BRUCE HADN'T BEEN OUT OF THE LAB IN A WHILE. She was told he came out to cook dinner, then went back into the lab, but considering how Clint was now using JARVIS to order in food, it was clear that the resident geniuses of the Tower weren't coming out any time soon, and Steve often voiced his concerns as to whether or not they were eating and sleeping, to which JARVIS promised to alert the Captain when it was necessary to cart the two to bed.

However, that morning—noon, more like, since that was often when she woke—Tony came out of the lab with a self-satisfied smile, hovering by the elevator with a confused Steve who was trying, and failing to convince Tony to take a nap, the shorter man insisting that they at least wait until the package arrived.

She stood there and watched them for a moment before deciding that she wanted to go and find Bruce, since she hadn't seen him in some time. She hadn't told them, because they weren't as severe as before, but she had had a few episodes between the time they had tested her last and that very moment.

She stepped through the doors, looking around the disheveled room filled with scattered papers and stacked files and wrappers and food. It was chaotic, but it seemed as though its inhabitants didn't seem to mind.

Looking to the right, she found Bruce asleep on the desk, a small alarm clock placed next to him. She walked towards him, sitting down on the chair next to him, resting her head as well, turning to watch him sleep.

His glasses were pushed up to the top of his head and he was snoring slightly, his back rising and falling with his even breaths, and he looked utterly exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his jaw covered in stubble. It took her some time to realize that he had been working so hard to make sure that she was okay.

Reaching out towards the alarm clock, she tried to find a way to disable the alarm to let him sleep, only to find that she didn't know how to do that. So, with no other choice, she simply took out the batteries and put them in her pocket.

As she did, she heard the sound of the door sliding open, and found Tony smirking triumphantly, raising an eyebrow and pointing towards her pocket where she had just slid in the batteries. "I didn't know those shorts had pockets. Also, what're you doing, sweetheart?"

She pointed wordlessly to the alarm, because she did always find silence easier than having to speak. Tony leaned to the side, craning his neck and catching sight of the alarm. His lips melted into a soft, genuine smile as he rolled his eyes, motioning from her towards the door.

"Cute. But smart, okay, I'll let him sleep there, I'm heading to my room. But you get to explain to him why he slept for eighteen hours instead of the half hour he promised himself," Tony said, stretching, "Now scram, I'm gonna clean up first."

She smiled as she made her way out of the room, heading up towards the common area, the batteries jingling softly in her pocket as she climbed the stairs, finding Steve smiling down at a sketchpad, a large wooden box on the cushion next to him.

"Steve," she called out, though he had already looked up when she reached the top, "What're you doing?"

Steve smiled wider at her contraction, mainly because he knew she had picked it up from Clint and Arabella who were bent on teaching her common vernacular and colloquialisms. He motioned for her to sit down, picking up the box.

"Tony got me some art supplies," he explained, looking around for a place to put the box as she sat, only for her to take it from him and place it on her lap, and he smiled gratefully.

She looked down at the wooden box, finding an array of colored pencils in plastic holders which were stacked up on each other. Steve had opened to the back of the sketchbook in his lap and was testing all of the colors in a neat order.

"He knew I was an art student, and he was waiting to see if I was still interested in it," Steve explained, and he seemed to be speaking more to himself, still coloring, and she said nothing, instead just holding out the next pencil while returning the other one.

Steve glanced up towards her, realizing that he hadn't even really addressed her save for answering her question. "How're you doing?"

She reached into her pocket, pulling out the batteries. "Bruce and Tony are sleeping now."

Steve opted not to point out that she hadn't answered his question, instead smiling and taking the batteries from her, examining them as if there was anything to examine, though he looked relieved. "I'm glad, they really needed to rest. Good job."

She nodded, noticing dark circles under Steve's eyes, similar to the ones she had seen on Bruce. She motioned towards him. "You should sleep."

He laughed tiredly, running a hand over his face. "Would if I could, but it's a lot harder than it seems."

She wanted to point out that, for her, sleeping was easier than anything, but she had a feeling that it was different for him than it was for her. Arabella hinted at it more often than not, and she had once seen the younger woman talking with Tony about using her powers to help Steve sleep, on the off-chance that the billionaire was seen out of the lab.

"Sleep now," she said, motioning towards the couch, and he laughed softly.

"I don't really feel like it now," he said, but she shook her head, taking the pencil from his hand and putting it back into the box closing it.

"Tony and Bruce are sleeping," she said, emphasizing the point that even those two were sleeping, "Take a nap. I will."

He laughed at that, clearly humoring her, though she didn't point it out to him. "Well, if you are, I guess it's important, since you just woke up."

She tried to smile at him, though she still wasn't as successful as she wanted to be, and he smiled back, because this was Steve, and he sighed as he stood, stretching his arms above his head.

"Okay. I'm guessing you're gonna hold on to all my stuff until I sleep, huh?" he asked, and she nodded, pretending like she hadn't even considered that, holding her hand out for his sketchbook which he handed over.

If anything, Steve had been waiting for someone to cart him off to bed. Someone who didn't understand why he wasn't sleeping, only that he should be. It was nice to have someone like that, even if it was strange to adjust to.

"See you later," he called, making his way down to his room, and she nodded to herself in the trust and understanding that he would be going to sleep.

Despite everything, Steve did go to sleep. Because while it was hard for him, the last thing he wanted was for her to find out that the people who promised to never lie to her actually did. If she was going to find out people still lied, it was better from people who didn't promise her they wouldn't.

But that didn't mean he slept well. She, on the other hand, did.

º º º

When she saw Bruce again, he was a little upset. Not an exaggeration, he wasn't turning green or trying to control his rage, he was only mildly peeved as he stood in the kitchen waiting to drink coffee directly from the pot, his arms crossed as he waited for her.

She stood at the top of the stairs when she caught sight of him, holding his gaze as he turned to look at her, and he seemed disappointed and upset, but not to where she felt unsafe. The meditation seemed to be working. That, and he had already taken some time to be thoroughly upset at the sight of the clock before thinking through the events and rationalizing the experience, especially after seeking out Tony, taking some time to breathe as he waited for the man to wake up on his own and give him answers.

"Why did I sleep for two days?" he asked her when she finally decided to make her way towards the kitchen.

"Because you didn't sleep," she pointed out, reaching into the fridge and pulling out one of the sodas Arabella had ordered for the sole reason of making her try it, pushing down the cap and watching as the ball fell, the soda fizzing.

Bruce sighed, raising his hands up to rub at his eyes. "Why did you turn off my alarm, I'm trying to make sure you don't die."

"If you die trying to make sure I die, who's going to make sure I don't?" she asked, taking a sip of the soda, and she understood why he was upset, but she wasn't about to apologize for it.

Like everyone had noticed, she was quickly acclimating to her environment, even if she didn't know how to turn off an alarm clock that had an off-switch on the back.

Bruce sighed, leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed, and she was glad to see that he had changed out of the clothes he had worn when she found him in the lab, instead wearing a purple button up with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"I don't see you often," she said, before he could say anything else, "You were the one who wanted me to stay, but you're always in the lab. It makes me...sad?" She thought about how she felt before nodding in confirmation.

Bruce tilted his head, smiling sadly at her. "Contractions, huh? Nice. Yeah, I guess I don't really see you unless you get into another episode. Have you had any more?"

She nodded, because she didn't see a point in lying to him. "They're not as bad as before, but yes. I've been fine, though."

Bruce looked concerned, furrowing his brow as he stepped forward towards her, but she simply reached into the fridge and handed him a soda. "See? Now you start caring."

"That's not true," he argued, but even he could see that there was truth to her words, which didn't help matters much. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, puffing out his cheeks and blowing out the air. "Okay, okay. Well, since I'm out of the lab and Tony put a lock on it unless there's an emergency for the next two days, what do you want to do?"

She shrugged, glancing towards the window. "There's nothing to do around here, except for training and watching TV. And we can't go outside."

He nodded, giving her a sad smile. "Yes, we definitely cannot go outside, and I know how you feel about training. Here, how about I show you my garden?"

She blinked, turning to look at him. "You have a garden? But we can't go outside."

"It's indoors," he explained, leading her down the stairs to the elevator, "Tony adds on rooms all the time, and he added it as soon as I moved in when I mentioned that I missed having my plants everywhere, since my room wasn't accommodated for it. So Tony built me a greenroom. Sorry you don't have access to most of the floors, it's just safety. But if you really want to go, I'm sure Tony will say yes."

"I don't mind," she said, knowing why he had to clarify, the two stepping into the elevator, "At least I remember where I'm going and can do what I want."

He nodded, his lips twitching as he pressed one of the buttons. "Yeah, I hear you're really involved in sleeping through most of the day. Is it because of fatigue, are you just not able to get up?"

"No, I just like sleeping," she said simply, and Bruce reminded himself to get her checked with a psychologist once she was okay, just to make sure it wasn't depression; if they got her stable in time, that is.

"Do you like plants?" he asked, because he didn't know what else to ask as the elevator stopped at their floor, taking a minute before sliding open.

"I've never seen them," she admitted, only to add, "Not unless I was on a mission. Not that I remember the plants."

Bruce looked uncomfortable at the answer, but said nothing, instead sighing softly as he led her inside, and she looked around at the spacious area with floor to ceiling windows, every inch covered in a certain kind of plant, though there seemed to be barriers separating the room into sections.

Bruce caught her eye and laughed softly. "Nothing is ever simple with Tony, he always believes in making things the best. I couldn't come up with my favorite type of plant or region where they grow, so he gave me all of them."

"Tony's nice," she commented lightly, moving to stand in front of the venus flytraps, reaching her finger out towards them, only for Bruce to lightly take her hand in his own.

"They will only close their mouths and digest their food three to five times, so let's not mess with them," he said, making sure to let go of her hand immediately.

She appreciated the fact he hadn't grabbed her wrist or anywhere else, giving her the opportunity to pull away at any moment, but the appreciation was quickly overshadowed by the realization that, even when she didn't mean to, she always had a penchant for killing everything she touched.

She said as much to Bruce, because it had become a habit of hers to say whatever was on her mind, and he shook his head fiercely, moving her away from the venus flytraps.

"That's not true, you didn't know. Everyone wants to stick their finger in their mouths, hell, I always did until I was told, every kid does," he argued, and she frowned at the last comment.

"I'm not a child," she argued, and he nodded in agreement, backtracking his words, nodding.

"I'm sorry, I know that," he said, taking a deep breath as he looked at her, "I didn't mean to insinuate that, it's just most people are introduced to them as children, but you're not."

She crossed her arms, raising her chin as she looked at him. "You think I have the mind of the child. You don't see me as an adult because I don't have a concept of how everything works."

"No," he breathed, shaking his head, but he wouldn't meet her eye. She narrowed hers, and he sighed. "I swear, I don't, it's not that I see you as a child, it's that I can't treat you exactly the same as everyone else, because you need support and some accommodating."

She sighed and tugged the sleeves of her sweater over her hands, even though she didn't know why. "This is frustrating."

"I know," Bruce said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "But I promise you, I don't see you as a child. No one here does."

"I think Tony does," she pointed out, and he shook his head, only to falter.

"He doesn't see you as a child, just someone he has to take care of, which is how most of us see you. It's a slight difference," he said, raising a hand to tilt it from side to side, and she could only stare at it, trying to make sense as to why it made sense to her.

Finally, Bruce sighed, moving to pick up a watering can, taking deep breaths as he began to water the plants, running a hand over some of the leaves, and it was clear that, when he did this, he wanted to be alone.

However, as she turned to head back out and give him privacy, he turned back to her, holding out the can. "Do you want to water some?"

She picked up the can, unsure as to whether or not there was a certain amount she could give them; all things could drown, she knew that well. Her question was answered, however, when Bruce guided her hand, helping her water the first few to let her know how much to water.

Then she was on her own. He moved away from her to another section, picking up a can and watering the plants in the other area, and she was left to try and not kill his plants. She felt her hands shake, unsure of herself as she made her way around, but the more she looked over and found Bruce caught up in his own work, the more she realized that he trusted her enough to take care of one of the few things that he kept to himself.

Once the two finished, Bruce made his way back to her, giving her a pursed lipped smile, his hands in his pockets. She turned to look at him, not bothering to try and smile, but he didn't seem to take any offense by it.

"This was nice," he said, and she nodded wordlessly. He sighed, glancing away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wish we could do this more often, I feel like I don't know you at all, but everyone else knows everything about you."

She shrugged, crossing her arms. "Because they're around me."

He sighed, shaking his head, laughing softly. "But you know why I'm in the lab all the time, I'm trying to keep you alive."

"But you don't see me live," she countered, and Bruce smiled, genuinely surprised by her words, tilting his head.

"Look at you," he mumbled, before continuing, louder, "Well, you know, you could visit the lab, no one's stopping you. At least I can keep up on how you're doing."

"And you could leave and cook us dinner again," she pointed out, and Bruce laughed at that, a short laugh, but his eyes crinkled shut and his head tilted back before hanging forward.

"I've been informed that my average cooking skills have been missed," he said, shrugging and smiling loosely, "Okay, here, how about you visit me at the lab more, and promise to tell me whenever you have an episode, and I'll come out and cook dinner."

"And watch TV," she added, and he laughed again, his head bowing before he nodded in agreement.

"And watch TV," he finished, reaching out to run his hand over the leaves of one of his plants, "Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

She was glad to hear that he was agreeing. After all, even though she was dying, they still had more time. Then again, that was what people always thought. That they had all the time in the world. They didn't have all the time. Just more.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I never mention it, but I headcanon Steve to have lied about his age the same way Peggy canonly did because the boy lied about everything, so I assume Bucky was older than he already is, but he keeps up with the lie so Steve was twenty-one when he went under and eighteen when he enlisted, because it makes sense for his character and I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that this was canon, but maybe in the comics, who even knows, but that's what I'm going with.

But yeah, this chapter happened, it was fairly filler, but I realized she hardly spends any time with Bruce, which is strange because it's a Bruce fic, so we're gonna slowly change that. Now that she's happily welcome in the lab, and he promised to actually take some time to get to know her, they're gonna see each other more often so yay!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!