say anything about a scruffy little girl walking in on her own to buy stuff.

Ximena held out a pair of jeans and cocked her head to the side as she contemplated them. She had no clue about Crow Man's sizing, and she never really understood how men's jeans were sized anyway. Why did they need two numbers? It didn't help that she had only caught a glimpse of Crow Man standing; he had been sitting the rest of the time he had been around.

She brought the jeans to her hips, like she remembered her mom doing when she would buy her dad jeans. It made her feel kinda stupid; her mom knew how big her dad was compared to her, and Ximena didn't really have that for her new roommate. The pants were much too large for her, not to mention far too long, and she figured that if they were too big for Crow Man, well, he'd just have to find himself a belt or something. If they were too small…. Ximena shrugged and threw the pair over her shoulder along with the long sleeve shirt and jacket she had snagged already. On her other shoulder hung a worn - but still good - backpack.

This would do, she decided. She hadn't paid much attention, but she was sure Crow Man had shoes, and she was already spending more than she wanted, even if everything was much cheaper. Ya gastamos mas de lo que queria, her mom used to say. Ximena never got it when she was little, but she understood now.

She walked to the counter with the bored looking employee, and on top of one of the racks, a hat caught her eye. It was a plain thing, and she wasn't quite sure why she needed it, but she did. She snatched it and went on to drop everything on the counter.

The employee didn't give her so much as a glance as he punched in the prices into the old register, and Ximena tried not to react at the total. She pulled out a wad of ones and tens and various coins from her pocket and dumped them on the counter to count out. When she had paid, she shoved the change back into her pocket and the clothes into the bag. The hat she wore, and as well as the now bulkier bag.

Before returning to the warehouse, Ximena stopped at the corner store she always does. She bought a box of granola bars and a large bottle of water, and stole a couple cans of ravioli.

She passed Marty and Helen as she returned, and Helen called out again.

"No bad man, nena?" she asked, and Ximena paused, looking to the side as though deep in thought.

"Saw a guy kick a dog earlier," she offered, and Helen scowled.

"That's not what I meant."

"But that was still a bad man," she said. "I'm more mad at him than the guy that beat up Captain America." Helen shook her head, but Marty looked a little more amused. Ximena grinned impishly and went on her way, lifting a hand in farewell.

The puddles from the rain before had since dried, but she still hopped around where she thought they had been, humming under her breath a song she had forgotten the lyrics to. She didn't pass anyone else in the alleys as she made her way to the warehouse, but she did hear several voices laughing too loud and too mean too close to her area.

She hurried the rest of the way.

"Hello, stupid dust!" Ximena greeted as always did as she shoved open the door to the warehouse. It gave a groan, but slid aside for her. "Hello, stupid ghost!" She ran through the building, the new bag bouncing on her back, and as she neared, she saw Crow Man looking up at her with a flat sort of expression. "Hey, Crow Man," she greeted, stopping in front of him and plopping on to the floor with crossed legs.

He didn't respond, and she took the silence for greeting that it was. She pulled the bag off her back and held it in her lap, suddenly feeling rather shy. She wasn't used to giving gifts - her mom usually picked things out when she was around, and during her time in foster care, Ximena never really had friends — well, there was the one, but she wasn't quite sure if he considered her a friend back — or family to give anything to, not to mention no means to get things.

It was a new thing to her, and she didn't want to mess it up the first time she really tried.

"Okay, so," she started, and took a breath. "You've been sitting here since you got here and you never eat and you got like no other clothes or bag or nothing so I uh—" she shoved the bag forward, and he didn't flinch, but went rigid, and she pulled it back. He didn't like having things thrown at him, Ximena realized. "Sorry," she added. "But look at what I got you!"

She pulled at the zipper, opening the bag, and stuck her hand in, grabbing the first article of clothing she felt. Upon pulling it out, she found that it was the jacket. "It's a jacket!" she exclaimed happily, holding it up to show off, and it completely hid him from her view. "I didn't know your size, so I just got a large." She balled it up and held it out to him, slower this time. "Will your arm fit in it?" she asked. "I hope it does, or else the stuff I got isn't gonna be any good."

He stared at the clothing in her hand, then up at her. She could feel the confusion rolling off of him in waves.

"You gotta take it," she told him, shaking it at him. "I already spent money on it and the thrift store doesn't do refunds."

He stared at it hard before taking it, slowly, and set it in his lap. She grinned and reached back into the bag.

"Ah, okay, so I don't know how pant sizes work, but this looked big on me, so maybe it'll fit?" She unrolled the jeans she had bought, and the ends of the legs almost landed in Crow Man's lap. "If they don't fit, we'll figure something out." Unthinkingly, she tossed it to him, and he caught it easily. "And look, I got you a shirt! Like, a full shirt!" She brought it out and waved the sleeves at him. His stoney expression faltered, only for a split second, and Ximena could swear she saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Now you won't have people being jerks and staring at your arm if you wanna go to, like, a soup kitchen or whatever."

He took it when she held it out for him, and she watched expectantly as he carefully folded it up and set it with the jacket and jeans in his lap. Nothing in his expression changed, and Ximena felt a twinge of disappointment. It's not as though she had expected him to shout praises and immediately start changing into the new clothes, but a thank you would have been nice. She shoved the feeling down and went on. Maybe the food would have the desired effect.

"Lookit what else I got you, because we do not condone anorexia in this home, Crow Man," she said sternly, and gave him a hard look. He blinked at her words, taken aback, and she turned the bag upside down. The box of granolas, the two cans of ravioli, and the water bottle clattered to the floor. "When I was in school still, there was this girl that never ate, and she was so skinny. And you know what happened to her?" Ximena demanded, and Crow Man gave a tentative shake of his head. "She had to go to the doctor and they kept her at the hospital for like, a week! We can't afford no doctor or hospital stay, so you gotta eat!"

She punctuated the last word of her rant by sliding over the box and water to him. When they reached him, she slid one of the cans of ravioli to him as well, and picked up the one remaining.

"This one is mine. OH! And this is for you too," she said, tugging the hat off her head and holding it out of him along with the bag. "So you can keep your stuff and cover your hair when you don't want people to say nothing about not washing it."

Crow Man had gone increasingly still since she dumped the food out for him, and she started to wonder if maybe she had done something wrong. She reached, and found him painfully blank of any emotions sans confusion.

Unsure of what to do and feeling a bit awkward, Ximena jumped up to stand. "Well, you're welcome," she said, deciding it was still early enough in the day for her to go back out, if only to avoid the weird atmosphere that had settled in the building. Maybe she could snatch a book from somewhere and find somewhere to hide out and read. Hopefully she wouldn't run into whoever it was she had heard laughing.

As she walked back to her side of the building for her bag, a quiet, hesitant, "thank you" followed her.


The girl was a… curious little thing. Her anger had dissipated as quickly as it had manifested, and she acted as though it had never existed to begin with. She spoke to him now, from her side of the building. Or rather, she spoke at him, never waiting for him to respond, perhaps knowing that he would not.

There was no guessing where her conversations would lead, and more often than not he had no idea as to what she referenced. Rather than inquire, he found it easier to just let her talk.

"Do you think Jurassic Park could ever happen? I think it'd be pretty cool to see a stegosaurus. I bet Tony Stark would pull it off, if he wasn't so busy being Iron Man."

"One time I saw a rat eating a whole pizza slice, just like a person, when I was in New York. I think it was the Ratatouille rat, or his brother. I think the brother was the one that are everything. Maybe it was Master Splinter!"

"What do you think would ever happen if zombies were a thing? We'd prob'ly have to get out of the city, huh? That's what people in movies always do. Do you know how to drive?"

He didn't have time to process much of what she said, and had a running list in his already overwhelmed mind of things he would need to research. Sometimes the girl would talk across the building at him, half shouting to ensure he would hear. Other times she'd sit herself down in front of him. She always kept a careful distance between them. The girl was always conscious of the space between them, even when at times she forgot to not throw things at him, like the clothes she had gifted him.

He wasn't sure what to make of the things she brought him. He was less sure of what to make of the name she had bestowed upon him.

Crow Man.

It was better, he decided, than Asset or Soldier or Not Quite Soldier. He had a name, a real name, if the man on the airship was to be believed. He had called him "Bucky." Had called him James Buchanan Barnes.

The names meant nothing to him. They belonged to a ghost - someone before HYDRA, but he only knew HYDRA. There was no before for him. Not a before he knew, but maybe… one he could relearn. One he could remember.

For now, however, he was content to be the Crow Man the girl thought him to be.