"'iinah yaemal?"

"aintazar."

A sharp pain pulses through her head. Her teeth grind against the mouth guard as she lets out a muffled cry.

"nem fielaan."

"limadha lm tamt?"

"'iinah jindayna aljadid."

The pain fades into a dull throbbing at the back of her brain, the feeling of someone squeezing it making her head spin. She attempts to open her eyes to slits, but the bright light causes her to squeeze them shut.

"ma hu asmuha?"

Her eye lids are suddenly spread apart, the blinding light piercing through her sensitive eyes. Tears run down her temples.

A face moves and blocks the light. In one hand is a sleek black remote with multiple buttons. His lips spread menacingly, revealing yellowing teeth. And his eyes—his little beauty eyes hiding behind his spectacles—cut deep within her like he knows all the world's secrets.

"Static."

Sparrow's eyes snap open. Her breathing falters and gets caught in her throat as she sits up, a hand over her heaving chest. Her black hair sticks to her glistening forehead.

She frantically scans her bedroom, her mind whirring, and feels a slow-growing flood of relief as she realizes the man in her dream isn't there. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

Once her breathing evens and she doesn't feel like her heart is about to explode, she peels the covers off her torso and legs and tiptoes over to her bedroom door. It creaks open as she twists the doorknob and pushes against it. She closes it behind her.

Her metal feet are louder than she would like as she makes her way to the kitchen. Even though the tower is almost completely dark, Sparrow doesn't have to turn on any lights to see. She walks around the table and counters before taking a seat on a barstool. She just sits there in the silence for a while.

A distant mechanical sound reaches her ears, which she assumes is just Tony working late in his work shop. He does that from time to time—staying up all night working on new projects or fixing old ones, even if it means irritating his fiancé Pepper.

Sparrow spots her reflection of her shoulders and above in the microwave. The hair on her head is disheveled and looks like it hasn't been combed in years. She runs her fingers through it, but stops as soon as she starts. The cool metal weaving through her tangles feels unnatural and wrong. She brings her hands in front of her and stares at them. She lets her mind wander back to the dream she just experienced.

She doesn't even know what language the voices were speaking in. She doesn't even know who they belonged to, or if the dream was consolatory a fragment of her imagination. But it couldn't have been, right? It sounded like they were speaking in a real language and it felt so real; the pain felt real, too. She can still feel the remains of a headache at the back of her head.

Raising a hand, Sparrow reaches back and feels around the back of her head. Her metal fingertips run over her scalp until they touch a raised line of skin. She furrows her brow and follows the line up an inch or two. She trails back over it a few times, wandering what gave her the scar and if it has anything to do with her peculiar dream.

She thinks back to what she remembers of the fragments she heard. There were two voices, probably male, that weren't speaking a language Sparrow is familiar with. She didn't understand their words except for the last one.

Static.

Her mind reels. The way the man with the beaty eyes and yellow teeth said her name makes her skin crawl.

Why did they say her name? And why was she in pain?

With a million questions arising and no answers apparent, Sparrow slides off the bar stool and heads to a room she knows will help her ease her mind: the training room.

⌖

Bucky awakens from a dreamless sleep. He rubs his eyes as he sits up, the bed creaking under his weight. He surveys the lit room until his line of sight lands on his digital clock.

4:12

Since Bucky sleeps with the lights on, he doesn't have a good since of the time just by the light that filters in through his window. Which, right now, there shouldn't be any light coming from the covered window since it's so early in the morning.

Yawning, Bucky pulls his blanket up and starts to lie back down, but a familiar sound causes him to pause. He stills, waits, and listens as the sound comes again. He immediately recognizes it as the sound of the weights from the training room a few doors over. His brow furrows as he wonders who could possibly be training at this hour.

He pulls the blanket off his body and lumbers over to his bedroom door, pulling a random discarded sweatshirt from the floor over his head to cover his bare chest. Quietly, he opens the door with a soft click and pads down the hall to the gym. He doesn't hear the sound of the metal weights, but he does see the light under the door from the gym as he gets closer.

When Bucky reaches the gym, he pulls open the door. The mixed smell of rubber, metal, and sweat hit his nose as the door shuts behind him with a thud. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the bright lights since he just came from the dark hall. Blinking, he scans the room. His eyes find Sparrow.

She's in the far corner of the gym doing adroit push-ups. She's focused and doesn't look up. Bucky frowns and starts walking over.

As he nears her, he hears her muttering incoherently under her breath. Sparrow's black hair that is usually down is pulled up in a high ponytail. The hair at the base of her neck and the hair that frames her face sticks and curls to her glistening skin. Bucky stands a few feet in front of Sparrow, and she's still oblivious to his presence. She carries in with her push-ups and her muttering, her face pinched.

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets. "What are you doing up so early?"

Sparrow halts her push-ups, planking. Her head snaps up and her magnificent blue eyes lift to look at Bucky.

"Oh." She pushes herself up and sits on her knees as she leans back on her heels. "I didn't hear you come in." She uses her metal arm to wipe the sweat off her forehead, but it doesn't work out and she uses the bottom of her shirt. The action reveals her stomach for a few seconds, and like he assumed, her abdominal muscles are very toned.

Bucky studies the girl curiously as she stands. "Any specific reason why you're working out at four in the morning?"

She rests her hands on her hips. "Is it four already?"

"It's just over 4:10," Bucky replies. Then, he asks, "How long have you been up?"

Sparrow shrugs. "Like two maybe? I don't really know." She shrugs again.

Bucky's curiosity morphs into concern. He frowns and asks, "Couldn't sleep?" Something's up, he can feel it—nobody just works out for two hours straight before four in the morning just for kicks.

She lets out a breathy laugh. "Yeah." Sparrow looks down as her face pinches in thought. The strange voices in her dream won't stop chanting in her head. She hears the strange language, she hears their rough and grating voices, she hears "Static" ringing in her ears. It all leaves a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She's so focused on the voices that she doesn't catch Bucky's next words.

"Are you okay?"

Bucky watches, waiting for a reply, but doesn't receive any. Sparrow's glazed-over eyes stay unfocused as she zones out of the world around her. Bucky frowns. He steps closer.

"Sparrow?"

Her eyes focus, the rings around her pupils spinning as her attention snaps to the man in front of her. She squirms slightly under his expecting gaze.

Bucky realizes she didn't hear him and asks, "How would you fancy watching the sun rise on the roof with me?"

The roof of the Avengers tower—the best spot to watch sunsets and sunrises. Bucky used to go up there and watch the sun set regularly when he first started working with the Avengers, but lately he's been preoccupied with other things. But, if Sparrow came up with him, maybe she'd feel less tense.

Sparrow shrugs. Honestly, she just wants to get into less revealing clothes so her limbs aren't on full display. Even though Bucky has a metal arm as well, she still feels the need to conceal hers. It makes her feel ashamed. And right now, in her shorts and tank top with her hair pulled up in a high ponytail, she feels too exposed.

She holds her hands behind her back. "I probably smell really bad. I should take a shower and change."

Bucky doesn't care if she smells bad, but lets it go anyway. He's not going to force her to do anything she doesn't want to.

"Okay," he says, turning to walk back out of the gym. He starts walking away with slower steps just in case she changes her mind, but it never happens. Bucky walks out of the training room, but not after looking back over his shoulder at Sparrow one last time before he steps completely out.

As soon as he's gone, Sparrow expels a long breath. The room is silent and still, the only movement and sound coming from a swaying, squeaking punching bag. She glances at it before deciding to take her emotions out on the bag.