A Birdie Lost in Time | Bucky Barnes

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"Tomorrow?" she asked in confusion.

Sam mirrored her expression, leaning his back against the wall. "Yah. We... we've talked about it a few times. Our plane leaves at noon," he explained slowly,

We did?

She thought back, remembering that they had, in fact, talked about it.

Days ago.

It stunned her, realizing that days had passed. They were a blur, like she moved through them without actually being there. While most of it was spent in her room in a half-conscious haze, she'd spent some quiet meals with the guys, took a walk around the pop-up one night, even got cleared by Doctor Green. It was sickeningly similar to how she lived in Siberia, and that was enough to send discomforting waves through her.

"Uh, yah, right. Sorry, I didn't sleep well last night, must have forgotten..." she mumbled as her hands buried themselves further in her blanket.

"Do you want any help packing?"

"No, I don't have much anyways... I just... I'll start now."

"Alright. And when you want something to eat, let me know, I can bring something in."

"Sure," she nodded, only half registering his words. Her mind was now on the task of packing the few things she owned. She didn't have any keepsakes, so it was only her tablet, the few pieces of clothing she'd collected after the Snap and... that was it.

She pulled the heavy duffle bag off the bed and dropped it onto the now-empty plastic bin, eyes searching for anything she'd forgotten.

Wait.

She blinked a few times, mind reeling—she was just talking to Sam, now she was finished packing?

She let her mind wander back, and sure enough he'd said that he was happy she was going with him before disappearing behind the door. And then she started packing. But it was like she was in a dream—or possibly nightmare—where she wasn't present. Her body just moved while her mind was idle within her.

What the hell?!

The fact that she could remember what happened but not doing it was terrifying.

I'm losing my mind.

Everything was supposed to be normal now; she was back from Hydra, it was supposed to be okay. Why wasn't she okay? Why did she still not have control of her mind?

What if they're still in control?

The thought was like ice water down her back.

That was impossible. She was back.

But was she?

Her body was back, her injuries had healed, but her mind? It was still there. And it didn't belong to her.

She gritted her teeth and pushed those thoughts away, mind fighting against the feeling of drowning.

Grabbing the towel from where she'd left it on top of her dresser, she pulled the door open a crack, eyeing the empty hallway. There were no voices, no footsteps, so she stepped out, keeping her feet silent as she slipped down the hall. When she came to the shower room, she pushed the door open just enough to listen, and when she heard nothing, she hurried in and locked the door. The familiar thunk was like an immediate tension release and her shoulders slumped before she turned and rounded the corner.

She was much less on edge this time than she was the last—although she wasn't sure whether that was because she felt secure by the lock, or because she just didn't have the energy to care. But whatever the reason, her steps were lazy as she made her way to the last stall. When she stepped in and pulled the curtain closed, she didn't feel that nauseated feeling that she had last time, just a lag that seemed to slow her movements. And as she rubbed the soap and shampoo into her, she found herself letting her eyes fall closed while her mind wandered to blankness.