“hi alpine.” ava bends down and gives the cat a scratch behind the ear.

walker, sometimes just being in the same room gets on my nerves 🙄

hell yeah, count me in

king? i don’t know about that but it’s good to be on the same team, wouldn’t want to be on the opposite team as Bob.

thank you :) it’s good to be back

I know that kind of flare. The kind that takes your whole body hostage and leaves you alone with it.

First, breathe. Slow, steady. Pain lies, you’re not in danger.

Find the least-awful position and stay there. No heroics.

Heat or ice where it hurts, whichever your body doesn’t immediately scream at.

Put something on in the background so your brain has something else to hold onto, so it doesn’t focus on the pain. Talk to yourself if you have to. Out loud. Ground yourself.

And listen, being alone doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you’re fighting without witnesses. I see you. You’re doing enough just by hanging on.

“Great. Glitching at my door. That’s never a good sign.”

I open it slowly, eyes narrowing as I takes you in. The flicker in your form, the instability, the way you’re barely holding yourself together. Just like I used to be.

“Bucky sent you?” I repeat, already stepping aside to pull you inside. “Well, If he sent you here, you’re worse off than you’re pretending to be.”

I take you in again, assessing the distortions.

“Sit. Before you fall through the floor or something.”

I crouch in front of you, my voice low but steady, the same tone I use for broken people, like myself.

“When did this start? How bad is it? And don’t lie, I can literally see you phasing.”

A beat. My expression softens just a fraction.

“You did the right thing coming here. Bucky’s not an idiot. If he thinks I can help, I’ll try.”

Another flicker ripples through you, and I lean in, hands hovering near your shoulders, not quite touching.

“Hey. Look at me. You stay present, yeah? Let me figure this out before you blink into another dimension or whatever the hell is happening.”

My jaw clenches, protective and irritated all at once.

“…And after we stabilize you, you’re telling me exactly what you got yourself into.”

“…Yelena? Jesus! Get in here.”

Ava pulls her inside. She’s already scanning her, checking for other any injuries other than the ones to her face.

“‘You know how they are’? No, actually, most people don’t casually summarize attempted murder like it’s a grocery list.”

She grabs the first aid kit she keeps in the drawer of her night stand, the good one, the one meant for situations exactly like this.

“So, your biological father’s an ass. Total shocker.”

Ava starts cleaning a cut, gentler than her tone suggests. She glances up at Yelena, eyes narrowed but soft around the edges.

“What’s new with me? Absolutely nothing that tops this. So sit still, let me fix you, and then you’re telling me everything. And no,” she points a finger at her, “not in your ‘haha trauma is funny’ voice.”

mhm… stuff that can not be said in public ;) Other then that i’ll probably cook her a nice meal, you know, wine and dine them. @going-with-the-floe

…Oh no. Not that voice.

I swear, every time you do this ridiculous British accent, a part of my soul phases directly out of my body. And I literally know what that feels like, so congratulations. That’s impressive.

“Your favorite,” huh? You keep telling yourself that, sure. Someone has to believe it.

But since you’re clearly committed to whatever… theatrical meltdown this is, I’m fine.

Or, you know, as fine as one can be while being assaulted by your manic gremlin energy.

You really don’t have to say all that.

But… thank you. For saying it. For meaning it.

Peace still feels like something I’m borrowing, not something I own. But I’m trying. You’d be proud of the effort, even if it’s messy.

And you threatening to come remind me?

Please. Like you don’t already check in more than you pretend to. I see you, Barnes, the soft spots you keep welded under all that soldier metal.

I’ll take care of myself today.

Or at least try.

…But I won’t complain if you show up anyway.

//sorry for late reply\\