ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ♡ ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ.

✩ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ: ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴡɪᴅᴏᴡ

Squeezing the rounds of her knees, Mawu Munroe watched the puddle of vomit below her. Every breath appeared rigid, and her eyes blurred out of emotions. Sweat rolled down her forehead to the tip of her nose, dripping on the ground. Pregnancy hadn't been on her mind at all. She assumed the stress engulfed her. Why would it? She thought they were careful.

Their fun wasn't supposed to be anymore but fun. She needed him and he needed her. Feelings got in the way of what should have been and now, Mawu couldn't believe it. If Lemar is right, what should she do? She couldn't bring a child into this world. She and Bucky were barely together. They hadn't figured out a good balance just yet. And now, she stood, bent, looking over her stomach acid and breakfast.

With a wipe from her backhand, Mawu stood up straight and blinked back the tears that overcame her during this unfortunate fit.

She then pulled down at her white jacket to cover her torso fully, and fixed her fringe. If this were the case, Mawu immediately thought of the pros and cons. She wanted a child with Tony but did she want a child with Bucky?

While walking back towards the entrance from where she came from, she began to count the negatives and positives on her fingers. Before entering, she raised her head to examine the worn metal door. Behind it, Bucky is most likely waiting. Worried sick about her sudden runoff. A sense of fear came over her and Mawu felt her stomach bubble up again, but she resists the urge to vomit. Instead, she does another fix of her hair and wardrobe, then moved back inside.

Bucky is the first to come to her as soon as she shut the door behind her. A look of concern overwhelmed him and he towered over her, unsure what to say. Mawu could take care of herself, she had proven this several times before, but Bucky still worried. This feeling of apprehension was foreign to him. He wasn't sure how to react.

"Are you okay?" Bucky questioned, noticing her complexion to be pale for someone her skin color. His hand went up to her face and he pushed back her bangs, placing his hand on her forehead to check her temperature. "What did he say to you?"

"James," Mawu went for his wrist, pulling his touch away from her. "I'm fine. No need to worry." She held his gloved hand in hers and gave him a small smile and squeeze. "I just felt a little sick from everything that's happened. I'm fine."

As Mawu spoke, her bright eyes snapped towards Lemar, who stood in front of the metal table. He, too, appeared concerned and regretful for what he had said. He didn't mean to start a chain reaction. He had assumed she knew. But maybe this will be a learning process.

Zemo read the room, moving his handcuffed hand to slightly step forward. One brow raised, while he searched Lemar for some type of revelation.

"No, no, no. This is a bad idea," John, too wrapped in his unnecessary anxiety ignores everyone. Still pacing.

Bucky turned to watch John, still holding onto Mawu's hand;

"It hasn't been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight."

"Don't do that. Don't patronize me," John growled over his shoulder.

"He knows what he is doing," Bucky continued, turning fully toward the others.

Giving into his anxiety, John removes the shield from his back and starts for where Sam and Karli could be. But Bucky hurries to cut John off just shy from the metal steps. The latter placed his vibranium hand against John's chest, stopping him. Lemar and Mawu step a little behind John, ready to protect their partners if need be. However, John looks down at Bucky's hand in disgust, raising his scowl to meet Bucky's.

"This is all easy for you, isn't it?" John spoke coolly.

Bucky squints his eyes, perplexed by John's words.