five.

bits and pieces

MAEV CAREFULLY CUT the newspaper article, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Small pieces of her hair had fallen out of her braid, framing her face and hanging just barely in her peripheral vision. Old music trickled from the vinyl spinning on the record player she'd bought a few days earlier, not usually her taste, but she'd discovered it helped James relax so it was all she played. She placed the clipping on the coffee table, next to three others she'd already cut. The headline stared at her in bold letters, jumping out due to the large font.

CAPTAIN AMERICA RETURNS: THE HERO WE DIDN'T KNOW WE NEEDED UNTIL NOW

The other clippings had similar titles, all relating to Steve Roger's return and the events he'd been involved in since waking up from his seventy year nap.

James sat across from her, writing in the journal he'd bought to help piece together his memory. They'd already managed to fill a good chunk of the journal and Maev had a feeling they'd go through a couple more before he was satisfied with the knowledge he would accumulate. 

It had been six days since she'd returned from her meeting with her sisters, it had been six days since she'd received their blessing to induct James as a Ranju, and it had been four days since they'd laid down in the middle of a black symbol pertaining all the Sister Three symbols and been bound as Ranju. 

Maev still hadn't gotten used to the weight of the bond, of the way faint feelings would trickle into her body and feel out of place because they weren't hers. She'd spent hours after the ceremony gazing at the intricate symbol now etched on her right forearm, tracing each curve and line until it was engraved in her mind. Similar to a tattoo, to the point where only the trained eye could detect that magic put it there, the symbol was unique to her and James and served as a reminder of the bond that now tied them together for all of eternity. 

"You're staring again."

James's voice broke her out of her thoughts and she blinked, realizing that she'd zoned out once more while looking in his direction. "Sorry, I was lost in thought."

He made a noise of acknowledgment, having witnessed this quite a few times since he'd met her. Each time he made the same comment and each time she responded with the same words.

Maev riffled through the stack of newspapers next to her, beginning her search for yet another article with Steve Rogers in it. She'd raided the time capsules again this morning, grabbing anything that had a superhero or abnormal section in it. She'd struck out quite a few times, but every now and then there'd be something about the super soldier. 

Sunlight trickled through her blinds, slowly growing brighter as the day went on, Maev letting the mundane task lull her into an easy comfort. 

James moved and she looked up from cutting a rather dashing picture of Steve out from an otherwise dull newspaper. He didn't say anything, walking over to the record player which had reached the end of the vinyl. She watched him as he crouched down and carefully lifted the needle from the vinyl, flipping the vinyl over to the second side painstakingly slow so he didn't damage anything. 

Careful, James was unbelievably careful for someone of his stature. 

She knew the basics about him: that he was a trained assassin of sorts, that he belonged from the same era as Steve Rogers, and that most of his past remained a mystery to even him.  But it wasn't until the Ranju ceremony that she'd realized just how deep his invisible scars went. 

As part of the binding, each partner receives a minuscule amount of memories from the other, bits and pieces of events that shaped them into who they were. Not enough to paint a whole picture, but just enough to establish the tie between their souls. Each time she closed her eyes, the montage of James's memories would play again and again, a never-ending cycle of pain.

She was falling, falling with no end in sight as fear churned in her stomach. Cold wind whipped at her bare skin and her mouth gaped open to scream as the ground appeared out of nowhere, snow rising to meet her as she fell face first. Just as she hit the ground, pain like no other rattling her bones, the mountains surrounding her melted into a nothingness that pulsated around her. That nothingness formed into a piercing cold that sunk so deep into her bones she felt as if warmth was a myth she told herself to chase away the pain. 

She writhed on a metal table, bright lights and dark spots intertwining in her vision. She lifted her arms, only they weren't her arms anymore and a metal hand shook in her vision as horror filled her body, a scream threatening to shatter her reality—

Maev jolted forward, a gasp escaping her lips, her body curling forward. "Maev? Maev are you alright?" It took her a moment to realize that James was gripping her shoulder with his human hand, his metal hand— the same hand from her dream — still at his side, the silver fingers clenched into a tight fist. 

She clamped down on her emotions without hesitation, knowing that she'd most likely flung some of her terror down the thin tether between them. "Sorry," she mumbled, pressing the palm of her hands against her eyelids, "I think I just need to sleep."

He withdrew his hand, though the warmth from it felt burned into her skin. "I read somewhere that plums are good for your memory." His voice is quiet, like always, but not from shyness. Rather it stemmed from his desire to not scare her or anyone else that came across him.

She dropped her hands and looked at him. He was staring down at his hands, his eyes narrowed slightly in thought. She cleared her throat to ease the tightness that had constructed it, "I've heard the farmers market on main has good plums, and if you don't want to eat them plain I happen to know how to make fantastic plum tarts."

He nodded slightly, thinking over her words. He stood up and carefully, oh so carefully cleaned up the scrapbooking supplies into a bag and tucked his journal into his jacket. "You should get some sleep." Is all he says before he leaves her apartment, his footsteps a mere whisper against her floor. 

Maev groans in frustration, stretching her arms. She didn't really want to sleep, but she could feel exhaustion nipping at her heels. So she stood up and dragged herself over to the cupboard, searching through it until she found the box full of syringes in the back.

Specially made by a witch doctor, the concoction would knock a normal witch out for eight hours. However, since Maev's blood attacked the sleeping draught as soon as it entered her bloodstream, she'd only be asleep for three hours. She flicked the glass a few times, making sure it was properly mixed, before sliding it into her upper arm. She watched the murky, green liquid leave the glass and threw the syringe back into the box before stumbling over to the couch.

Darkness edged her vision as Maev laid down, not even sure if her eyes were closed as the world shut off.

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