A/N: Hi all,

So. This is really awkward. Mostly for me though, I guess.

I don't really know how many FanFic writers have picked a story back up after almost 2 years (really hoping I'm not the only one), but here I am. Picking this one back up.

Obviously LOTS of things have happened since I last posted. I won't bore you with the details, but for me, it was a lot of personal stuff and some very, very tough times. But, I'm happy to say that life is a lot better now and I'm finally able to get back to the things that I enjoy doing – one of which is writing.

More importantly though, shitloads of stuff happened in the MCU and unfortunately that now means that this story is more of an AU set after CA: TWS.

Nonetheless, I hope that there are still some of you out there that are interested in this story and aren't bothered by an AU timeline cause I had a big plan for this fic, and I'm not ready to let it go.

So, anyway, on to the story, and as always, I hope you guys like it. :)

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Taking a small break from her computer, Grace rubbed her tired eyes and glanced over to the couch only to let out a small smile at the sight before her.

Sometime in the last 20 minutes he had dozed off. Finally, she thought; cause, as much as he was desperately trying to hide it from her, she knew that he wasn't getting anywhere near the amount of sleep he should be. Then again, it wasn't as though she could really blame him – it wasn't like he had an abundance of sweet dreams waiting for him in the land of nod…

Still, it made her happy to see him getting some rest, even if it would be short lived.

Stealing one last look at his slumped position on the couch, she shook her head slightly in disbelief. How had it come to this? How had she taken in a complete stranger without a second thought? How had he managed to slot himself into her life so neatly in less than three weeks? How did he manage to make her little apartment feel more like home?

But more important to Grace than those burning "how" questions, were her burning "why" questions.

Why had she been so compelled to help him? Why did the thought of him leaving and never coming back utterly terrify her? And why did her heart rate elevate the way it did on the rare occasion that he let out a genuine laugh or smile?

Deep down, she suspected that she already knew the answers to these questions, but she also knew that she was nowhere near ready to start admitting them to herself. There was also a part of her that feared she would never be ready for questions like that – and not just from him either, but for anybody that could make her feel the way he did. After all, she'd been burned before…

Blanching slightly at the dark memory that had surfaced, she shook her head once more and quickly returned to her open laptop.

These late nights were killing her and there was nothing she wanted more at that very moment than to give in to herself and just crawl into bed. Glancing away from the screen once more, she checked her watch.

2:41am.

Letting out a huge sigh, she inwardly chastised herself. Where had the past 3 hours gone? Had she even actually achieved anything tonight or had she just been wasting her time?! With her frustration growing, Grace glanced at her watch for a second time and made a snap decision.

15 minutes. She would take a break for 15 minutes, do some more work, and be in bed no later than 3:30am.

And with that, she pushed her laptop away to make space for her arms and promptly laid down her head, deciding to try and make the most of the next 15 minutes.

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It was the sensation of his slow descent further down into the cushions of the couch that woke him.

Looking around slightly, groggily blinking the sleep from his eyes, he took in his surroundings. Living room, television still on the same channel with the volume down low, the lower half of his body sagging towards the floor in the areas that it hung from the couch, while the upper half had been doing its best impression of melting into the plush material of the cushions.

He noted, with some amusement, that the remote control was located several inches away from him on the floor – this was obviously where it had landed when it had eventually slipped from his hand while he was napping.

Sitting up, he looked towards the clock, pleased to see that he had managed to sleep for almost 2 hours without any issues. No nightmares, no bad memories pushing their way through from his subconscious, not even any whispers of people calling his name.

All in all, he considered this a win and couldn't help the flutter of contentment that flooded him. He didn't like to get his hopes up, but he couldn't deny the facts: each day he was in the apartment, each day he was around Grace, he improved. Were they small improvements? Absolutely. But for him, every little bit counted. Every little piece of himself that he could reclaim was precious to him, and, as far as he was concerned, there was no piece too small.

Feeling the tightness in his muscles from his impromptu nap, he rose from the couch and began stretching out his limbs, or rather, his flesh limbs as it were.

It was at that point that he looked over to the kitchen table only to find Grace had fallen asleep herself. Looking at the clock again he noted, with some concern, the late (or in this case, early) hour. Every night this week she'd stayed up, pushing herself more and more, going to bed later and later.

He knew from talking to Grace that her job was something she loved and how important it was to her, but he couldn't help but disapprove of something that was hurting her. Her act may have been close to flawless, but he had still noticed the toll this past week had taken on her.

Dark circles lined her eyes, she was stifling yawns every 5 minutes, and hadn't gone a day without complaining of a headache; and now, here she was, asleep on her kitchen table, her laptop still open in front of her.

Doing some quick math in his head, he took in what he already knew about Grace's work schedule: the fact that she started work at 9, always left the apartment by 8:30, and generally got up a few minutes either side of 7 o'clock; meaning, that if he put her to bed now, she'd be able to claim almost 3 hours worth of quality sleep before she started her day.

As he went through all this in his head, he moved towards the table. In truth, he had made up his mind about what he was going to do the moment he saw her - the math was more of a courtesy than anything.

Coming to stand next to her, he paused for a moment to take in the sight before him, becoming more certain than ever that moving her was the right thing to do. There was nothing about what he saw before him right now that said "comfort" or "peaceful".

Standing this close he could see the slight frown she wore on her face as she slept, and could hear the quiet groans she would make every time she moved slightly in place. His heart went out to her instantly, and his resolve was strengthened.

With as much caution as he would muster, he bent down towards her, reaching out to her as he did. Gently, and without hesitation, he lifted her head from her arms and rested it on his shoulder before reaching down to pick her up from her chair, one arm under her knees, her other snaked behind her back.

She stirred slightly at the change in position, but he continued his mission, deftly lifting her into his arms and made a beeline towards her bedroom.

It was as they passed the living room that he heard her utter a soft "no… I have work…".

"Shhh, you need sleep." He replied gently, never wavering in his task.

She offered no reply, but he was keenly aware of the way she ever so slightly nuzzled herself into his chest as they continued their path to her room. He was also keenly aware of the way his heart gave a small flutter at the added contact.

The light from the hall offered sufficient illumination as he delivered her to her bed.

By some miracle the sheets were already turned down, meaning he was saved the trouble of attempting to balance her in one hand whilst pulling away the sheets with the other. He'd have to be more proactive next time and make sure her bed was ready before he picked her up…

For a brief second, he checked himself. Next time?

He quickly dismissed the thought, deciding instead to focus on successfully putting Grace to bed.

With as much care as he had used to pick her up, he gently lowered her down before pulling her blankets up around her. He noted her small, contented sigh as she snuggled deeper into the sheets and couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face.

Before turning to make his way out of her room he paused to take her in once more.

Her long, brown hair was still half secured in the messy bun she'd made when she'd sat down at her computer hours ago, her expression was now contented with all frown lines giving way to peaceful sleep.

It was without conscious thought that he extended his right hand and gently pushed some loose strands of hair from her face, incidentally brushing his fingers across the smooth skin of her cheek.

God, she's beautiful.

Without warning, another small sigh escaped her lips and instantly he was snapped back to reality, quickly snatching back his hand. The last thing he would want would be for her to wake up and find him staring at her, let alone touching her face.

So, before he could be tempted again, he turned and made his way towards the door; stealing one last look at her small, sleeping form before gently closing the door behind him.

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A/N: I'm hoping to do one more chapter of character foundation – if for nothing else than to fully reacquaint myself with the characters, and then I'll be introducing some genuine plot points to actually move the plot along.