Has the bed always been this fluffy? Why so many pillows? I groan, tossing another pillow against the wall, finally hitting the bare mattress. Still uncomfortable. I push myself off of the bed and open the bedroom door. I find my dad also on the sofa, watching a show. He looks over at me, and sits up, "Я не могу спать" I mumble. He moves the blankets around on the sofa and I jump over the couch to sit on the other side, "I hate the bed now. It's...it's too soft."
"Too much comfort?" He whispers.
I nod, curling up in the blankets, "And the shower is too warm and I hate soap choices? Like...What the hell is wrong with me?"
Dad keeps looking at me, "Nothing is wrong with you, Mil. It's going to take a while to get used to it," He assures me, "It took me a while until I got used to sleeping in a bed."
"Then why are you here?"
He turns the volume down on the TV, facing me, "Because I worry about you, as I have done since you were a baby. I will sleep out here until the bed isn't soft anymore." I smile at him. It's still strange to think about, my dad, a trained killer, sitting on the sofa watching a cartoon with a cat sitting on his shoulder. Lunch tip-toes across the sofa and sits on my lap, "Lunch and I spent a lot of time together when you were gone."
I smile, petting her head, and bringing her up to my cheek, "She's a good cat."
Dad smiles. He leaned over, tucking the blanket around my legs and arms, then kissed my head, like he did when I was little. It feels so warm. I like it when Dad is happy, it almost feels like we're both normal again.
I woke up to the sun in my face, and the TV off. Dad is gone. I blink a few times and push myself off of the sofa. Bextley is eating cereal and Dad is drinking his weird smoothies, "Mil, breakfast." I pick Lunch up from the floor and go to the kitchen, "So," Dad begins, "We're going to try and find out where Teague is, and try to stop the organisation. For good. I just wanted both of you to know that."
"He might be here first." Bextley shrugged.
"So optimistic," I roll my eyes, picking up the fruit from the bowl, "More plums?" I ask Dad.
"Good for your brain. Eat these too," He pushes a bowl of blueberries towards me. Fine. Dad sighs, finishing his drink, "Bextley, Banner and Cho said you can go to the lab today, get yourself fixed."
"What? Like a dog?"
Dad glances at me, and I roll my eyes, "I think they want to fix the part of your arm that pops out when you put too much pressure on it," I mumble, "And the weird mark on your neck that grows when you're anxious," She touches her neck, and I shrug, "You can't see it, but I can. It's weird and pulses."
Bextley stands up, "Okay, fine. I'll go, where's my knife?"
"You don't need it."
"What if I do?"
"You don't need the knife, just go," I push her towards the door. She groaned and stamped her foot like a child as she went out the door. Dad looks at me, and I roll my eyes, "She has a lot of trust issues, but at least she hasn't stabbed anyone." I mumble, picking at my breakfast. Dad sits beside me, moving my hair from my face, saying, "You're being weird." I whisper.
"I missed my daughter." I'm not sure I feel like Mila anymore. He kisses my forehead, "I'm happy you're home and you have friends. I'm also happy that you're better and I think we should move when everything is settled here."
"Back to Sonny's?"
"No, a real house. Not a motel or a tower, a home." He's making me a promise. I know he's telling me the truth and it's making me nervous. Dad stands up, picking up my empty plate, "Spend some time upstairs today or you're grounded."
Fine.
I forced myself up the stairs, carrying Lunch on my hip as I went to the common room. It's quiet in here. No agents, no Avengers. I smile, sitting in the middle of the room, placing Lunch down beside me. The sun is warm, there aren't cement walls keeping me trapped. No Teague. Yet...it's like his shadow is right behind me.
And it's still—"Goddamn it!" I shout into the pillow, sitting myself up. I collect the pillows and blankets, throwing them into the closet. I lay down, staring up at the ceiling. It still feels as if he's right behind me.
I feel his hand on my shoulder and he's trying to—"Are you awake?" I push the door open more and look at Bextley. She shrugged, "I can't sleep in that bed." I shuffle over until my back hits the other side of the closet and she lays beside me, "Your dad is asleep outside. Is he scared I'll kill him in his sleep?"
"No," I whisper, "He's worried about me because I haven't been sleeping for a while."
She turns her head towards the bedroom door, then back to me, "You're lucky you have people who care about you." I nod. Bextley curls up, staring at me. She feels warm. Maybe I could use her as a blanket, "Bucky Barnes is less threatening than I thought he would be."
"Wait until the bird guy gets here, then he's all angry and passive-aggressive." I'm not sure why he has a weird friendship with Sam, but it's always fun to watch. I cover us both with the blanket, "My dad is going to get us a house soon, he promised."
"Teague isn't going to let us go," she whispers, "He's going to come back for us. He's relentless, he's going to come back and he's going to make sure that we never get away again."
Nice story to tell before I go to sleep. She turns her head to the ceiling of the closet, "Are we still going to be close even if we're taken back?" I ask. She lays her head beside mine, holding onto my hands as she closes her eyes. I stare at her, feeling her emotions as she sleeps next to me. She's so warm and her heart is fluttering as I hold her close to me.
