Aha! Finally got this chapter done. I went a bit longer than the usual to get passed a bit o' drama. This is a lighthearted fic, after all! (Right? Right.)

Hope you all enjoy! ;)

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Natasha and Clint crouched in a dark corner of the room and eyed the glowing blue cube set upon a podium in the center of the space. They'd flipped their cloaks over to the underside, which was lined in black, so that they melted into the walls and remained relatively unseen. Clint frowned and shook his head.

"It's too easy," he whispered. "No guards, no case. I don't like it." Nat sent him a droll look.

"What do you call the giant ice spikes we had to work our way around?"

"Decorations."

She rolled her eyes and eyed their prize once more. Clint may've had a point. It seemed irresponsible and lax to just leave one of the most powerful artifacts in their world out in open as it was. The fact that it wasn't fashioned to Loki's side or imbedded into his throne was shocking enough. After confirming that there were no physical traps that she could see, Nat reached into a pouch at her side and pulled out a chunk of wood. It was a piece of a White Oak branch, and while it wasn't magical itself, it was an excellent conductor for magical energy.

It stayed inanimate in her hand as she edged it forward, but the moment she even breached the shadows of the room it began to hum.

Nat cursed quietly and backed away.

"There's some sort of magic field around it," she said. "I'm not sure if he's got a guard set, or if it's from the cube itself."

Clint eyed the cube and the room with a critical eye. Under the lax, dumb persona he enjoyed maintaining, he was actually quite sharp. Nat wouldn't work with him otherwise.

"A guard's magic would be consistent through the entire room," he said. "If it's residual magic from the cube, it's going to become more concentrated the closer you get."

"And if I test this theory out and trip the guard?"

Clint shrugged and adjusted his compact bow.

"Then we grab it and run. Loki's been distracted with trying to move forces into Andolasia. He's probably looking for big power moves. Magic against magic. You know him and Tony hate each other. May not be expecting a couple magicless humans."

Nat tilted her head to the side, processing all Clint said. She shifted on the balls of her feet and gripped the base of the branch piece.

"Well. Wish me luck."

[]

It was worse because it was the weekend. Sutton couldn't escape to work and avoid interacting for eight hours and then feign exhaustion when she got back home.

Of course they were both up already and dressed in the morning. Like they were ready to go out. Sutton internally growled. She had taken them out the previous weekend, feeling guilty that they were constantly cooped up.

They greeted her warmly to which Sutton responded with no eye contact and a closed lip smile. She set to work on the coffee and used that as an excuse to not speak with them.

Distance. She needed distance.

Perhaps going out was a good idea.

She already knew they felt her cold shoulder. There was an uneasy static in the air as they shifted in the living room, probably confused by her sudden change in behavior. But that couldn't be helped. And anyway, Sutton knew how it'd go. If you ignored someone long enough they moved from confused to hurt and then to angry at you fairly quickly. Angry she could deal with. Anger created distance and didn't make her feel as bad.

"Did you… sleep alright," Steve hedged. He sounded concerned. Sutton turned her head but didn't quite look at him.

"Yep. Great."

More silence.

"Oh. Good."

Breakfast was an awkward affair. It made Sutton lose her appetite and and squirm internally, but she pressed on.

For everyone's good, she told herself. Steve and Bucky's too. They'd be happier to go home. She shook her head as she picked at her cereal. Why would she assume they'd even miss her at all?

After eating they did go out. Weekends were Sprinkles' free time and Sutton tried to spend those days walking and in the dog park to ease her guilt over the tiny apartment. Steve and Bucky followed after her, attempting to strike up conversations that she'd immediately shoot down or put an end to. It was worse than she'd anticipated.

It wasn't the first time she'd employed the silent treatment and it'd always made her feel bad to some degree, but not quite like this. It had never quite reached the level of feeling like a betrayal.

"Did you have a plan for today," Steve asked. He was trying to keep his tone light, but Sutton could hear the strain underneath it.

"Nope. Just walking."

"Oh."

A beat passed.

"Any other interesting dietary suggestions?"

Sutton shrugged at Bucky's question.

"Not really."

She kept her pace quick to stay ahead of them so that she wouldn't have to see their faces. It might crack her resolve if she had to watch their reactions, if the tones of their voices were anything to go by.

Sprinkles tugged on her leash obstinately as Sutton continued to ignore them. She gave a short, grunting growl as she caught her own leash between her teeth and yanked down. Sutton stumbled, but caught herself better than she had the last time Sprinkles had tried that trick.

"No. We're not doing that again."

With that, Sprinkles changed tactics and let out a pathetic whine. Sutton felt the tug on her heartstrings.

"Come on." She whined quietly herself. "This already isn't fair."

Sprinkles pegged her with a look that was too introspective for a dog, that or Sutton was seriously projecting, but whichever it didn't make her feel less horrible.

Maybe she'd still get them coffee. She didn't have to break her silent streak for that, but coffee would help ease the sting. That or the bitterness would emphasize her awful behavior.

Sunday was no better. No, that was an understatement. It was a hundred times worse. Because Steve and Bucky had already gone through a day of her shrugging them off and they were already onto her. They watched her with guarded eyes and attempted to speak with her less. Steve looked like she'd taken Bucky's sword and ran it through his chest.

But she wasn't going to crack and give up only a day and a half into attempting to emotionally distance herself from them. No matter how little it seemed to be working for her.

She just needed more time.

If anyone was showing a blatantly open irritation at the change in dynamics, it was Sprinkles. Sprinkles who'd taken to pacing and snapping her jaws in irritation when Sutton ignored questions. Who didn't seem quite as excited for the scraps of treats under her kibble at dinner.

Sutton had known letting strangers into her home would come back to bite her.

By Monday work sounded like a retreat, and Sutton escaped to her office with none of the dread lifted except for the fact that she didn't have to actively act like the world's biggest jerk. There was work to do, mindless, numbing, work, and she put more effort into it than was normal or necessary in order to stop thinking for a bit.

Tuesday and she still felt like crap. Probably didn't look great either, given the way she'd slapped herself together before shooting out the front door. Generally most of her coworkers were absorbed in their own work and left her alone. It was appreciated. Still, she tried to appear chipper and normal even if her hair was a bit frizzy and sloppily done. Even if it was all a lie.

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"Oh no, what happened?"

At Alexandra's upset cry, Sutton looked up from the copying machine and furrowed her brow. Her coworker appeared more concerned than she had any need to be. Especially since Sutton knew she wasn't sporting any bruises or openly sobbing in public.

"What are you talking about?"
Alexandra's hair almost seemed to flutter on its own as she gestured a vague outline around Sutton.

"Your energy is all off. Negative. Did something happen?"

Sutton let out an awkward laugh as she shuffled in place.

"Energy?"

"Oh," said Alexandra. "I mean, aura. Or, um, vibe. You're vibe seems...sad."

Collecting her paperwork, Sutton shot Alexandra another odd glance as she headed back to her cubicle. She didn't think she'd been acting too strangely. If anything, she was trying to do everything to mask a few feelings, and convince herself they weren't there in the first place.

"No, I'm fine," she said. She flashed Alexandra a smile. "Maybe just a little tired."

"Are you sure," Alexandra prodded. "I mean, no offense, but you've seemed… reserved the last couple days. I thought you were really happy after… speaking with your new friends."

Sutton winced.

"They're just visiting," she said. "But they have to go home soon. Nice while it lasted though." She sighed. "I'm fine. Really. Thanks for asking."

Alexandra wrung her hands a bit as Sutton gave her a wave and walked away. She hardly looked convinced, but Sutton still wasn't sure how she'd noticed, or why she cared so much, in the first place.

Sutton put more effort into appearing carefree and smiling the rest of the workday, but everytime she ran into Alexandra the woman looked fretful and upset. She shook her head as she packed up her things and turned her computer off for the night.

Alexandra was obviously an overly sensitive person. More-so than she'd have thought. Sutton would just have to be more careful about her mood swings in front of her.

[]

The apartment was quiet when she got back home. There had been faint murmuring before she'd put her key in the lock, but the minute the scraping, metallic noise sounded she could hear it abruptly stop. It made the hair on her neck prickle and her stomach churn. But she deserved it, she supposed. She'd started this herself.

Steve and Bucky looked as though they'd been conversing something important on the couch when she opened the door. Sutton nodded silently in their direction as a greeting. At the other end of the couch Sprinkles was curled into a ball. She only huffed as Sutton stepped through the door and didn't bother getting up. A bit of her heart cracked further at that, and Sutton turned away quickly to go change in her room.

Even her dog. Even her dog hated her. Maybe she should let Steve take her when he left, if he even could. Sprinkles would be happier, she liked him better. And she'd probably have more room to run and play.

Sutton shouldn't have adopted her anyway, no matter how lonely she'd been. She didn't have a yard or a job that let her spend more time at home.

Maybe she just deserved to be alone. Fate kept pushing that on her, after all.

After changing, she grabbed a random book from her nightstand and slipped back out to her dining room table to pretend to read.

[]

"Would you mind if I took Sprinkles for a walk?"

Sutton stopped mindlessly scanning the pages of her book and peeked up at Bucky from over the spine. She blinked twice, her gaze shooting from Bucky to Sprinkles and back again.

"You," she asked. Bucky gave her a chagrined smile and rubbed at the back of his head.

"As much as I enjoy everyone's company, I did still live on my own in Andolasia. Some space would be...appreciated."

Her lips thinned as she considered the request. Realistically, it shouldn't have felt any different than leaving her dog with them all day. For all she knew they already took her on walks while she was at work. But still. Seeing him leave her apartment with Sprinkles felt like an uncomfortable vision.

Think about Sprinkles. She's already upset with you.

Bucky was right. It'd been awhile since any of them had any real privacy. Having

Sprinkles with him would give him an excuse for mindless wandering and cut down the amount of people who might get too close. Sutton put down her book.

"Do you know how to put on her harness?"

He smiled thankfully and nodded.

"I've seen you do it. And it isn't more complicated than saddling a horse."

Steve was still in the living room with a book of his own now and he watched Bucky leave with a particular look. They nodded to each other before Bucky closed the door and the quiet descended again. Sutton focused back on reading. She couldn't remember what it was about for the life of her, but it made it seem like she was normal and occupied with something.

And everyone knew it was rude to try and start a conversation with someone while they were reading a book.

A minute or two passed and she heard Steve set his book down on her battered coffee table. He stood and made his way to her kitchen.

"Would you mind if I made some coffee?"
Sutton didn't look up. She turned the page of her book whether she'd finished reading it or not.

"You don't have to ask."

Evidently they'd been paying enough attention to what she did to pick up how to do a few things. Steve fixed the coffee pot and had it brewing with the ease of a lifetime user. Granted, she allowed, it wasn't exactly rocket science.

He filled two mugs. Sutton's fingers curled more tightly around the cover of her book as he set down a mug in front of her with a quiet clink. She glanced at it and noted he'd even included enough creamer to make it blonde.

Yes. He paid too much attention.

The sound of him pulling out the chair across from her was exceptionally loud in the small space. It made the fact that Sutton was purposefully ignoring him even more obvious.

Clearing her throat, she lowered her book and picked up her mug by the handle.

"Thank you," she murmured. Steve nodded. His hands were clasped in front of him on the tabletop and he was staring at her with a wrinkled brow. His nose was slightly scrunched between the eyes and he was running his thumb over his knuckles in what she recognized as a self-soothing motion.

Sutton shook the observation away and sipped at her drink. She still hadn't made eye contact with him, which was made more difficult by the fact that he was blatantly staring at her dead on.

"Did you finish your book?" Her tone was a bit clipped, but neutral enough. Steve only frowned further.

"Did I do something to offend you," he asked. Sutton put her book down completely, grasping the mug with her other hand as well and drawing her knees up onto her chair.

"No. I don't know why you'd even think that."

"Bucky?"

Sutton scowled, briefly glancing at his face, as she took another drink.

"No. I'm fine. No one made me mad."

"Then what's turned your mood so sour? Do you think we haven't noticed? You've hardly even looked at us these last few days. Let alone spoken to us."

She took a deep breath and centered herself. She'd been dumb. Of course they wouldn't let her get away with the closed off route. She'd foolishly went that direction because it was usually easier for her.

Shaking her head, she turned her face up towards him and let an awkward smile crawl over her face. As if she'd accidentally let a misunderstanding slip and now had to correct it.

"Sorry," she said, lightening her tone. "Yeah, you're right. No, it's, uh, not you. Just-just work stuff piling up I've been stressed about." She forced herself to laugh but otherwise didn't move. "Sorry to have made you think that, though."

Steve took a slow drink from his own mug and leveled his gaze at her, his expression still firm.

"I don't appreciate being lied to," he said evenly. "And it isn't going to help resolve this issue."

Sutton stiffened. People generally hadn't called her out so frankly when she'd done this before.

Resolve the issue. He wanted to resolve the issue. As if they were in a spat. As if they had some form of a relationship to salvage.

There was nothing to resolve if they were strangers, pushed together by circumstance and her own accommodating nature.

"There's no issue to resolve," she said lowly. "Neither of you have done anything wrong and I'm not upset with you. That's the truth."

Steve's face fell, the skin between his brows puckering again, and Sutton looked away.

"I thought- I thought we were beginning to… get along."

Why did he have to sound so sincere and devastated like that? It wasn't fair. And it wasn't called for. It made her heart ache even as her head screamed 'a bit over a week! You don't feel like this after knowing someone a little over a week. Pull yourself together!'

"We are getting along. I'm not sure what you-"

"You were freer before," Steve interrupted. His speech sped up in a frustrated passion the more he spoke. "You laughed and joked and you were familiar with us. Now you'll hardly look in either of our directions. You'll barely even speak to me. Almost as if it pains you. Forgive me if I don't understand the sudden change in your temperament when-"

"You're going back ok?" Sutton snapped and set her mug back on the table harshly. There was blood rushing up to her head and that ball of emotion stuck in her chest was pulsing dangerously as she pushed her chair away and stood.

"That Tony guy will be magicing you back to your world soon and then you'll finally be back where you belong, so what do you care? I'm just helping you until you can get home. That's my purpose. So don't blow this up into something bigger."

Steve's expression flickered as he sat back, his hunched posture relaxing as he continued to stare at her with some measure of pity. Sutton bit the inside of her cheek and felt herself prickle. She hated it when people looked at her like that.

"You don't want to get hurt." Steve's voice was gentle, understanding, but it still grated on her.

"Don't," she said. "You don't know me. You don't know what I'm afraid of. And I've been through worse than a couple of couch crashers finally leaving."

"What?"

She snatched up her mug as if he'd grab her if she were too slow and used it as a shield while she stared at him in befuddlement.

"What? What do you mean what?"

"What have you been through? You've been incredibly quiet about yourself since we've been here."

Sutton let out a sharp laugh and shook her head.

"Oh no. I don't think you've unlocked my backstory."

"Who else do you have to tell?"

The room went silent. Sutton's throat closed up as she endured the full blow of his words. Only a bit over a week and he had her pegged. She kept her eyes on her coffee as she tried to keep her breathing steady. Steve closed his eyes as he winced.

"Way to go," she finally rasped. "You got me." She let out a bitter laugh as she held her mug closer. "Poor little Sutton. All alone; haven't you heard? The other kids say she must be cursed."

Steve's face fell further, his eyes widening and Sutton couldn't look directly at him. Her nose wrinkled as the side of her lip curled up and her knuckles hurt with how stiff her fingers were.

"You're right. I have no one." She blinked rapidly and her cold smile was more of a grimace.

"Grandpa went first, up cleaning gutters even though grandma and mom told him not to." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"The paramedics say he fell just right. Just right to kill him. I was twelve." Her tongue pressed against the backs of her teeth as she kept herself contained. Tried to process her next words. Steve remained silent and still.

"It was devastating for all of us. It was always just us four. But it was obviously harder for grandma. Two years later she just sort of," she shrugged, "faded away. Apparently she missed him more than she loved us. And mom," her voice choked, "it was all too much for her. I tried to be good. Tried to make things easy. But still." She wiped at her eyes. "Half a year later she was working late one night, trying to make rent, and-and some drunk driver ran a red light. She didn't even-even make it to the hospital."

The lump in her throat was too thick. She had to pause and she could hear Steve swallow as he shifted in his seat. Sutton turned her gaze back towards him and quickly wiped under her eye more aggressively.

"Not many want to foster a moody teenager. Luckily I only had about three years left to hop around before I graduated and they turned me loose. So there you have it. My official sob story. Hope it lived up to all your expectations."

Sutton turned sharply and set her mug in the sink as she moved to leave the kitchen and flee down the hall to her room. That ball of energy erupted and send hot sparks through her. Why had she told him all that? That hadn't been her plan when she opened her mouth.

"Sutton. Wait."

His hand caught her elbow again and she went rigid. She kept her eyes fixed down the hall as Steve attempted to shift in front of her and face her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't- I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You can't." Her voice was gravelly and she cleared her throat as Steve stared down at her in admonishment. He looked away briefly.

"I lost both my parents as well," he said. "It's why I'm set to be crowned king so soon. I've actually- I've actually been putting off my coronation for awhile. But I understand the pain."

It was difficult to make eye contact, so she didn't. It was a big enough struggle not to start crying in front of him, which she berated herself for. It'd happened years ago. And yet, every time she thought about it the wounds always felt fresh.

"I'm sorry," she said automatically. "It never stops hurting."

"Pushing me-" He cleared his throat. "Pushing people away doesn't make it stop. I at least learned that." Sutton shrugged blithely and folded her arms over her chest.

"Maybe, but at least you don't have to pretend." Finally she looked to him, her eyes glassy and angry. An undealt with sort of festering anger that had roots older than his stay with her.

"People always expect you to be fine. One month, two, you can cry. But it's not their hurt. Not their problem. They always expect you to be over it soon. Get out, do things, stop grieving, it's what they would have wanted. Then you barricade yourself in the guest room too much, accidentally break a glass, snap at their kid once, and it's off to the next house. So you tell me which one is worse."

His face crumpled again and Sutton hissed through her teeth.

"Don't," she said. "Don't feel bad for me. Other people have had it worse than I have."

Steve tsked and hesitantly reached for her elbow again. His fingers were hot on her skin. Sutton felt something in her shift, like mere human contact could make her come undone.

"It isn't pity. I just can't imagine that there could be anyone who wouldn't want you."

All of the air was sucked from her lungs and Sutton choked. One hand flew up to cover her mouth and she let out an unsteady breath as she fought back tears to no avail. They leaked out and ran down her face openly in a show of honesty she wasn't quite comfortable with.

How- how could he know just what to say? What did he really care- No. She couldn't even convince herself of that. Bucky had left on purpose, she realized, so that Steve could talk to her alone. Without an audience. And he'd put in the effort to see why she was acting oddly in the first place. Hadn't gotten mad and defensive like the rest.

Even still, where did that leave her?

Slowly, so that she could move away if she wanted, he pulled her closer. Sutton let herself be held in his embrace. Despite her earlier call for distance. Despite every logical voice in her head. Because- because when was the last time she'd been hugged by someone who might actually care about her? There was some needy part of her that was craving it. Crying for it. Her chest felt like it was collapsing as she held onto him more tightly, her fingers gripping his soft, cotton shirt and the faint scent of laundry detergent creeping through her senses.

"You never fully grieved," Steve said. Sutton clenched her teeth a moment until she felt like she'd gained enough control to speak.

"It's been a long time."

"There's no time limit on grief."

Of all the things he'd said, she wasn't sure how that was the phrase to break her down fully. But it was. Maybe she'd hate herself for it later, but she cried. A man who she'd considered a strange stranger a week ago, and grown to be fond of in a few days time, she openly clung to and cried on.

What was happening to her?

Steve lowered them both to the carpet right there in the hall and held her until she stopped sobbing. He ran his fingers through her hair as she settled her breathing and Sutton couldn't find it in her to tell him to stop. It was comforting, warm, soothing in ways that other gestures hadn't been. Nothing like the awkward squeeze of her shoulder from a somber policeman.

She felt…. Valued. Personally valued.

Sutton wiped at her eyes and let out an awkward laugh as she separated herself from Steve. There were wet splotches on his shirt and she could feel the burn from her eyes, knew they were red and probably a bit swollen.

So much for distancing herself.

"Well, that- that was-" She didn't know which to settle on. Embarrassing? Overdramatic? Releasing? How could she possibly make a joke out of this now after how much she'd broken down?

Steve tilted her chin up and Sutton made eye contact even as her face heated.

"You're strong, Sutton," he said. His own eyes were a bit red-rimmed and it surprised her. "And I'll never admit this to Buck, but he was right. No one's meant to be alone. You don't have to be."

She laughed again, a spark of longing flashing through her even as she shook her head.

"I guess I'd have to work on making friends again, then, right? I'd need the skill after- after you and Bucky…. You and Bucky go back."

The light in his eyes shifted, the blue in his iris' deepening as his jaw clenched. His hand cupped her jaw and he lowered his head closer. Sutton could feel his breath fanning her face.

"If you agreed, if you wanted, do you think I wouldn't come back for you?"

There was an explosion of butterflies in her stomach that fluttered up her throat and Sutton had to swallow them back down.

She shouldn't feel- he shouldn't feel- after a week, but….

Was the potential for something, did that make any of it worth it?

"Steve."

Sutton wasn't even sure what she wanted to say. He was so close, so warm, and there was an exciting electricity racing through her when he stared into her eyes like that. Steve let out a breath and licked his bottom lip; Sutton's eyes followed the movement. He tilted his head down further and Sutton shifted upwards.

And then the front door opened.

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BUCKY! DUDE!

And so now you know Sutton's tragic backstory... What a soap opera...