Avengers - Civil War AU - Kintsugi Golden Repair - ABANDONED

"Have you every secretly hoped for something, and once it turns out to be true, you wish it wasn't?" Kerica asked Wanda as she stood with the witch on the varanda watching the three men below return from their run. Bucky was shoving Sam, who shoved back, and Steve doubled over laughing when the two ended up in the dirt.

"Hmm..." Wanda hummed softly and nodded her head. "Yes. I believe everyone has that one wish that they hoped would come true and when it does, it's not exactly what they wanted." She smiled softly as the men entered the palace and turned her attention to Kerica. "What was your wish?"

"That Bucky and Steve were /together/ together," Kerica shrugged casually, though her eyes were filled with turmoil. She knew Wanda could glimmer into her mind, "I doubt Steve swings both ways, might be why he was so bad with girls, according to Bucky. "You already know I want to be with him. I just feel like its pointless."

"I think that you are seeing the wrong picture." Wanda frowned deeply as she tapped her nails against the railing, looking at Kerica. "I think that you are oblivious, and that obliviousness is hurting you. Steve has asked you out, numerous times. It is you, unfortunately, who cannot take the hint. And you must remember that polyamory is a thing. Steve has a big heart. Undoubtedly he can love you and Bucky just as much or just the same."

Kerica gnared on her bottom lip, knowing Wanda was right. Wanda knew she was right, too. "Why do I hate myself so much, Wanda? Why can't I just let myself fall in love with him?" Part of the answer was she didn't want to come across as a fangirl all over again, and being...anyone's girlfriend, let alone Steve's, would make her giddy and so happy she would have a hard time containing herself, so she knocked herself down, wanting to reach but forcing herself not to. "Did you know I never dated before?" A random question, but she didn't know how well Wanda could read speeding thoughts, so she wanted to keep her somewhat in the loop.

"I haven't dated myself." Wanda said softly, gently. "He's your first love and you want to make a good impression. You don't want him to think that you're a groupie so to speak." She watched her friend for a moment and shook her head from side to side. "I think, perhaps, you may want to talk to Nyah or Sam for more insight. I think that you are fearful."

"I am. I'll readily admit it to you, Wanda, because I trust you," Kerica rubbed her arms as she hugged herself, looking back out at the vast jungle, "I'm very fearful. It's often said that the first love hurts the most when you're rejected or otherwise denied. You...and Vision...Steve and Buck...and I've always thought my devotion was honest, reasonable. I am not about to force myself on Steve, where I feel like anyone else would have. It's an obvious point indeed that he thought I was only fangirling over him before for his reputation. I...love him for his mind, his determination, his will /and/ that big heart of his. I don't know how to prove that to him."

"What if you already had?" Wanda questioned. "What if you already proved everything you said, and you're just holding back?"

"I don't know the answer to that one, really," Kerica shook her head, "I guess...I just want to hear it from him. I want /him/ to tell me that it's okay...and...so many other things." That she's good enough, that she's not weak, that she can fight just as well as the rest of them, that he'll protect her but that she can take care of herself well enough. She gave a hallow laugh, "I need a lot of reassurances and I feel pathetic for it. I shouldn't /need/ them."

Wanda nodded her head. "I understand that." She said softly. "I understand that very well." She looked at her friend. "But I don't know what to say to help you. To be honest, I think you're making the mistake of waiting. Until you learn to stand on your own, I think you will always feel weak. I think that you are so used to feeling down, so used to feeling like you aren't good, you don't have confidence in yourself. Are you not the Black Widow's student?"

"She didn't get to train me very long," Kerica frowned, "Hell I didn't even get to go on a single mission with you guys so I didn't have to sign any paper like they were trying to force you to. Had things been different, perhaps I would be more confident. Natasha was a good teacher and role-model from the time I spent with her, but it wasn't enough. I kept up my training, but I didn't have anyone to train /with/. There's only so much you can accomplish by yourself. You can't train your dodging or keeping an eye on your opponent if you have no opponent besides your imagination."

"Then start sparring with us." Wanda said simply. "Start engaging with us like a friend rather than an outsider. Now you make excuses." She shook her head and looked at Kerica sadly. "I urge you to speak with Sam or Nyah. Your thoughts, they are very deep. They are damaging. It is like a spiral you cannot get out of. No one here is upset of the fact you weren't apart of the war. For to be honest, I do not think you would have fought it, regardless of what side you chose."

"I don't like the idea of hurting my friends, and I would have had to fight Tony, and my teacher, and Vision. I agree with you, really," Kerica nodded, "It's a hard fact, but you know me fairly well. You point things out and I think about it, and it just makes /sense/. That's why I like these conversations we have. I missed them," she grinned at Wanda, "You did help me feel a bit better. It always helps to talk about it, and Sam is Steve's buddy so he'll be good to get ideas from, and Nyah is a /Soul Healer/ so there will probably be really deep advice. Hearing more than one voice on the matter just might be what I need, though they'll probably all tell me the same thing, and that I just need to speak up. In regards to training...you're not much for hand-to-hand, but maybe I can pounce on Clint. He's an old man, he needs to keep himself in shape," she giggled.

"Clint is indeed old. I don't think anyone wants to train with Scott. He cheats." Wanda laughed merrily. "I think that hearing everyone's opinion about what you should do will help you. They may say the same thing, but they may also give you direction. Have you eaten breakfast? We should go down and eat before Steve and Bucky get a hold of the food. Once they start, we won't have anything left."

"Trying to beat the cheaters at their own game is fun," Kerica was giddy at the idea of training with everyone again. A week of settling in was plenty long enough. "Yes! Breakfast sounds fantastic. Let's go. Then we're supposed to watch Nyah's performance!"

~*~

The song that Nyah had sang for the King, and in turn for the group had been…well….it had been surprising. Nyah sang a song of Wanda’s love being abandoned and how she was strong enough to not let it deter her from what she thought was right. She sang about how Wanda forgave Bucky, the war, and Vision for dragging her into a fight she didn’t want to be apart of. Wanda didn’t realize that her soul had been hurt so badly, and she didn’t realize her own determination.

Clint honestly wasn’t shocked that Nyah sang of his family, of the price that he made to leave behind peace. He didn’t have to be apart of this fight, in fact he had every right not to considering he said that he was retired. He didn’t agree with the Accords and just decided that peace was better than a fight. What did shock him, though, was how she said that “someone dear was threatened and it was enough to commit treason”. He didn’t think that part of the story had been well-known. He wondered if she saw it in his soul, or if she just guessed.

He wouldn’t be surprised if she was a mind-reader. There seemed to be an endless supply of those.

Sam had been surprised to hear his at all, until towards the end of her song. She had spoke of everyone else, he had thought he didn't make a big enough impression. He had thought he would be okay with that, but he discovered he was quite happy to be included. It didn't quite click until her 'the soldier of healing' line which yes, he believed he was. When Steve refused to do therapy of doctors, he knew he was the better choice, opening his arms in understanding, and the two of them had clicked. His fondest memory of associating with Steve had to be talking about how a normal bed felt like a marshmallow. Then today on his run with him and Buck, he had been on Cloud 9 just /watching/ the two of them, how happy they were and he could see two best friends, not two soldiers who went to hell and back. He wasn't afraid of Buck, had even been with the two of them through most of the journey they made. He snorted thinking about the car scene, and the fight with Tony's pet Spiderman. Bonding while fighting. He couldn't imagine it happening any other way.

Scott on the other hand was a little shocked to hear his daughter mentioned throughout the song. Sure, he was a thief, that part was practically common knowledge, but to hear his daughter mentioned made him miss her. He thought about what she was saying, about how he just showed up and decided to fight for Steve's side. She was right, it was mostly because he didn't believe in the Accords and wanted to have the privacy and do his own thing. He couldn't always be on call, and retirement sounded wrong to him. He had so much to do to atone.

He really hoped Cassie was happy with him. That she knew he was trying to do the right thing.

Meara had had a therapy session with as many as was willing to talk to him, Clint, Wanda, and Scott being those he had. Sam's 'therapy' session had mostly been him talking about the others and his opinion on the whole matter, which he was grateful for. So, hearing Nyah's melody echo in the chamber they sat in, listening to her thoughts and feelings on them all after only a day, it almost made him feel like he failed as a doctor. He could only do so much for them, give advice where needed, being as T'Challa called him a Soul Reader. Yet here she was, a Soul /Healer/. He ultimately knew, as he glanced towards Kerica, Steve, and Bucky, that he just had to leave it in her hands to mend his 'cubs' for him.

Kerica was trying hard not to cry. Her lines were obvious ones, at least to her. Wanda was easy, the Illusionist, so what other 'girl' was there to fit? 'A girl with the lowest self-esteem I ever met.' followed a few lines later by 'The girl does not see that she is worth more than what’s squandered.' The only comfort she had was the others were too focused on their own lines to think about her own. It confirmed what Wanda had said, and she should definitely talk to Sam and Nyah. Later, though. Bucky came first before any of them.

While everyone heard their own piece, Bucky knew this song in it's entirety was meant for him. He listened to it all very intently, and he had the hardest face on as he processed everything acutely, not wanting to reveal anything. He did feel those things with Nyah, that he would put her in danger, excitement that he could be healed, longing for what he'd lost, and lust...for her. He felt like her line about reaching for her but being disappointed when he didn't grab the rope was both literal and figurative after last night when he wanted to touch her hair at dinner to his breaks on her advances.

He was curious about the second verse, about her understanding. Had she seen his case more than once? Had she been through similar situations herself? Personal questions he would have to ask later. She hinted at both, but was vague. In the third line, about his forked path, it was true he didn't know which one to take and saw many different options. Of course, her asking and him just asking his own question was very accurate. He didn't know where to begin to ask for help or what advice to ask for.

Yet, in her next verses about the others that he fought the good fight for, he understood it was all advice in it's own way, to them and to himself. Wanda's determination to fight for what was true, what her heart wanted be damned. Clint's sense of justice keeping him from lying down and taking it even though he deserved to be retired. Scott's general 'fuck you' to the world, doing what was right and ignoring everything else.

Steve...glancing at his friend as they sat in silence, it was the only movement he'd made so far to give clue to his current thought process.

Before, he had been Steve's rock. Now, Steve was his rock. It was a game of give and take, but also a game of stubbornness, wanting to do things their own way on their own time, damn the consequences, and ultimately ending up hurt because they refused the hand that was offered. He should take the hand this time, and let himself be helped by more than one source. It was pointless to feel pathetic and weak for it. It was simply the way their bond worked, and Steve wouldn't think twice about it.

Yes, he did know the soldier who stood in the middle of the paths. He knew he wouldn't fail him. His charisma had gathered everyone in this room to his side to fight on his behalf, because he was wronged. His broken heart was his doing, and he felt his own heart twist and pound in regret for causing that pain. He knew the warpath he was on, because that was a path they shared. He protected him, like he had in turn before. He had all of the power and allies he could ever ask for, and yet the line about being alone made him think of other things. They were all each other had from their own time. Their lifelines were forever intertwined, because there were jokes and references and /memories/ that only they would share. He didn't want Steve to feel that he was his only friend. Steve had many friends, and Steve had to see that he had new memories and jokes and references that Bucky would never understand in kind.

His eyes moved to Wanda, who met him firmly, and he gave her the tiniest smile and lowered his head and closed his eyes in a 'thank you', and when he opened them again he looked to Clint, Sam and Scott. They were invaluable, and they had a silent understanding that words weren't needed. The remorse had lessened, all from a single song, and he was grateful for that in a way he couldn't describe.

He hadn't believed her during the song, but when he thought about it, he knew it to be true. He did open his eyes, because she pointed out the obvious, and all he had to to was acknowledge it. He saw what he gained. What came next in the song was an entirely different matter, however, and he pondered it. Kerica. Sam. They were the closest to Steve, though Sam more from understanding the signs of PTSD and offering his aid. Could he really take Sam's hand and be rewarded with the same? Glancing at the 'soldier of healing', he felt as though he would be. Steve trusted him with those kinds of thoughts, so if Steve could he could. Simple logic, now he just had to take that leap of faith.

Kerica. Kerica on the other hand...she did walk a similar path to him. The /dark/ one, and that disturbed him deeply. Kerica looked scared as her eyes met his, even if she smiled. If she thought her poke-face was awful, she was right, because if one knew what to look for they could call them on their bullshit. To everyone else, Bucky knew, she looked just fine. She was /not/ fine. Low self-esteem and had no idea what she was worth. That stuck a very deep cord, because he didn't want to see another join him in his misery. While Sam and Steve offered their hands to /him/, Bucky decided right then he needed to offer his own to /her/ because no one else seemed to, that he was aware of. Perhaps they had and she didn't want to take them. He didn't know.

"I feel like I've known you a lot longer..."

Her words from the infirmary danced in his mind again. If she wouldn't take anyone else's hand, he had faith that she would take his.

A determination like this was something he'd never experienced before besides Steve. This song Nyah sang had cracked a bunch of holes on his shell, and he knew he was stepping foot in the right direction. He stood up just as T'Challa did and he jumped a bit in surprise, watching the King curiously.

"After listening to your song, Nyah, my anger has dispersed," T'Challa told the blond-haired woman honestly, his tone gentle, apologetic, "I cannot see as you do, but I can see enough. What I caught a glimpse of, I am happy for. I was not before, but now I am grateful for your presence here. A week ago I saw tattered souls, and today I am beginning to see the frays be woven back together and mended."

Nyah smiled brightly like it was the best news she heard. She bowed, low and gentle, her right arm covering her heart as she looked up at T'Challa and carefully straightened herself back up. "Thank you Your Highness." She said with a smile. "I will continue to do my utmost in healing your protected." She looked around the room. "You told me of one, but I see I have my work cut out for me. I'll start with the biggest and go small if it's all the same to everyone." She walked forward to Bucky and held her palms open, wrists up. Her blonde hair weaved in a thousand tiny braids with different colored beads. Just like he asked. "Which means I would like to heal you. You will take the longest...and you seemed to have rested. Will you let me?"

Bucky blinked at her, not quite sure what to make of her upturned palms or if he was supposed to do anything specific. So...he just rolled with whatever felt okay by him, and took both wrists in his large hands, leaning down to kiss the veins on each, "That is what you are here for, after all. I want to be healed, and you make me believe I can be."

She had gasped softly when his lips touched her wrists. It was intimate to her and she could feel her heart pound. Just once, she could hear something faint. Whether it was a note finally allowing her permission to pursue him, or just another melody played for a different type of soulmate, she didn't know. What she did know, was that her lips curved into the gentlest of smiles. She was so glad, so, so glad that she was going to heal him. Her shoulders slumped in relief. "Okay. But there's a few things you should know. When would you like the start?"

"Let's go." Nyah smiled warmly and she took his arm into hers and lead him out of the room. They walked for a little while, not saying anything. Then, she broke the silence. "There's a certain way to heal you, but it's going to be a lot of work." She said after a moment. "I'm talking about the Winter Solider and the passcodes. You were put under so we could break the passcodes and you wouldn't have to fear it, right? Once I find them, I'll have to activate them and talk to the Solider directly."

If there was a sound to how hard and fast Bucky stopped walking, it would be train breaks squealing on railroad tracks, "What?! No. No! That's impossible. I'm dangerous in that state! I could hurt you badly! I could cause so much damage like I did back in America when I broke out then! T'Challa would be angry, my friends would be upset, Steve..." he choked, feeling his breathing become rapid as he started to hyperventilate, panicking.

"Easy, easy." Nyah said softly, soothingly. "Not impossible." At his panicked look, she quickly cupped his face with her hand. "Look at me, Kliech. Look. I have a theory that if I awaken you as the Solider, you will focus on me and ask me for my orders. I do not think you'll hurt me in that state. I don't think you will dream of breaking out if I swear to your other side as safe." She watched him. "Of course, I'm willing to negotiate. I can restrain you if it frightens you that much. But that will mean you will be lying down...and we may have to remove the metal arm so that you can't try to break out of the restraints with it. You're tough, fast, you could kill me in an instant, I know. But if I'm honest with you, I don't think you'll bother much with me." She gently thumbed underneath his eye before she let him go. "Trust me with your soul, with your heart, and I swear to you...I won't lead you wrong."

"You are asking me for a lot," Bucky's voice was broken, his body was shaking, "I know I'm supposed to trust you. I wasn't lying when I said you make me believe I can be saved. Yet...that...asking me for that..." His chest was still heaving, and his ocean eyes dark, "T'Challa, Steve, Sam and Kerica. I will hear them. Steve holds all of which you ask, and if he thinks I can trust you with the same, I'll agree. Kerica...I saw her as my soulmate after your song. I saw what you believe. Her opinions and thoughts matter to me. Sam and Steve trust each other, and he is as logical as he believes in his heart. Why T'Challa? This is his domain. I refuse to do something so dangerous without his okay."

"Take your consul." Nyah murmured softly, gently letting him go. "Ask their opinion. But please allow me to say this much." She watched him for the longest time. "This may be your only way to heal. And as dangerous as it is to you...it is just as dangerous to me. You could very well be my last patient. And I'll be happy if that was true. I'll be more happy if I was proven wrong. But talk. I want you to be at ease with your decision." She smiled at him just a little. "You know, speaking of soulmates, I could have sworn, I started to hear you play a song for someone." She gently placed her palms at her heart and dropped her hands to her sides. "I'll be with Teresa in the Infirmary." She told him lightly. "Should you need me for anything or ask any questions."

~*~

"She wants to do what?" Steve's mind was in a whirlwind of different kinds of thoughts that went all over the place. He was thankful that they were on the balcony so that he had fresh air, otherwise, he would be walking out of whatever room he was in, in order to get some. "Is she insane?"

"That is what I wanted to ask her...I basically said she was in different words," Bucky nodded, "She is...determined, though. She believes it's the only way to help me. I don't know how she thinks she can tame me in that state."

"The soldier is a single-minded machine, only focused on the mission," Sam added, frowning deeply, "I can see where she is going but at the same time I want to shake her for being so reckless."

"Reckless is more of an understatement." Steve shook his head. "There has to be another way. She just isn't thinking of one."

Bucky fidgeted, and he didn't understand why he felt so crestfallen. He knew he should be /happy/ that Steve and his friend Sam agreed with him that it was a stupid idea. Then...the unexpected happened.

"Do it."

Bucky slowly turned to Kerica with his eyes as wide as saucers, and opened and closed his mouth but couldn't say anything.

Sam did for him, "What the /hell/?! You agree with Nyah?! Geezus, did you see him all over the TV as you watched us?! You weren't there, but you /saw/ him, didn't you?!"

"I did." She was firm, staring at Bucky with a determined expression, ignoring Sam.

"Why do you think that's a good idea?" Steve asked, curiously and wondering where Kerica was going with her thoughts. Why did she put so much faith into Nyah?

"It's a state of /mind/," Kerica looked at Steve, taking a breath and slowly explained, "The Winter Soldier is different yet the same as Bucky. Like a split personality almost but not quite. He can't communicate on the other side of the glass, only watch."

"Don't," Bucky choked. That was like hitting the nail on the head and he flinched when Sam looked at him in surprise.

"That. That right there is why you should do it, Buck," Kerica's brows knitted together and her lips were pressed into a thin line, "You're also worried about hurting her. You won't. You /can't/ hurt your Commanding Officer because they give you the orders your brainwashing needs you to follow."

"/How/?!" Bucky exploded, stepping back from Kerica, "How the hell are you doing that?! You're reading my goddamn mind!"

"Soul Reading."

"Soul...reading?" Steve paused. That explained about why she was so observant during her time in S.H.I.E.L.D and why Natasha took her on as her student. "Is it like what Nyah can do?"

"I can't heal." Kerica said, sighing, "It is a trait I gained from Meara, which is why he is a doctor. he cannot heal the soul, but he can heal the body, and he took that as good enough. There was a time I thought about becoming a counselor, but I am too much of fighter." She looked back at Bucky, "Forgive me, but words such as /Homecoming/..." his jaw dropped in shock, "/Seventeen/ and /One/..."

"STOP!" Bucky slapped his hand over his mouth, white as a ghost and terrified, stepping back further.

"Those words shouldn't scare you." Kerica turned around, "They should be an empowerment. Nyah can make that happen. She can break the glass." She walked away.

"What...the fuck just happened, Steve?" Sam asked, dumbfounded and looked over when Bucky slumped to the ground, back against the veranda wall.

"I think that was Kerica's version of a slap...and....I think those were some of the words used to create a passcode. Bucky." Steve quickly got over to his friend's side and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, kneeling next to him. "Look you don't /have/ to do this." He assured his friend. "We can force Nyah to look a different direction. But if you want to do this, if you think that Kerica's right..." and she was right as much as Steve hated to admit it right now and he wouldn't. Not to Bucky's face. "...then we can be there."

Bucky turned his face away, not willing to let Sam see his tears, "Let me breathe. Give me an hour. I need to talk to T'Challa as well." Not a yes, not a no.

"I'll go...do my own thing. This reaffirmed that you need serious help, and...I do agree with Kerica. This isn't good." Before Sam could be told to shut up, he hurried away.

"She asks me to trust her with my soul and my heart, Steve, I couldn't add that with them here..." Bucky looked up into troubled eyes as blue as the sky above them, "You have those. As I...proved last night. Do you think...she can help me if I share?"

Steve looked at him with sadness and he gently brought his hands up to cradle his best friend's face. "I think," he said slowly, carefully. "That I'm used to you chasing skirts while I was left at home or being dragged on double dates that didn't mean much." He teased, but he knew it fell flat. "I also think that this is...incredibly risky, and I wonder if she knows the risks involved. If she does, and you're hundred percent sure that you can handle this...that this is something you want to do, then I think you should allow her to attempt it. I think that Nyah would never hurt you, Buck. Never on purpose. She loves you, if the song she wrote for you wasn't indication enough."

Bucky nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Not...one hundred, but I think seventy-five is a good number," he laughed weakly, "I need you there if T'Challa even agrees to allow it. Just...stay out of my line of sight. We haven't had a single good encounter with me like that. You don't need to be a catalyst."

"Whatever you need." Steve whispered softly, pressing a kiss to Bucky's cheek and holding him close. "I'll stay out of your line of sight, just in case. Do you need me to be with you to talk to T'Challa?"

"Probably a good idea, he respects you highly," Bucky nodded and allowed Steve to help him up, before pressing a direct kiss to his lips, "Thank you."

~*~

"The castle compound is on complete lockdown and high alert, but he gets to keep his arm and you get to do whatever you need to do with him restrained in a chair. Easier for you to look him in the eye," T'Challa told Nyah firmly.

"If that's your Highness' wish then that's what I'll do." Nyah said, placing her right arm over her heart and bowing in respect before turning to Bucky. He was standing with Steve, his cheeks lost all of it's color. Sam, Kerica were also there. Sam looking more and more skeptical as the seconds ticked by and Kerica looking like a statue, firm mouth pressed into a thin line. She heard that Kerica was the entire reason why this was happening and Nyah had to admit that later on, she would want to ask her own questions to the woman. But, not now. She looked at the chair that they were going to use to restrain him. It was supposed to be enough to retain the metal arm and she could only hope that would work.

"I think it's time. We should get out of the way. I hope the words I gave you help you find the rest," Kerica told Nyah as she approached.

"When this is over, and I am still alive, I would like to ask you something." Nyah told Kerica sincerely. "But that is for another time at another place. Go on." She took a breath in and out. "I'm as ready as I can be."

"As am I..." Bucky eyeballed the chair, before he felt Steve's firm hand on his shoulder. Another breath, and he didn't look at them, just headed for it and allowed them to strap him in. Chest pounding, he swallowed down the panic as memories of the worst kind fluttered through his mind, "Nyah...leto...will you stop to let me breathe if I say that?"

"Leto." Nyah repeated and smiled as she nodded. "Yes, that will be our safeword." She gently touched his forehead. "We'll start easy okay? Nice and easy. I want you to count your breaths. Four breaths in, a pause, and four breaths out." She demonstrated. "And as you breathe out, relax your muscles. It'll help some if you close your eyes and imagine another place."

"I don't want to close my eyes." Bucky didn't want the memories and images to overwhelm him. "Just let me look at yours." He did as she instructed him otherwise. In, pause, out.

The way his eyes stared at her made her move. She breathed, following the pattern that he set. She could see him trying to memorize her face, her clothes, her hair. She could see him trying to relax, tensing here and there. She carefully moved and took his hand that was strapped and started massaging the wrist and moving upward his arm. "Keep breathing." She murmured. "I'm trying to help you relax." She gently moved her hand to his shoulder and down his chest. "You have a good energy flow. A little nervous, but it's nothing terrible. I'm going to follow your energy okay? When I become still, don't interrupt. Don't move. Don't speak unless it's to safeword out. Do you understand? Do not speak to me unless you're safewording out. You have to continue to breathe."

Bucky nodded slowly, firmly, keeping rhythm. The beginning wasn't ever the worst part. He could handle it to an extent. Trust. Faith. He had to have those in her. His soul, his heart. They had to be hers for this to work. He focused on her hands, where they trailed his arm, making his skin burn and tingle, on his shoulders and chest...so comforting. When was the last time a woman touched him intimately when it wasn't trying to cause harm?

She could feel his uncertanity and his determination wave through her like he was giving her permission and she allowed her breathing to deepen and her mind to go blissfully blank. She felt her energy swirl at her fingertips before started to follow the trail that Bucky was leading her down on. It was a crazy way of travel too. Even though he was surrendering, a part of him, a subconscious part of him, was trying to lead her away. Trying to make her spin around into a different direction. A few times she had to stop herself, pull back and take her own time out because of how often he lead her around in circles. A few times, she noticed that he kept leading her to the Throat Chakra and the Sacral Chakra. But she didn't want the surface, she wanted to go in deeper. Which meant that she would have to find another way to do it. She took another breath and went along the energy lines again, this time pushing /past/ Bucky's lead and going on her own course to something a little darker. The energy levels that were once warm were starting to turn to ice and she could feel herself shiver as she followed this line.

This line was more of a solider's watch and a sniper's scope. She could hear her energy snap, and she could hear the deafening silence surround. She could feel Bucky's energy trying desperately to try and pull her back, but the lines were protecting her and she realized...she wouldn't be able to hear Bucky's safeword, should he safeword out. The line seemed to feel a little....agitated that she was getting nervous and allowed Bucky's energy to flow in, just at tiny bit. Enough so that if she needed to back away, she could feel him pull her out. But it was clear whose territory that she was in.

This was the cold winter, the icy frozen depths. Nyah breathed deeply as she continued to follow. What came to her first, was of two children, faceless and nameless running past her in as a ghost. Laughter echoing in her head as she spun around to see where they have run off to. Once more, Bucky's energy had disappeared, and it was clear that he couldn't pull her out. All she could do now, is hope that the line would let her go should he safeword. But the ghostly children didn't end there. She saw another pair of figures sitting on a stoop, sharing what looked to be an ice cream cone. Another pair of children playing in the yard, one hitting a baseball, the other drawing.

A word came to her mouth and she held it firm as she continued to go down the pathways.

This one was of a man, clearly out of shape and sickly. Face still unseen and his body blurred in a vaporized image. He was punching, kicking, and the sound of a Russian yelling echoed through her mind. He was training, learning how to fight. It was clear that they were not happy with his progress. It was clear that to them, he wasn't moving quickly enough. Not like he used to be able to.

Another word at the tip of her tongue and she swallowed it continuing forward. This time, the image of a museum entered her mind. It wasn't so blurred, more crystal which meant it was a newer memory. Something that, even the line couldn't shake off. She held the number in her mind, but she felt the reminder, a gentle twinge to tell her that the number had to be split apart and she'd know how to do it when the time came.

The next was...just echoes of words. Words that were talking of "a dawn of a new century" and "you were the best there ever was." There was a since of pride and sicking disgust as these words were echoed around him. "You shaped a century." "You are my son, my creation." "You are my brightest pupil" and a little boy, ghostly as the rest with a smile that reminded her of the sunrise.

She felt chilled, her body turning into ice and she could feel her throat clog up and her heart beginning to spasm in her chest. She couldn't pull herself out and she knew, oh she knew that she was going to push herself to her limit here, but Bucky needed this more than her. She pushed forward, ignoring the cold thinking of heat. Two ghostly figures sleeping in the same bed, trying to warm themselves up underneath the covers. Another ghostly pair, of men this time, sharing a bedroll while a cold winter's storm raged. The feeling of coming out of ice, and into a very warm room that still chilled the skin.

She held her tongue. This was where the number she saw, was splitting itself.

The next was a sense of pride. Of a ghostly figure defending a young boy on the ground. Of a man clapping and cheering behind another who was looking surprised, skeptical, and then happy to have been the one to bring them home. She saw little girls sitting on the stairs while a big brother was talking to them animatedly and another boy just drawing, a fond smile on his face as he listened to the conversation around him. The title, Sergeant, was given in honor.

The next was strong, crystal clear memory and words that were just recently given. She could hear Wanda's voice talking to Bucky about coming back, she could hear Steve talk about the Avengers and what Tony was doing now that they were out of the picture. She could hear Kerica, defending her and her abilities and she had to stop. The line tugged at her insistently trying to get her to continue.

There was no stopping now that she was moving.

Again a number split and she remembered to place that number here in that slot. The last was of a roaring of a train, a loud scream, and Nyah could swear she felt her arm tear right off. She let out a scream, horrified and in pain. The line let her go and a thin voice, practically soundless whispered to her. "Call me out."

All of the sudden Nyah was collapsing on her knees, uncertain where she was and why she was on the cold tile floor. Her hair matted to her forhead and her breathing rugged. She could feel herself shaking, like a leaf in a horrible thunderstorm. She had to blink a few times, no one tried to come near her, and she could hear Bucky's voice though it sounded far, far away. The words tasted sour in her mouth, she knew the order and she knew what they were. "Call me out." She repeated softly, mostly to herself as she tried to sit up, her palms slick with sweat and slipping as she tried to get herself up and off of the floor. "That was...not supposed to be the result."

"You know them. You know the words." He disobeyed her orders not to speak unless it was the safeword, but he felt as weak as she looked. She'd gone so deep...he /felt/ it, it made him dizzy and he thumped his head on the back of the chair, letting out a long breath.

"Yeah." Nyah replied just as breathlessly. She felt like she ran for miles. Her body sore and aching. Her heart was doing all sort of crazy things and she knew too well that she was on the verge of getting really sick. "I don't have much time." She pushed herself up, carefully getting to her knees and then up off the floor. She nearly stumbled into the chair, grabbing onto the chair's arm. "Not enough time. Give me time." She whispered frantically to herself. "Can I use them?" She asked after a moment of gathering her bearings.

"Are you okay?" he asked in turn, brows furrowed, "Kerica. I won't hurt her if you need her to help you once you start and I...slip into that state. I don't know how I know, but I do."

"There's nothing she can do." Nyah shook her head from side to side. "You...I have to do this." She gripped onto the chair's arm, her knuckles losing color. "I have to." She bowed her head and suddenly started coughing. She was ever so thankful that she didn't taste blood. This was just the start. "Actually...wait..." She tried to push herself up, off of the chair's arm, but she found herself unable to. She wanted to scream in frustration, but now was /not/ the time. "Can she speak Russian?"

"Natasha taught me, though I got a bit rusty over the five months. Why? Do you need me to tell you the translation?" Kerica asked.

"Yes." Nyah nodded. "Actually, I need you to speak the words for me. And somehow pass command over to me."

"O-Okay," Kerica actually looked up at Steve in shock, "Are you okay with that?"

Steve's teeth clenched. It was clear something was going wrong. Nyah couldn't stand, Bucky was also in worse shape. He didn't want to toss Kerica into the fray but he promised Bucky that this was his say-so. Bucky even said that he wouldn't hurt Kerica, that he'd just slip into the state. "Yeah..." He said after a moment, though he really, really wasn't. "Help her out...please."

"Sam...Sam go, the less people who know the words the better," Kerica told him firmly, shoving him towards the door. T'Challa had left the room after telling Nyah the goings-on, so she didn't need to worry about him.

"Okay, okay, I get the hint, I'm gone. I'll get Teresa and Meara on standby, though," Sam promised, the door getting slammed in his face.

Bucky didn't like what was going on, "One more question...why? Why not stop? Why do you want to keep going? Proof?"

Nyah looked at Bucky and she smiled, thinly. "No." She said after a moment. "Because he asked me to call him out." She took a shuddering breath. "I'm going to be okay." She said, "I'm going to be okay. Besides. If Kerica doesn't know the words and I faint now, you might not get them and that'll just be awful. T'Challa might as well execute me on the spot."

"Tell me, then," Kerica knelt beside Nyah and helped her at least sit more comfortably on the floor, but still close to Bucky so she could touch him.

"Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car." Nyah coughed, hiding her face into her elbow. "And the Russian word for Soldier. Though I think I need that...so if you can tell me how to pronounce it I'll do my best."

"That's easy, it's just Soldat," Kerica assured, "Just make it throaty, if you can..." she frowned. Thee of the words she'd discovered earlier, the rest made her stomach turn. Standing, she swallowed thickly and looked at Steve, and at his nod even though he had a stern face on, she looked at Bucky, "You won't hate me, right?"

"I won't. It's okay," Bucky nodded.

"I'll stop when you say Leto, like you told Nyah," Kerica promised, before she took a deep breath and braced her feet. She tried to be as firm as she could be, "Zhelaniye." Longing. She and Bucky locked eyes, his unblinking, prepared even though he flinched. "Prorzhavevshiy." Rusted. She wrinkled her nose at that one, her throat sticking in a weird way, but she didn't butcher it and Bucky flinched again, so it struck a cord anyway. "Semnadtsat." Seventeen. Flinch, and his eyes narrowed. "Rassvet." Daybreak. Bucky /jerked/ at that one and Kerica's stomach knotted. The dawn of when he became the Soldier?

"Pech'," Furnace. Bucky closed his eyes and his face was grim, breathing out through his nose heavily. Steve tilted his head a bit, but Kerica continued, "Dyehvit." Nine. A more violent jerk and a snarl, his hands gripping the chair, the metal one causing the arm to squeak.

Steve couldn't keep watching this. He had half of the mind to tell them to stop. He had to clench his fists and keep himself still and trust. He had to /trust/ and it was hard because he swore to Bucky that Nyah would take good care of his heart and soul. If this was what "good care" meant, then he was tempted to draw it back and tell Buck he was sorry. So sorry. He shouldn't have even let this get this far.

Uck, the next two words also made her throat stick, so she them slowly, but staying firm, "Dobrokachestvennyy." Benign. A grunt and Buck's foot stomped on the floor, his head tossing back, "Vozvrashcheniye domoy." Homecoming. Kerica's jaw ticked as she clenched her teeth, and she had to cover her own mouth, feeling like she was going to throw up. What she Read in his Soul made her head spin. Buck didn't have to say Leto.

"Odin." One. The chair scraped on the ground, the arm squeaking more. Bucky gnashed his teeth and tossed his head again.

Looking at Steve, she mouthed 'I'm sorry' before she said the last phrase. This one would hurt him the most, that this was the end to the sequence. "Gruzovoy avtomobil'." Freight Car. It would be different if she didn't have to say it, if she didn't have to be in front of Bucky /Reading/ his /Soul/ like she had been before. The way Bucky stopped squirming and slumped in the chair made her so close to vomiting all over the floor. As it was, she just backed against the wall and used it as support to slide down to the ground.

Nyah could feel the tension in the air, could feel how this was tearing apart everyone who was watching this. Kerica who was practically keeling over and Steve who looked like he was about to bash someone's face in. Now it was her turn, as she listened to Bucky's soft breath. She barely could hear it and she pushed herself up. She scowled her knees to stay firm as she stood before him. She forced herself to look at him and gently bring her hands to her heart, prayer, before offering them to him, "Soldat. Hello."

Kerica glanced towards Steve and could see his fists clench as Buck...the Winter Soldier...raised his head and in perfect Russian replied...

"Gotov vypolnit'." Ready to comply.

Kerica half expected Steve to punch the wall.

Steve nearly did punch the wall, but held himself in check. Last thing he needed was to startle the Solider into thinking they were enemies again.

"No. No mission this time, Kleich." Nyah said soothingly as she reached out and touched his hand. He flinched from her touch, but she kept it steady. She watched him and then blinked. Just faintly, she could hear a beat of a drum that was starting to be learned how to play. It was unpracticed, but there was a beat. The Solider wasn't supposed to have a song, but his eyes met hers...and he was playing her a song.

The Soldier's brows furrowed at her, and something that didn't happen very often at all, he spoke. The Winter Soldier actually /spoke/. "Lyuboznatel'nyy..."

"Uh..." Kerica wracked her brain, "Curious. That meant curious." She froze when he snapped his eyes to her, and she flew the words out, "Perevedite! YA perevodchik!"

Arching a brow at her, he simply snorted and returned his gaze to Nyah.

"I told him I was a translator," Kerica let out a relieved sigh.

Nyah wasn't certain what to say now that she had him with her. Just a simple drum beat and her own inability to make her mouth move. She was also dizzy. Which didn't help much. "You told me you wanted me to call you out."

"Ekzoticheskiy..." he paused, "Ochevidets..." a shake of his head, and then.../amusement/? "Nastoychivyy."

"Vy flirtuyet s ney?" Kerica asked, her voice dumbfounded.

A low, deep hum, "YA mogu byt'. Assasin? Net, net ugrozy."

"Devil tongue. All of it devil tongue." Nyah looked between the two of them, raising her eyebrows. "Anyone going to include me in this conversation?"

Kerica coughed, her face hot, and she stood up, straightening herself, "He called you exotic and then beholder. Followed by /persistent/. I asked him if he was flirting with you and the shitlord said 'i might be'."

"Gryaznyy yazyk. YA mogu vas ponyat'," Dirty tongue. I can understand you. Soldier grumbled.

"Good." She told him.

"I'm supposing there's no way to speak English so I can /at least/ talk back?" Nyah shook her head from side to side sighing loudly. "Considering that was all in English."

Steve was /not/ sure how to take any of this. The Winter Solider, openly flirting with Nyah? What? He looked over at the windows, wondering what his friends were thinking of this. Surely they heard what was going on. He really, really hoped for Nyah's sake that the Winter Solider wasn't trying to lead Nyah on. It would've been a specialty.

"He can understand you just fine," Kerica promised, then looked at Buck. She felt fine now. With the banter she wasn't as horrified as she was before, "Can you speak English for us?"

"Yesli ona komanduyet yego." If she commands it.

"You have to tell him to speak English, you do control him," Kerica explained.

Nyah wanted to bang her head on the arm of the chair. Why didn't she think of that? "Soldat. English. I can't understand that tongue and it's driving me crazy with Kerica-no offense- trying to translate."

"It was amusing. Kerica is not afraid of me," Soldier replied simply, his voice a lot rougher and deeper than when he talked normally as Bucky, "I like that. You are not afraid, either."

"I think my fear has run out of minutes." Nyah sighed as she rubbed her head. "You told me that you wanted to be called out." She could feel her body stiffen when he spoke, rough and cold. The drum was starting to pick up hints of a melody, but it was clear that he was still practicing. It made her swallow thickly. She wasn't certain where to place herself in this. The Solider clearly wasn't singing for /anyone/ else and even when he looked at Kerica or even glanced at Steve, the drum only faltered just enough to make him pick it back up stronger.

"You confused me. I do not understand why you would seek me and the passcodes if there was no mission," Soldier responded, "I speak simpler in Russian, but not everything I am able to get across. I did say persistence as well."

"That was curious before, you were curious about Nyah?" Kerica tilted her head.

"Yes," he nodded.

"And beautiful and the beholder." Nyah repeated his gentle lines, but there was no anger or resentment, but fun little teasing. "I'm a Soul-Healer." She said after a moment. She reached up and touched his chest. His energy calmer, like a river stream. "I heal Souls, cracks and fission. I try to bring people whole, or at least some semblance of it."

"I am...broken?" Soldier sounded confused, "Hydra beat me down and brought me up again so I would not be."

Nyah wasn't sure where to go with this. She let her touch fall from his chest and she looked at him, curiously. "No, you're not broken." She said after a moment. "You're starting to play a song. It's something you're learning. Though I'm not sure why you decided to start now." She touched his hand. "The soul is a delicate matter. You are the two sides of the same coin. You're not a personality. You are the protective subconscious. You /were/ broken a long time ago, but...well...I think Steve and Kerica are a little ahead of their times."

Soldier was quiet as he tried to think about her words. Yet the harder he tried the more confused he became, "I do not understand what you are saying? A song? Who is the other side?"

Nyah could see why the Solider didn't know his other side. Wiped, tortured, forgotten memories that he held shreds on but didn't know the meaning of. The song part was her fault. "Sorry. I just...I can hear your soul begin to play a song. It's the first song you've played since you were created. As for the other side, does the name...James Buchanan Barnes....mean anything to you? Bucky perse?"

"Captain America, during my mission to kill him, mentioned a Bucky...I don't know him," Soldier shook his head.

"That's alright." Nyah said softly. "Do you want to know about him, or would you rather leave it alone? To be honest, Solider, this is your time to ask questions."

"I saw you...wandering through memories that were blurred like foggy, frosted glass in the winter," Soldier said slowly, "I recognized them as my memories, yet they were not my memories. The blurry boy drawing always intrigues me..." a gasp behind him, but in his restraints he couldn't look behind him. "Are those Bucky's memories?"

"I would believe so. Fragments of what he held dear and what were used as pass codes." Nyah agreed after a moment. "Let me see if I can put it this way. Bucky currently is acting like a photo album. He remembers everything you did while you were killing and learning how to kill. However, in the process of remembering and trying to climb out, both of you lost things that were important. Bucky's recovering those memories, but apparently....not you. You more or less remember all of the missions that you were on, am I wrong?"

"I remember all of them," Soldier felt like he had said those words before, "This tells me this Bucky is a real person. I was not aware he was me. All I was ever told was to focus on my mission. I was never asked to talk."

"I will not command you. You're free to talk and ask questions here." Nyah said firmly. "Kliech, as long as you will it...you're safe here. My mission, my goal, is to make it so that you are. The pass codes are dangerous, it can allow anyone who knows them to get in. I have a few ideas. Perhaps modifying them would be the best route, but what I really would like to happen...and perhaps it's my own dream...is to see if you and Bucky will work in harmony and you can resist the pass codes call."

"I would have to hear Bucky first in order to work alongside him," Solder furrowed his brows at her, "You say it is your mission to make me feel safe, yet is it not I that should have the mission to keep you that way?"

"I don't think you have to bother with my safety." Nyah said after a moment of being taken aback, uncertain if that was his siren's call or if it was just his protective side kicking into gear. "I can help you hear him when you're ready to." She took a breath and had to close her eyes as she felt her knees buckle underneath her weight. She was surprised she lasted so long standing up. "I have to sit down. I'm sorry." She said as she sunk herself down, her heart was pumping too fast and she was starting to have trouble seeing. She closed her eyes again and continued talking. "Though if you want to share the protect order, we can do that. Speaking of protect order. There is someone here who knows Bucky Barnes. You know him as Captain America, but I know him as Steve Rogers. I know you were ordered to kill on sight, but...I want you to ignore that order. He's an ally now."

"So that is whom was behind me..." Solider muttered, "I thought his energy was familiar." He watched Kerica disappear, leading Steve cautiously into his field of vision, their hands intertwined. His body tensed and jerked, but he closed his eyes and breathed, "Just don't come too close...Captain. The orders...they are like a fly in summer that refuses to go away or die. Constantly buzzing in my mind when I see you. Repeated over and over. They told me to kill you many times over the years." He opened his eyes to stare at Steve, who stared right back. He looked...dumbstruck, and his eyes were a bit unfocused, like he was seeing something else, or his mind was going too fast for his face to keep up. "If Nyah, my new Commander, tells me you are no threat then I will attempt not to see you as one."

"I don't think she's/I'm that good of a Commander." Steve and Nyah said together at the same time. Nyah with a laughing tone in her voice despite that she was on the ground and trying to hold herself together, and Steve with a bit of weariness. They both looked at each other and Steve frowned at her. "Are you sure you're-?"

She waved him off. "I think, I think I'll be okay. Minor panic attack. It comes and goes." At least she wasn't dying, but she was pretty certain that when this was all over Teresa was going to put her on bed rest and never let her see the light of day for about a week if not more. She waved at him. "I'm not here."

Steve nodded and turned towards Bucky. No. The Solider. Eyes grim, face set, and a smirk playing at the lips. He knew very well what type of person the Solider was, fighting with him time and time again. Single-minded was what made him deadly. However, he was going to have to put in a lot of faith that Nyah being the new "Commander" or even "handler", was going to be enough. He wasn't sure of what question to ask first. "You don't know whose on the other side?" Was the only thing that he could come up with. "Then how do you...appear. Just the pass codes?"

"The passcodes," Soldier agreed, "Though I know there are a few words before it, they allude me. I always hear 'daybreak' first and know I'm being called. Before that I feel like I am sleeping a very long time. Often it is in a cold place. I know I am not liked, and I don't ask to be, I just sometime wish the dark was quieter."

"I think Nyah likes you." Was the only quip that Steve could come up with. So daybreak was what really brought the Solider home. He looked down at his feet, trying to come up with something. Anything. Here was his chance, and he felt like he was losing Bucky all over again. He looked over at Nyah who was leaning against the chair, her head subtly pressing into the Solider's knee. He looked back at the Solider. "Are your pass codes well known in Hydra?"

"A red book...they kept it in a red book with a black star, and only one Commander ever used it. Until...that scrawny man back in America," Soldier scowled, "At least the Hydra Commander had balls. I didn't like the scrawny one. Sleazy, that is the word I would use."

That could be any number of people, but it made Steve fear about that damn red book. "We'll have to do something about the passcodes then, so Hydra doesn't get you back." He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of something, anything. "I don't want to hurt you."

"That would be advisable, because I don't /want/ to hurt you, either. I was always told to, not that I had anything against you in particular. The mission is my objective and I understand that. I did not understand why they hated you so much," Soldier shrugged, though it was small since his arms were held down.

"I think it's because I can't stay down from a fight." Steve admitted as he looked at the Solider for the longest time. He remembered how Bucky didn't want to fight. How he was drafted into the war, and again when he was asked to continue going with him through Alanzo. He forced his best friend to fight, not even knowing that he was putting him through so much pain. The Solider clearly had those traits. An unwillingness to hurt, but if it was the mission then so be it. "How would we fix the pass codes? I refuse to do it by conditioning."

"To be honest, Captain, that is a question I do not have the answer for. I never had to think about it before. There may be a way, there may not be. Yet I feel as though the bigger issue here is getting me to sense and feel and hear your Bucky. The passcodes can come later, I am not too worried about them, if the one calling me does not have any orders for me that would harm someone. That is what you are worried about the most," he glanced down at Nyah, and twisted his flesh hand in his restraint so he could catch a braid close to his fingers and toyed with it, marveling at the bright beads, "I do believe there will be a next time...but so long as you keep those who wish harm away from me, you do not have to fear me. It would be nice, perhaps later down the line, to be called in a place that is not so dark and confiding. I always wake up this way, it has become the norm for me. That does not mean I like it, and no one has ever asked what I would /like/ before."

Kerica squeezed Steve's hand, having not let go of it, and looked up at him, "If you want me to, I can write the words down for you, and you can burn the paper when you memorize them."

"I think next time I'll tell Bucky that we won't restrain you." Nyah was a little surprised at the soft touch to the braids and got herself up. Steve looked over at Kerica and wordlessly nodded his agreement. "We can come up with something. Have you wake up somewhere nicer. I think the pass codes are a little less worrisome. If there is a book, there's a book. I think the only thing we can do is associate you with us." /With me/ but she wasn't about to say that. The Solider, ultimately, didn't belong to anyone.

"If I can come and go at will, knowing Bucky is there, then that would be a vast improvement..." Soldier suddenly thunked his head on the chair, letting out a huff and furrowed his brows, his chest heaving up and down like he was having trouble breathing, "We are...all weak here. Nyah...Mm...Handler, if you don't like being called Commander...I know I will go back to the dark and cold to sleep if you wish me away, telling me my mission is done. You said there is no mission, but I think the mission really was to help you understand. I have done that, have I not?"

Nyah felt her chest hurt. She felt bad that she was going to do this and she looked at Steve. Steve nodded, his eyes hooded as he looked away, still holding on to Kerica's hand tightly. "Alright." She said after a moment and she cupped his cheek with her hand. "Nyah. Call me Nyah. I'm a friend to you Solider. That being said, the mission's done and over with. It's okay to go to sleep now. We'll call you again, I promise. Somewhere less dark and less cold."

"Nyah..." he murmured, softer, deeper, as he stared into her eyes. He felt his body stiffen, but the warm chocolate kept him calm, and he slumped forward when the darkness surrounded him again, his mission completed.

A moment later, Bucky groaned and leaned back, looking absolutely exhausted and he blinked his foggy eyes, "My head feels like it's going to explode. I need painkillers."

"You're back!" Kerica was relieved, and she let go of Steve so she could jump forward and started to undo the restraints, "You did great, Buck."

"Everyone's safe?" Bucky asked, voice ragged and he swallowed thickly. When he could move his flesh hand again he stretched it out and flexed it, grunting at the sore skin and muscles for being in that position for so long.

"I'm getting you out of those restraints." Steve said quickly as he immediately moved forward to undo the handwork and get Bucky out of the chair, along with Kerica's help. Nyah moved away, but it was sluggish. "You did real good, Buck. Real good. We got a lot of information-" he heard something thump behind him and he turned around swiftly to see that Nyah was on the ground, her nose bleeding and gasping for breath. Before anyone could do anything, the doors barged open and Teresa, along with Marea, were already on the scene.

"Nyah!" Buck cried out, tugging his metal arm's restraints until Steve was able to undo the last bolt, and his knees skidded on the tile as he scooped Nyah up, Teresa taking Nyah's wrist to check her pulse and Meara cleaning away the blood on her nose and shining a flashlight in her eyes, "What's going on?!" he asked, cradling her head to his chest. Did he do something? Was he that damaged that he didn't have to hurt her physically, but he could hurt her with his soul? His stomach twisted harshly and he probably looked a bit green around the edges.

Teresa looked at Bucky, a little surprised that he was there and worried. She had half-expected the Solider, for some reason even if he was asleep. "Not you." She said quickly. "It's not you. Talk to me later about it." She turned to Marea. "She needs hospital. Her heartbeat's slowing. Too much adrenaline. Help me pick her up and we need to get her out of here. Now."

"I'll carry her!" Bucky told them firmly, and promptly did so, scrambling to his feet with her safely tucked against his chest. He wobbled a bit on his feet, not realizing just how /drained/ he was, his head spinning with dizziness and his vision split for a second, but he closed one eye and steeled himself, "You can take the compound off lockdown, I'm okay. Let's go."

"Alright, it'll be alright," Meara soothed them, and he nodded at Teresa, "You know how to take care of her the most, so just lead me through it," he told her and the three of them headed out of the room.

Kerica let out a rush of breath when they were left alone and looked at Steve, "How about that paper?"

~*~

"Tell me, tell me what's wrong with her," Bucky pleaded with Teresa about an hour later when Nyah was stable and in her room resting. They were sitting in the office Teresa had taken for herself, and he was pacing back and forth, "She pushed herself for me, and I have no idea what's wrong. She spoke about something in her song, I didn't understand it but they're connected somehow. We should've stopped while we were ahead. There can always be 'later' it's not like the world will burn if I go another day like I am."

Teresa had sat down heavily in her chair, watching Bucky pace wearily. It was a bit surprising to her that Bucky was affected so strongly. When Steve and Kerica had watched them leave, Teresa could feel that they were both questioning it. She was questioning it too. It wasn't a secret that Nyah was in love with Bucky, and now the Solider, but the Solider responded to Nyah. Could it be that since the Solider responded, Bucky was feeling it? She didn't know. "James." She snapped after a moment of watching him pace. "Sit down, deep breaths. I'll...tell you everything." She sighed, bowing her head. "Though I will tell you this ahead of time, Nyah doesn't do "later"."

"Yeah, I got that. She got overwhelmed because of it," he frowned deeply. Turning to her, he did as she asked and sat down, "You say its not my fault, but I put a lot of strain on her. She was weak just after doing one thing, I saw it, felt it, but she just kept going and she told me to trust her so I let her continue."

"It's not you." Teresa repeated. She scooted her chair forward, hands clasped in her lap. She thought about how to say this. Really thought about it. Once she got her words in the right order, she began. "And it's not one thing. Anyone else who tried to do that, Bucky, would be in a coma right about now. They would be beyond shattered because of how much pain and torment your soul went through. The Elder gave you Nyah not because she's the best. But because Nyah is on the brink of life and death and therefore is able to go further with the soul healing than anyone."

Bucky's eyes widened and Teresa decided to continue. "Nyah has a small heart, Bucky. A good sized, but a small weak heart. When I was her doctor before I was her mother, I used to try everything I could to double it in size. That included steroids and other herbal medicines that could stimulate the same thing. I watched her have heart attack after heart attack, seizures at times. I watched her howl in pain because she couldn't breathe and her poor little heart just overworked itself trying to pump blood. I know this story sounds familiar to you. I know that Steve had the same issues with his asthma and hearing and all sorts."

Tersea looked down at her hands and unclasped them. "Nyah called you her last patient, not because she's jinxing this. It's because she's aware that you can very well be her last. She pushed for those words so that if she died at that moment, Kerica had them and would be able to do what she could with the information. She told me that her soul believes you to be her soulmate in love. I can see that. Nyah loves fiercely, with everything she has and more, but you...you gave her a different kind of love. For the first time, her soul /sang/ and little by little, you're becoming her accompaniment. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting the Solider to take her in as well as he did. My belief is that he sees her as something special. Something to marvel at. And before you try, Nyah is your only hope. Nyah is the one the Solider needs and you. If she dies in the process, she dies happy. She dies doing the thing that she wanted to do."

They had to have a way to keep her alive. She was in their world now, and once you stepped into the Avengers, there was no going back. He would fight for her, and if they had to go days or weeks at a time, then they would. "I think she laced her energy with mine when she went so deep, but whatever it was, I heard her singing. Its pretty. I understand what she means. I told her to slow down, but if it is going to be this way, then I will try. Perhaps if we become linked strongly enough, she can rely on me for support."

Teresa smiled warmly, "I always knew you were the good sort, Bucky. She does lace her energy with others in order to go in deep." She mused. "I do recall her telling me that." She watched Bucky for a moment before softening her expression. From dealing with Steve since he was young, it was no surprise that Bucky would step back into the role of caregiver again. "I'm glad that I didn't scare you off, that you're still willing to be her soulmate."

"It does scare me, because I haven't loved anyone but Steve and my family before. For over seventy years I didn't let anyone get close to me, because of Hydra, because of everything I went through and any woman was someone who could kill me just as well," Bucky shook his head, "I am going to push through my fear, however. That is the point of all of this, to push through and persevere, or I won't get better. I know I'll be rewarded in the end." He stood up and ran his hand through his hair, "Do you think it would be okay if I went to visit her? Or should I stay away for a little while to give her breathing room?"

"I think she'd love it if you visited her." Teresa said with a smile. "She may or may not be able to communicate very well depending on how she's feeling, but she'd love to hear your voice. I'm sure she's worried about scaring you, so it'll kill two birds with one stone if you go see her."

"Okay...okay...thank you, I will go do that then," Bucky gave her a polite nod, "I appreciate the information. It puts a few pieces in place." He smiled and turned around, heading to his new destination.

~*~

He wasn't surprised her door was open, as Teresa would have to come check on her. His eyes softened as he saw her sprawled out on her bet, chest rising and falling rhythmically to signal she was asleep, her hair spread out around her. Closing the door silently and moving further inside, he spotted the bead bowl on her dresser. When he grabbed it and turned back to her, she had rolled onto her side and was gripping her pillow. She was so lovely like that. A thought crossed his mind, and a smile danced on his lips. Slowly, he kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged and the bead bowl in his lap. She hadn't woken, and he was glad. Reaching out, he took one braid in his hand and started unraveling it, placing the beads in the bowl as he went, enjoying the soft strands of her honey-gold hair through his fingers. He'd had quite a few undone when he realized he was humming to himself, and recognized it as her song. He didn't stop, finding it a comfort.

Nyah woke up, slowly opening and closing her eyes. She could feel a heavy weight on her bed and could hear soft humming. The man who was singing had a gorgeous voice, though she could tell that he hadn't used it for anything like a melody in quite some time. The roughness only heightened the sweetness and she smiled as she felt another braid come undone and she could feel his fingers brush through the strands, gentle and ever so careful so he wouldn't pull. The silence, besides the humming, was a comfort. She could fall back to sleep to it easily but she didn't want to. Another braid undone, another clinks of beads in the bowl and she couldn't get rid of the smile on her face. "I wasn't expecting to be woken up like this." She said softly, unwilling to disturb the peace. "You have a beautiful voice."

A startled laugh and Bucky felt his face heat up, "Were you pretending to be asleep?" he asked, but didn't stop his ministrations, "I suppose it's a good, thing, though, so I could finish getting the ones on the other side." He cleared his throat a bit, "The song...it's your song. I find it really soothing with a good rhythm."

"Not pretending, I was." Nyah hummed as she turned lazily so that he could get the other side. His skin, she realized, was calloused and gentle. His hands, though huge, were so fragile and delicate. Like he knew his own strength could crush someone like her. "I'm glad you could hear my song." She said after a moment. "You're starting to play a tune too. Guitar. Acoustic. Did you play before?"

"Yes, I did," Bucky was surprised, "I'm not sure if I could play it anymore. I stopped when I was in the army, and of course my skills were put to a different use. It would be fun to try, though, get back into it. Steve would be happy."

Nyah hummed softly as she lifted herself up just a bit so that she could let her head fall into his lap and climbed up a little to get a little more comfortable. The sheets were pushed and tangled now and she was clearly no longer all the way on the bed, now lying at an angle. She didn't care as she rested her cheek against his thigh, her eyes closed and her breathing still soft. "Listening to you play would be a treat." She said, her voice peaceful. "I am sorry for scaring you."

"Teresa explained to me about your heart and why you were so determined," Bucky said gently, "We will wait however long it takes for Teresa say you're okay before we do anything more. If that takes a week, then it takes a week. You're not going to die tomorrow. I won't let you, anyway. If Steve survived with a bad heart, then so can you. We're a lot more advanced and you stepped foot among our group, so now you can't leave even if you wanted to."

Nyah was a little surprised. Not at the wait, she had a feeling that she would be off the case for a while. But at the invitation. She was apart of something other than her tribe. Something bigger than it. She let her hand find his and squeezed it, her fingers curling weakly since she didn't have a lot of strength. "I don't plan on dying." She said after a moment. "Not when I found you, Kliech." She let his hand go and she turned herself over on her back, so she could stare up at him. His blue eyes reminded her of ocean waves, calmly going back and forth in a tide. "I never thought I'd meet my soulmate. Especially a white male." Her lips curved in a teasing smile.

"You just wouldn't fit in my life if you were normal, either," Bucky playfully poked her nose, "Steve and I have a sort of motto. If it's not reckless or strange it's just not our style."

"And which am I? Reckless or strange?" Nyah asked, grinning at the poke and she gently poked his cheek back before cradling it in her hand.

"Both. Definitely both," Buck nodded with a chuckle, "So...while you heal up, let's take the time to get to know each other? Mundane things, deep meaningful, personal things...I would like to understand your culture, so I can follow along when you make your gestures. The more you know about me, too, the more you'll figure things out to better help me. Right?"

Nyah smiled warmly. "I would like that." She let her hand go from his cheek. "I'd be bored otherwise. I'm a terrible bed-rest patient." She watched him for a moment and smiled softly. "Will you tell me something?" Before he could ask what it was, Nyah pressed on. "Where do you get "Bucky" from? I've been trying to figure it out, but you do not have an overbite and I don't see anything that would make you look like one."

"My middle name, really. Buchanan is a bit of a mouthful and I couldn't really pronounce it as a kid, and after Steve and I became friends, he couldn't either and he's the one who gave it to me. That was that. Bucky from then on out," he grinned.

Nyah wanted to groan. So many names. Teresa had two. Bucky had three, four, five. She rubbed her forehead. Really, what kind of custom was that? "Three names?" She asked after a moment. "What's the use of having /three/? Two, I get kind of. One of them changes when you marry. Teresa told me that, but...don't you ever get confused on which name to use?"

"The the two-three name custom is older than time itself, I swear, so I'm not the best person to ask," Buck laughed at her dismay, "Nyah Barnes doesn't sound too bad, though, if you can get used to the two-name idea at least." If she was his soulmate, thinking of her in an intimate way like that would help kick him in the balls to get in gear. Honestly, it sounded better out loud than in his head.

Nyah mouthed the words together. She never had a last name. Never had a temporary name. She looked at him curiously. "I thought there was a ceremony you had to go through in order to take a name? I think Teresa called it a...um...wedding?" The word felt strange on her tongue. "Marriage?"

"There's different ways to get married. I've head of handfasting, which might be more your style than a traditional one. I'd feel wrong going into a church anyhow. There's also an 'eloping' where you can get the paperwork and stuff without it being hyped up," Buck shrugged, "The getting to know you part is the courting, to see if we're compatible in a living situation and some people wait five years before getting married, or even as short as six months Shorter, even, but those are the /really/ rocky marriages that separate after a year or so."

"Courting I understand." Nyah smiled. "Even we do find our soulmates there are times where it's hard to come together as a family. I never been in a church, so I think I wouldn't feel comfortable bonding there. Handfasting...I heard of that too. It has similar things that we do." She laughed suddenly. "Eloping sounds like a less hassle, but it also sounds more like a business transaction as well."

"Kind of, and impersonal, rushed," Buck agreed, "Sometimes people in arranged marriages elope just to get out of it. Eh, anyway, I'm sure we'll be okay no matter what we do. You see my soul and love it, even if it's damaged. That to me tells me you're a keeper. We're bound to have fights, everyone has fights, but we will be able to get over it and move on because we understand each other."

Nyah watched him for the longest time and she gently brought one of his hands to mouth to give it a light kiss. "Fights yes." She said softly. "You and the Solider have a beautiful soul. I see your struggles to fight for what's right, to find peace within yourself. Neither one of you were meant for a fight. You were meant to protect." She let his hand go. "He doesn't know you exist."

Bucky blinked at her. "This is the first I've heard about what even happened while I was under," he frowned, "I can see, but I can't hear, when I'm in that state. I know my mouth moved, but I don't know what I said. How can I know that part of me is there when I'm like this, but I don't know when I'm like that?"

"The Solider is a subconscious. Not a personality." Nyah explained softly. "The Solider has no reason to know you. Not necessarily. He was made to follow missions, and you were a person that was in his way. The pass codes are memories you hold near and dear, memories that the Solider erased. When the subconscious and the conscious flipped, a lot of memories were destroyed for the Solider needed to know every mission, therefore memories that weren't helpful to him in any sense of the word were tossed. Erased. He knew only vaguely that he was using your body, and he knows of the memories, but he didn't know there was a person behind it all."

"Everyone else...separates them, but I think that it's just me," Bucky's brows were furrowed so deeply the skin between them folded, "Do you...know why? Should I really start separating them, too?" So that was why it was harder to remember some things, and easier in others. He...the Soldier thought that they weren't necessary, even if he held them dear.

"I think it depends on what you want." Nyah slowly got herself up into a sitting position. She nearly lurched forward, and had to grab Bucky's shoulder to steady herself so she could look him in the eye. "You could separate yourself from him, but that would make things easier for Hydra to take control of you. After all, they are looking for the Solider, not Bucky Barnes." Nyah had to pause for a moment, the name sounded...nice on her tongue. Maybe there really was a reason for two part names. "But the Solider thinks, and I agree with this, that you and him need to somehow come together. The pass codes are less of a worry."

"That seems to be something that needs to be accomplished on his end. I've tried to break the glass many times, but maybe it's weaker on the other side. If he can find me, reach me, I'll take his hand," he found himself startled by that. All this time he hated that side of himself, but maybe it was time to stop hating and start understanding. "This is a trial of me taking a lot of different people's hands, and I know deep down I'll come out of it a lot stronger. I need to associate the codes with good things, too. They freak me out because every time they echo in my head I do something bad. This last time I didn't, and that is such a huge relief I don't know how to explain it in words. Maybe...if Steve's comfortable after a couple tries normally, I'd like him to say them."

"I think Steve and I can do that." Nyah said with a smile. "And I think, that both sides of the glass is stronger when the other one is more apparent. That being said," she flopped down back to the bed, wincing a little since her body was still sore and she shouldn't have tried to get up. "I think you're on the right track. I think that your soul is repairing itself. Little by little the longer you're away from Hydra and out of Cryofreeze." She made a face before letting it disappear. "Though I'm sure nightmares are still going to be common regardless."

"That is why they are nightmares. I wouldn't be surprised," Bucky nodded, "I had plenty during my two years of solitude in hiding away from everyone and everything. Last night was a good night. Oh! Damn it, speaking of, I need to do something for Steve. I forgot about it, I was too excited and then shit got real," he leaned down and kissed her forehead, "I am finished with your hair, anyhow. We can talk more later. You need to rest."

"Go." Nyah laughed as she closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation of his lips against her forehead and she looked up at him, adoringly. His song was filled with happiness and she was so incredibly happy to have heard his version for her. "Tell Steve that I'm going to make him jealous." She tried to half-heartedly shove him away from her bed. "Come see me tomorrow...and bring questions. I'm going to be stuck indoors and I will be pestering you with my own. Take care of yourself, Kliech."

"Right back at you...prekrasnyy," he winked at her as he paused at her door, enjoying her confused look as he ran away with a laugh.

"Crazy Russian!" She shouted after him.

()

It was about two days later when Bucky came into Steve's room and plopped the flashdrive on his lap, a frown on his face, "Your girlfriend has a voyeur fetish."

Steve's attention was torn from his book to watch the flashdrive fall into his lap. He stared at it from a moment before the rest of the line caught up with him and he looked at Bucky, "What?"

"I quote this. “There I go again, Bucky, hoping against hope someone was listening to my ranting." End quote. That was the last thing she said before curling up next to my cryo chamber and the surveillance ended. She /wanted/ to be heard." Buck clarified, "I even asked Meara to confirm something I thought of while listening, and he was really confused and even a little upset, but he confirmed she has Depression and Anxiety issues and used to take medication but she doesn't anymore. Did you have any idea?"

"I knew about her depression, but not anxiety." He said carefully as he picked up the flash drive from his lap. "I know that she has low-self esteem issues. To a very, very critical degree." Steve recognized that at the very least considering his self-esteem issues only made him want to bite the next person that called him small and weak. Which explained the multitude of fights in back alleyways.

"Dude, it's bad. I understand now why she kept looking at me like she was. I echoed some words and lines she said to me. You aren't supposed to dream in Cryo, but I think I did. I vaguely remember a little brunette and you talking to me," Buck said slowly, "Nyah did say she and I are soulmates of a different sort. I recognize it. I think you two projected and felt so strongly that I could feel it in my subconscious."

Steve was thoughtful. He still didn't want to listen to the flashdrive, more or less because he feared it was her private thoughts. However, he trusted Bucky. If Bucky thought that he should listen to the flash drive, then he really should listen to it. He didn't know what to say to any of this...really.

"There were points where she cut off and there's only so much I can read and guess. It /bothers/ me," Bucky scowled, "I feel like I should talk to her and get her to spill, but there hasn't been a whole lot of interaction with us since she said the code. I saw her training with Clint yesterday, Scott the day before that. I like how she moves. Perhaps if I got to know her that way, I'd feel comfortable doing something else. Though, I really don't want to do what I want to do without your okay."

"But she's /your/ girl and...my idea might make you uncomfortable. Let's...let's see how training and bonding goes first and I'll tell you a little more about it. You might see where I'm going with it by the end of the week," Buck shifted, "I haven't told you this before, but I know why Nyah thought she was my soulmate. While everyone is reaching their hands out to me, when I looked at her after the end of Nyah's song, I saw how scared she was and I knew she was walking my dark song path, and I need to reach my hand out to her in turn."

"Of course." Steve frowned a little, but he didn't try to pressure Bucky into anything. If he could get along with Kerica, it would be more than fantastic really. He still felt bad, still felt worried about what Bucky was planning to do, but "Again, it's trust." he told him sincerely. "I don't think you'd do anything to hurt me or Kerica. But take your time, Buck. Bond, train..."

"Okay. Good," Buck nodded, "It's not time to watch that yet. So, don't worry about it," he nodded, "I know you think it's a violation of her privacy. That's just like you. It is important, though." He shrugged, "I'll leave you to your book." With that, he turned and left.

~*~

There was a soft knock on Nyah's door and when she was given the okay, Kerica peeked her head in, "Hello! A certain birdy told me you were bored, and Teresa wasn't giving you permission to leave yet. You also told me before you wanted to talk to me?"

Nyah looked up from her writing and smiled warmly. Her color was coming back to her cheeks, but it was clear that she looked bad. She wasn't in any shape to get up, even if she wanted to. "Come in." She gestured Kerica further into her room. "I'm sorry for not greeting you properly /and/ that it's in a sick room."

"You're fine! Not a problem at all," Kerica assured her quickly, pulling up a seat beside her, "Are you feeling better at all, though? It has been a couple days, anyway."

"I'm feeling a lot better. Bucky comes by to visit very once in a while though I noticed that he's off in his own world. Trying to fix things." Nyah shook her head from side to side. "A protector to the core and Steve's for that matter is a full time job. I suppose maybe I should have retracted my statement of "making Steve jealous", but...well..." She shrugged helplessly. "How about you? Has anything happened since I'm stuck here?"

"I've been trying to teach Steve how to speak the words in Russian. He has the words themselves memorized, he's just getting the Russian pronunciation all askew. His frustrated face is cute, even if it is a serious situation," her smiled did fade, "He refuses to learn the last phrase until he's got the rest down."

"The long fall and the failure." Nyah sighed as she leaned back into the pillows. "His guilt is as powerful as his passion and his fire to fight." She traced a random pattern on the bedsheets, sighing to herself. "I wonder who holds the most guilt...it's not a fair contest, but I can't help but to wonder it." She looked at Kerica curiously. "But to be honest, I have a question for you about soul-reading."

"I was curious to know what you read in me." Nyah's smile was thin. "If it wasn't rude of me to ask."

Kerica blinked at her in shock, jade eyes becoming curious and she settled deeply into her chair, humming, as she put her hand over her mouth thoughtfully, her other arm crossing her waist, "I haven't known you long, so it's not a very detailed read, so do not be disappointed. Reading Bucky is like knowing the back of my hand." She explained slowly, "You are...not like everyone else. You have no regrets. Your soul is the brightest and purest. You fight, you live, you're proud for every day you see. Yet you don't worry as much anymore, it's lessened considerably since I first laid eyes on you. Bucky has to do with that, doesn't he?"

Nyah's smile was gentle, wide. "I used to worry a lot?" She questioned. "It's funny you say that, I didn't notice that I was." She nodded her head a few times. "He's been good to me. He has a nice, beautiful song that matches with my lyrics. Of course, he likes to toss me in different directions with the beat. To see if I can keep up. Your song...is vastly different from everyone else. It is very subtle. Soft, and easily unheard though you can make it heard very easily."

"I can?" she tilted her head, "I cannot hear the songs that you do, so I am confused on what you mean. I am aware I'm quiet, but I don't know how to be noticed."

"More often than not, those who can read cannot read themselves. I can read you just fine, but I had to have you see me in order to tell me if I was changing, if I was going somewhere with my life. It's the same thing." Nyah explained. "You can't read yourself, so you have to let someone else read, just to get you a head start."

"Oh! I understand!" Kerica perked, "That makes sense. My father can read me but he can't help me and visa-versa." She sat up a bit straighter, "You have changed a lot since that first day, yet at the same time not all that much. You didn't have something to live and fight for before, you were just going through the motions, but now you do and while you're not changing your actions, you are aware that you can't just throw caution to the wind because he would be upset."

Nyah closed her eyes, smiling brightly. "I got lucky." She opened her eyes and turned to Kerica. "I never thought that I'd find my soulmate. Never. I heard everyone else's songs, watch them dance and duet. Teresa may be my soulmate in one way, but a romantic one...a Kliesambinalah...I never thought I'd get." She nodded her head. "Now that I have one...I do feel more empowered to do right." She looked at Kerica. "But your face tells me something that you want to know. About your own Kliesambinalah."

"Yes, I do, if you wouldn't mind? You and Bucky are the most adorable, when you come out to have dinner with us. I enjoy listening to you talk now, it's a lot more animated on his end and you're quite lively," Kerica smiled tenderly.

"Ask away. As Teresa clearly stated as well as that bird you were talking about, I'm lonely and bored and I love these conversations." Nyah smiled as she shifted so she could sit up right. She coughed a little and shook her head trying to get rid of the little dizziness. "You need to be lively for him. Otherwise he gets worried." She told Kerica sincerely. "If you're too sick to laugh, you're near death in his eyes."

"I am lively? I laugh and joke with the lot of them, and training the last few days since taking Wanda's advice has been amazing," Kerica hummed, "She told me to talk to you, too. I am enjoying this just as much as you are." She shifted, "Let me explain in the simplest way I can. I...love Steve, but I guess you could say it isn't as bight as it was before. I loved him to such a degree that when I first met him, he and the others thought I was a fangirl, a stalker or obsessed," she wasn't sure what she'd understand the best, "It hit me that he has a lot bigger things to worry about that I berated myself so badly that now I can't believe that he's trying to court me."

"You love him, but now that you have the real thing standing before you you're unable to come to terms that he's actually into you." Nyah summarized. "You are your own worse enemy aren't you? You tear your heart into shreds before anyone can get a hold of it. It's like you want to beat them to the punch so that they have nothing to reach and grab. You also look around for hope for a way out, but you're so comfortable where you are, that you don't search for very long, if at all. Is this accurate to you?"

Kerica winced hard and bowed her head, though she still watched her, "That sounds about right, yeah. I'm not proud of it, and I know you can teach an old dog new tricks, but it takes a lot of work. I know I need a lot of work, too. Wanda said I was scared, and she was right."

"But what is it your afraid of? Why do you go through such extreme measures?" Nyah asked curiously.

"I can tell you what I think I'm afraid of? It might not be true, but here you go..." Kerica furrowed her brows, "I am...afraid of everyone thinking I am just a fangirl all over again. That it was an act and I don't actually care, I just wanted to say I'm Captain America's girlfriend. I'm scared that he'll think I'm too clingy, too. That's happened more than once to me growing up. I love so hard, that I don't want to let go, and when I get rejected, it hurts so deeply because /why don't they understand/?" she bit her lip harshly, "I'm...afraid he'll be so old school that he doesn't want me to get hurt so he'll keep me on the sidelines. Yeah he knows I can take care of myself, but he'll go on fighting his battles like he did and not think twice about me."

"Steve would put you on the front lines." Nyah replied sadly. "Because that's where he put Peggy Carter. It could be you're afraid of being compared and contrasted to her, as Peggy was a huge impact in Steve's life." She took a breath. "Both of your souls are so sick..." She mourned softly as she looked away. "I feel guilty. I'm working on healing Bucky, but the longer I work on him, the more I realize that I need to be focusing on all of you. You and Steve in particular. The Solider should be pleased. He asked me if his soul was broken, but I said it was damaged." She looked at Kerica. "You and Steve on the other hand...well...damaged is a bit of an understatement. I don't think you're broken...but...you both are on the brink of it."