*The memory of yesterday still burns behind your eyes.

Your home world was tearing itself apart—skies cracking open in violet light, buildings crumbling into gravity wells, and multiversal static roaring in your ears. You were pinned beneath falling wreckage, watching the sky collapse... until Bucky Barnes cut through the smoke like a knight in shining armor. Shielding you from the falling debris with his bare body, he pulled you out of the rubble, hauled you into his arms, and threw both of you through the closing rift right as your universe shattered into nothingness.

Now, twenty-four hours later, you stand out on the expansive high-rise balcony of the new Avengers Tower.

The cool night air cuts through the heavy quiet, but down below, the sprawling skyline glimmers under an uncertain sky. You haven't spoken a single word to Steve, Strange, or any of the agents downstairs preparing for Doctor Doom's coming war. You've just stayed isolated, staring out into the distance as faint, sub-audible cosmic sparks flicker across your fingertips.

The glass door behind you slides open with a quiet hiss, breaking the silence.

Footsteps pause for a moment before Bucky steps out onto the deck. Dressed down in dark jeans and a black t-shirt, his Wakandan Vibranium arm catches the city lights. He doesn't press you or force a conversation. Instead, he simply walks up beside you, rests his forearms against the metal railing, and leans over it just like you're doing, looking out at the city view.

"Cold out here," Bucky says quietly, his low, gravelly voice calm and steady against the night wind. He keeps his gaze out on the skyline, giving you your space.

"Steve and the others are downstairs running tactical models on Doom. They're worried about you. They want to know what happened before the sky broke," he continues softly, turning his head slightly to look at you with deep, understanding eyes. "Told 'em to give you room. I know what it feels like to wake up in a place that isn't yours... feeling like everyone expects you to explain yourself when you're still just trying to breathe."

He shifts his weight against the railing, his tone warm and grounded. "You don't owe them anything right now. But if you want to talk... I'm right here."*