There was a light knock at my door and I sat up, rubbing my foggy eyes. "Come in," I invited. The door opened and Bucky stepped soundlessly into the room, shutting the door behind himself. I sighed, propping the pillow up behind my back and patting the bed next to me. Bucky accepted my offer, moving quickly across the room and climbing onto the bed beside me, looking down at me with that conflicted expression on his face. "When you're ready, Buck," I told him, taking his metal hand in mine with a smile and leaning my head sideways against the bedhead. Bucky's fingers curled around mine and he stared down at our interlocked hands blankly for a few moments. Finally, he drew a deep breath and spoke in his usual whisper-voice.
"How did you adapt? How did you go from person, to weapon, and back again?"
"I never lost myself," I told him plainly, drawing his gaze to mine. "They never took that from me. You were… You were unmade, Bucky. You couldn't even recognise the people you loved. I always knew where my heart was; the question was whether I should follow my heart or my orders."

Bucky nodded slowly, looking away as he mulled that over. "How is Steve?" he asked. "Is he still worried about me?"
"Of course," I responded. "But he's fine, Bucky. He trusts you, you know."
"I'm not certain that that is wise," Bucky almost growled, scowling down at our hands, twisting his wrist so the moonlight reflected off the metal ridges.
"At the moment, are you fighting any impulses to kill me?" I challenged and Bucky blinked up at me in surprise, shaking his head.
"No."
"Would you have killed me before?" Bucky swallowed and nodded. "Would you have hesitated?"
"No," he confessed, bowing his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Would you kill me now?" I pushed. Bucky shook his head quickly without lifting it.
"No; I… I couldn't."
"Then I think you're adapting just fine," I assured the soldier, lifting my free hand to pat his back. "You can't expect it to be smooth sailing, considering what you've been through."
"You don't know what I've been through," Bucky rumbled bitterly, looking up at me darkly.
"Would you like to tell me?" I asked. Bucky swallowed again, frowning indecisively. "You don't have to, if you would prefer I didn't know," I reminded him gently, smiling warmly.
"They wiped my mind," Bucky blurted hurriedly, as if afraid that he'd lose his courage and be unable to confide in me. "They electrocuted me until everything went blank… I didn't even know my own name… And I didn't care."

"And not caring is the worst part," I murmured understandingly. Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, nodding, eyes narrowed in distress. "Hydra is a cruel beast, Bucky," I soothed, tucking his hair behind his ear and squeezing his hand. "I have never been unmade, but I know what it is like to question everything. We've all had our identity crises; some worse than others. Loki, for example. Finding out that he was adopted from another race; a race generally viewed as monsters. My crisis came when I realised that I would never have the things I wanted; I'd never have magic, I'd never be important, I couldn't even save myself, let alone anyone else…"
"But that's not true," Bucky protested, frowning at me worriedly. "You are important. You're important to Steve. You have saved lives. Maybe you don't have magic, but you do have worth." I smiled.
"Exactly. If everything can change for me, don't you think things could be different for you, if you let them?"

Bucky fell silent for a few moments before shrugging, shaking his head. "I don't know how," he whispered faintly. I smiled at him, taking my hand from his and putting my arms around his shoulders, resting my forehead in the curve of his neck.
"Just follow your heart. Your brain can be confused; believe me, I know that. But your heart remembers, Bucky. You remember Steve, and how much you cared for each other. So just focus on him. He'll keep you straight, Buck."
"But I don't want him to worry more than he does already," Bucky sighed, tilting his head back against the wall.
"You don't have to tell him about this, Bucky," I pointed out gently, sitting back again. "Just follow him." Bucky's lips twitched and his eyes lightened as soft crinkles appeared in the corners.
"That skinny kid from Brooklyn. I'll follow him." I grinned, shrugging.
"Well, he's always led me right."

Bucky's mouth curved into a small, but genuine smile and he nodded to me respectfully. "Thank you, Ellie. This was helpful."
"Well, I hope so," I yawned, scrubbing at my eyes again. "I'm amazed that anything I just said actually made sense, to be honest." Bucky huffed a faint laugh and stood, walking around the bed again.
"Goodnight, Ellie," he bid me softly.
"Goodnight, Bucky. Sweet dreams," I wished him in return. Bucky hesitated a moment before bending to press a soft kiss to my forehead and leaving quickly. "Well, that was unexpected," I muttered to myself as I once again snuggled down under my blankets, shutting my eyes with a weary sigh and letting myself relax.

I was awoken during the night by the sound of a table being bumped, followed by a muffled grunt. Footsteps padded away outside my door and I closed my eyes again only to reopen them when the footsteps came back. I listened to the pacing down the corridor for a few moments before deciding to get up and investigate. I opened my bedroom door and stood in the frame, waiting. The hallway was dark and a figure was making its way towards me through the shadows. When it was close enough, I recognised the person and sighed. "Bruce." The scientist jumped, blinking up at me. "Why are you not abed?"
"I'm just… a little nervous," Bruce admitted, shrugging. I clicked my tongue, pushing my door open wider, and jerked my head.
"Get in the bed," I commanded. "You're going to sleep whether you want to or not."
"No, Ellie. I couldn't disturb you…"

"I'm already disturbed, now get in the bed or I'm going with you to yours. I don't trust you to go back and get some sleep without supervision; you and Tony both have self-destructive tendencies, which I'm assuming are a side-effect of genius… I'm cold now, Bruce. Get in the bed." After a slight hesitation, Bruce obeyed my demand, walking into my room and slipping under the doona, leaving the sheets underneath to me. I climbed into my bed again and curling my arm with Bruce's to keep him in place.
"Are you sure about this, Ellie?" he wondered.
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" I muttered in response.
"No, no. You're fine."
"Then I'm sure; now go to sleep!" I huffed, burying further into my blankets.
"Goodnight, Pet," Bruce mumbled, scratching my scalp.

"Oh, so I'm 'Pet' now, am I?" I asked, smiling in amusement.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think…"
"No, I like it. I'll add it to the list."
"List?" Bruce echoed curiously. I nodded against my pillow.
"My list of names. I'm Steve and Tasha's 'El', Thor's 'Little Warrior', Clint and Tony's 'Kid', Loki's 'Little Mouse', and now your 'Pet'."
"I didn't realise that we all had such different ways of calling you," Bruce murmured, chuckling softly. I hummed lightly. "Goodnight, Pet," he repeated quietly.

When I woke up the next morning, Bruce was sprawled out on his back next to me with his mouth slightly open and his arm over his eyes. I smiled, releasing his arm and getting out of my bed, grabbing a dress from my drawers and leaving to go to the bathroom, running a bath for myself and rejoicing over the fact that Norse Gods do have indoor plumbing. I cleaned myself up, washing my hair, and dried off quickly, dressing in my deep blue-green Asgardian gown. When I went back into the bedchamber, Bruce was still fast asleep and I smiled, leaving to find some breakfast. I found the Avengers in a little dining room near our bedchambers and joined them, sitting in between Steve and Sam. Moments later, a plate of ham, eggs and toast was set before me by a completely silent Bucky. I smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks, Bucky. You're a sweetie." Bucky nodded to me and went to fetch his own food from the set-up at the end of the room.
"So, any news on when we can expect our enemies to arrive here?" Sam asked, munching through his own breakfast.

"Shouldn't we wait for Bruce and maybe the Warriors and Sif to get here before we start discussing this?" Tony suggested.
"And Loki, since he's probably the most informed of us here," I added, staring at Tony pointedly. Tony snorted, rolling his eyes and sipping his drink. "But you'll probably be waiting a while for Bruce to make an appearance."
"Why? Where is he?" Natasha inquired, nibbling on a piece of toast.
"My room." There was a loud cough and we all turned to look at Thor as he patted himself on the chest, putting down his dripping cup.
"Sorry," he rasped, shaking his head. "I was shocked. I had thought that *cough* you and Loki were *cough* developing a more intimate relationship. I had not realised *cough* that Banner had already claimed your affections *cough cough*."

I quirked a brow at that, propping my cheek on my fist and narrowing my eyes wearily. "I'm not intimate with Bruce. Aside from the fact that I don't want the Hulk to make an appearance in my bedroom, I'm not intimate with anyone. But he was nervously pacing in the hallway outside our rooms last night, so I forced him into bed to make him get some bloody sleep! And he's still there, because I was right and he needed it. And I'm grumpy today because I was woken up by people twice last night and I'm tired; so unless you really need to know something, don't ask me any questions today. I will hurt you."
"Fair enough," Sam said, sliding his teacup towards me. "You clearly need this more than me."
"I do; thank you," I agreed, taking the offered drink and taking a gulp of the refreshing brew. It was then that Loki appeared in the doorway, his face grim, and stood there until we were all looking at him. I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "How long have we got?" I groaned.

"A day; they'll be here by nightfall. We must commence the evacuation of the civilians," Loki announced quietly… As the sun set, I was standing on a balcony, looking out over the realm as dark ships started flowing in from the sky. Loki entered my peripheral vision and we both stood silently, watching the enemy figures begin to swarm through the deserted streets of the city, searching. Suddenly, the small bands of soldiers we had positioned throughout the land started to engage, encouraging the enemies to move towards the palace grounds; where we wanted them.
"When do we start?" I asked lowly, not turning my gaze away from the approaching armies. Loki sighed, running his hand over his head.
"We wait until your Captain makes his charge. Then we move out while the enemy is preoccupied." I nodded my understanding and caught Loki examining me from the corner of my eye. "You don't have to do this, Mouse," he murmured gently. I smirked faintly, shaking my head.

"Yes I do," I replied softly. Loki sighed again, leaning forward against the balcony railing and I looked at him, lifting my brows in slight surprise. Loki's long, dark hair was pulled back severely in a thick ponytail at the centre of his scalp. I grinned and Loki glanced at me, frowning in confusion.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You look great with your hair pulled back like that. Are you sure you won't let me braid it?" Loki's lips twitched and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers.
"Perhaps I will someday."
"Someday," I echoed wistfully, looking out at the darkness before us as the archers around us started firing. "I hope so." Loki straightened, hesitantly putting his arm around my shoulders, and I tilted my head, resting it against his chest as I watched the warring figures below.