James Bucky Barnes, the former soldier, doesn't think he's got any gentleness left in him. But Grace Juniper Cunningham, the former child prodigy, strongly disagrees.
;
"𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯."
"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴�...
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I stirred. My head was throbbing. The mattress below me was stiff. I was tucked under a thin blanket and wearing loose, lightweight, staticky material. The fabric of the blanket and the clothes smelled clean—surgically, chemically so. It was all familiar. All of this hit me at once, and I shot up, looking around for Rumlow coming to wake me up.
Then I remembered.
"Hey roomie." Colin was laying on top of an identical twin bed on the other side of a small, dimly lit concrete room. He sat up when I looked at him, swinging his legs onto the ground and leaning his elbows onto his knees.
I wrinkled my nose, palm against my aching head. "Ugh." My mouth was so dry that I didn't want to open it to speak properly.
"I tried to tell you to lean on me."
"Where's my mom?" I asked hoarsely. "Is she okay?"
"I don't know, Grace. Why did you leave the Avengers Tower?"
"Fuck off, dude. Obviously I regret doing that now. Where are we?"
"Do you really think I would know? If I knew where this base was, do you really think I wouldn't have dropped you a hint when I left you that picture of your mom?"
I didn't say anything, and he continued. "I have something for you. A peace offering. For calling you a bitch. I was very stressed, you gotta understand." He dug something out from between his mattress and bed frame and stood up.
I winced at his lanky outline in the darkness, made worse by the hoodie he had on, hood up, over his prison uniform. "Oh my god, don't stand over me like that. You look so fucking creepy. Turn the overhead light on. You look like the grim reaper."
"Suck it up. I'm trying to give you something."
He came over and extended a closed fist toward me, and I held my hands out. Bucky's dog tags clinked into my palms. "They would've taken them from you if they'd found them," Colin said. "So don't get caught with them."
"Thank you," I said, actually touched. I closed my hand around them, as if that would be enough to conceal them. I wished I had a pocket to put them in.
He was already across the room, flicking the overhead light on. I blinked thickly as the harsh light pierced through my headache. Maybe having them off wouldn't have been that bad, I thought.
"I should tell you the reason I found them is because you were half-conscious and they were gonna have someone make you change into the latest prisoner-chic outfit as soon as you started being able to stand up. I said I'd do it, 'cause I thought you'd rather it was me than a HYDRA goon. 'Cause you at least sort of trust me—
"I don't, actually—"
"—And we share that little bit of Zola DNA, so we're family. I still feel gross about it, though, so I'm sorry. You tried to bite me a lot."
