Bruce had been examining the 'chip' he had removed from Lyla's neck, it seemed to be some kind of tracker but this part had stopped working. He sat in his lab pulling at the tentacle like strands that protruded from the rusting chip. It crumbled away the more he played with it. "Hmm... interesting."

He would mumble to himself occasionally, in awe at the technology in front of him. "Well I wasn't expecting that."

Bruce finally deduced, after putting the chip through as many scans and tests that it could withstand, that the chip had caused Lyla's powers to disrupt and become unstable, a support to the power draining cuffs she had to endure whilst tortured and locked up. Although an interesting and odd piece of technology, the chip was old and degrading, the final blast from Lyla's force field had caused it to malfunction.

Bucky had stayed away from Lyla since the night of her bad dream. He felt he was to blame somehow. He's had to endure the bad images of everything he did in the past, in his past, for such a long time and somehow he thought these had seeped into Lyla, like some kind of curse. It hurt him to stay away from her, they had finally come to an understanding. He had found a friendship he wasn't sure he would ever find again in their short time together. But he couldn't and wouldn't hurt her. It was unfortunate that he didn't see he was doing more damage than good.

A lot had happened that Bucky's mind was failing to comprehend, mainly his feelings and he couldn't understand them.

"We can't happen. This. Me. Her. She's a friend...isn't she." He thought to himself whilst alone in the training room one afternoon, he'd managed to evade Lyla and the training sessions Sam thrust on them this far, it hurt to turn his back on her. "Such a dick move." As Sam would say, he thought as he slammed his fist into the solid leather. Bucky was using the punch bag as a means to vent his frustrations, he'd punch holes in one and have to replace it with another; a discarded pile had started to build in the corner, sand trails snaking back to Bucky.

Lyla walked in then as the last punch bag fell to the floor with a thud, the sand within it seeping out onto the floor around his feet. As she entered Bucky averted his eyes, quickly scurrying past Lyla, not looking at her but concentrating on the door behind her, his escape route. She felt the air whip around her as he hurried past, almost ripping the door from its hinges. Lyla sucked in a breath smelling his cologne. Her eyes closed lightly at his scent. She turned around as he found his exit, prepared to go after him with demands to know why he had suddenly cut her off.

"Buck..." His name left her lips in a silent whisper as she held up a hand, which soon flopped back to her side.

Lyla sighed and walked forwards, retrieving a fresh punch bag and taking Bucky's place. She hung it up on the hook; proceeded to punch it as hard and fast as she could till her knuckles bled, she needed to release many pent up emotions. It didn't split and fall to the ground like Bucky's had, this bag had some resilience.

"Argh..." She huffed and grunted, practically screaming. Silent tears coming down her face as she fought to ignore the pain in her knuckles. She finally slumped to the floor in defeat, hitting the stone floor with her closed fist, sure she had broken it, she let the ache of the pain work up her arm. She sat for a while in the silence of the room before pulling herself up and walking to her quarters to shower and attend to her knuckles, which had begun to bruise. How was she going to explain this?

Bucky had continued to dodge Lyla around the compound and would bolt his door at night, for fear she would come to see him, it was childish of him really. It had been a little over a month since Lyla's nightmare and he had left.

"What did I do?" Lyla thought to herself as she sat on the end of her bed one night, looking down at her hands in her lap. She twiddled her aching swollen fingers, the bruises had started to heal, she had told Sam it was an accident, she had hit the bag at an odd angle.

Lyla's scars caught the light as she moved her wrist, she carefully traced her fingers over the shiny flesh, bringing back memories of Bucky running his fingers over the same place. Feelings of remorse and shame washed over her.

Feeling a sudden sense of bravery Lyla pushed herself up from the mattress and stomped to her bedroom door, she quietly opened it and stepped into the hall. She crept to Bucky's door leaning her forehead against it. He heard it, he knew it was her, if his senses weren't already heightened, they were doubly heightened around her. He stiffened up knowing she was mere feet away, he had forgotten to lock the door behind him.

After a while Lyla retreated back to her room, unable to go through with her plan. She walked up to his door a few times over the next couple of days but stopped herself as soon as her hand touched the handle to his room, as if it was red hot and burning before returning to her own safety.

Lyla slumped on her bed, tossing and turning in an attempt to get to sleep most nights. Many times Bucky almost gave in, he was close to opening the door to let her in, he had even stopped bolting it shut.

Lyla had barely slept and it was taking its toll on her. Her skin had grown pale; dark circles had formed under her now dull lifeless eyes. They no longer looked bright, green and healthy.

Bucky continued to leave any room Lyla was occupying or remove himself not long after she would enter one he was in, he would duck out like a coward. Bucky desperately wanted to go back to being there for Lyla, after what seemed like an age the two had become friends overnight before everything went downhill. But Bucky's thoughts were toxic and unhealthy, at least that's what he thought as he stalked the hallways.

Bucky almost knocked over Sam who came stumbling round the corner, he had been missing all morning. Bucky caught him, placing a hand to his shoulder before he fell. "Woah, what's happened?!" Bucky demanded, holding on to Sam, the two managed to make their way to the kitchen.

Lyla jumped from her spot on a stool as Sam fell to the ground with a thud and a groan. Bucky hadn't meant to release his hold.

"What's happened to him? Did you do this?" She demanded, eyes wide with worry.

Sam managed to shake his head. Bucky had not done anything. Sam had in fact been out secretly meeting with a confidant, it hadn't gone to plan.

Bucky walked away from the scene as Bruce rushed to Sam's side, he grabbed a cloth, holding it to Sam's shoulder. Lyla, fueled with fire, chased after him.

"Stop ignoring me", she shouted as he left through the front entrance.

Bucky forced his eyes closed as he pulled the door open, he could feel her close behind him.

"Coward."

Bucky was so close to turning back to her, to tell her everything. But she was gone, the door shut firmly behind her.

"Stop messing with your IV."

"It itches." Sam said playing with the tubes attached to his arm. "I just want to get home."

"You need to rest. It's literally one more day at most, and then you can go home." Lyla pulled Sam's hand away from the drip.

The wound to his shoulder wasn't too severe but the doctors wanted to keep an eye on him. Bruce had bundled Sam into the car and driven him to the emergency room.

"You've looked out for me, so just let me do the same." Lyla muttered as Sam placed his hand over hers, giving her a soft smile.

Bucky had been standing outside the door, hearing her words. Sam see's him and ushers him inside, reluctantly he approaches the other side of Sam's bedside. "Thanks for having my back." Sam says.

Lyla's brows knitted together, how did Bucky have Sam's back? he basically threw him on the floor, but there wasn't time and this wasn't the place for a sarcastic remark, so Lyla bit her tongue, scoffing slightly. Bucky nodded his head to Sam.

"Are you ever going to tell us where you ran off too?" Lyla asked. Sam looked at her sadly, he couldn't tell her where he had been. Biting her cheek, Lyla dismissed herself. "I'll be back... later."

"Thank you for being here." Bucky says, his eyes holding hers, this was the first time he had addressed her in weeks. She walked past him in silence to Nat waiting outside in her car.

☆

Bucky had secretly gone back to watching Lyla from afar since Sam returned home and seeing her hurting when she thought no was watching was causing him pain. When Wanda or even Sam was around she would put on a facade acting like she was the happiest person in the world. Bucky saw differently and it was all his fault. She had changed because of his actions. He thought back to the day Wanda had seen Lyla's knuckles all torn up.

"What the hell happened to your hands Lyla." Wanda demanded. Taking her friends' hands tenderly in her own. The girl just smiled and played it off.

"Oh. I was silly and forgot to bind my hands." She exclaimed. The lie came out easily. "The punch bag was pretty torn up and I snagged my knuckles on some of the ripped leather. I'll remember to bind them and get a new bag next time." She smiled sheepishly.

Bucky knew different. He had watched as she hit and kicked and punched at the bag dangling in front of her, screaming until she felt the bite of her knuckles splitting, and still she didn't stop. She was relishing in the pain as if punishing herself. He wanted to go up to her then and tell her it wasn't her fault. Bucky wasn't sure he could keep this up for much longer.

Lyla was still none the wiser as to why Bucky had closed himself off again. Nobody had brought it up with either of them, but they had noticed it too. Sam especially, who had in all fairness tried for an answer, but Bucky had practically spat at him and stormed away.

"What's going on man? Between you and-" Sam started to speak, chasing after Bucky, it had been a week since his return from the hospital. Bucky stopped him abruptly, holding up his left hand as a barrier.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Leave it alone." He spat at Sam, denying any problem before stalking away, his eyes brooding.

Sam rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at the situation. He didn't want to upset Lyla by talking about this, she seemed to be... happy... stable. Why was Bucky acting like a douche? He would get to the bottom of this.

Lyla knew it, she'd scared Bucky away. It was infuriating and upsetting. She had thought they were getting closer. The anger had been bubbling up inside of her. She'd kept a brave face around everyone, she was getting good at masking her true feelings, Nat would be proud, even if she hadn't realised a mask was up.

"Wanda couldn't help solve this problem, you can't talk this shit through." Lyla thought aloud to herself one day whilst confined to her room, her fists tightly clenched; pushing into her mattress.

Lyla had been trying to keep her mind blank, forcing out any thoughts in case Wanda got a whiff of her ready to explode. Even FRIDAY hadn't been able to pick up on her emotional changes. Lyla had managed to hack into the system and turn off all the alerts Sam had set up. Lyla felt quite proud of herself. Nat's teachings had become quite useful, and she used them to her advantage.

Lyla would only let some of her bubbling anger loose when in the gym or sparring. It came out with such force that she would feel herself vibrating with rage. It had shocked Sam with wonder when she sent him flying back into the wall. He didn't know she had seen Bucky walk past the large glass doors behind him.

"Oops. Guess I got carried away." She muttered, pulling her lips to the side, hands raised. "I'm sorry, Sam." She said as she helped him to his feet. He just laughed amazed at the girl in front of him.

Lyla really couldn't take it anymore.

One night after dark, when everyone had headed to bed and she was sure everyone would be asleep, Lyla made her way to the control room. Silently tiptoeing along the floor, stopping only when a floor board would creak before she continued on. Lyla searched through file upon file, riffling through every archive she came across, digital and paper; until she found what she was looking for. She had managed to find some classified information on the system. Nat had set up some good defenses around the files, she'd even encrypted them but Lyla got through the barriers surprisingly easily.

"FRIDAY. Please delete all evidence of me being here. Reset all firewalls to how they were about," She whispered, looking at her watch. "twenty minutes ago."

FRIDAY surprisingly complied.

There was a place, a facility, out in the middle of nowhere judging by the location on the map she had found, where the team and someone going by the name of Carter, had taken a handful of Hydra agents to keep them imprisoned. They, Sam included, had kept this information from her. She understood in some respects why. They had predicted she would do exactly what she was planning to.

Lyla was going after them, the people that tortured her, she wanted her revenge, for what she had to endure, what they did to her family. She had waited long enough. She wanted an end to everything, she wanted out of everything. What the team hadn't anticipated was that Lyla didn't want to come back, she wasn't coming back. Lyla thought she had found peace and acceptance here, clearly not. Not with everyone. This whole charade of happy families was over.

Flicking off the lights and creeping to the garage, Lyla grabbed a helmet, the same she had worn before when learning to ride the bike with Bucky, she admired it briefly before slinging the rucksack she had with her on her back. Clicking a switch and hearing the whirring of mechanics, she wheeled Bucky's bike out of the garage doors, as quietly as she could. She had, with the help of FRIDAY, disabled the CCTV and the garage door alarm, enabling an easy escape.

It was late, early hours of the morning now. The moon was high and bright in the sky, not a cloud in sight. Lyla heard an owl hoot in the distance. Peace. That was what she was after. Peace.

Everyone should be asleep, or so Lyla thought. They wouldn't notice she had gone until it was too late. Lyla had been given the all clear medically around a month ago, she really had hidden her distress well. She was finally able to leave the compound without being tracked down or dragged back.

Lyla was about to ride into the night when tears started to prick at her eyes. She had left her room, her belongings, everything behind. Him behind.

"He doesn't need you. No one needs you." A nagging voice, full of poison, in the back of her mind thought. She pushed it aside, focusing on what she needed to do.

Lyla started the bike; speeding off down the gravel path, dust lifted before settling again as she left everything behind. She didn't look back.

Bucky saw Lyla flee, he had been watching her from the shadows for so long now. He watched on as she wiped the tears from her eyes and saw the slightest hint of hesitation in her footsteps as she walked with the bike; finally mounting it and riding off into the night. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to move.

"What have I done?" A whimper escaped his throat, his eyes glistening, he knew she was not coming back. He made his way to Lyla's room with speed and efficiency, suddenly finding his feet. He found a note:

I'm sorry.

I can't do this anymore.

The pain is unbearable and I can't keep it bottled up any longer.

I thought I had finally found a family, a place of acceptance, but I'm isolated.

I gave myself away.

My heart and mind has always been broken... for a time you fixed a part of it, but I need an escape.

I have to get my revenge. For my family. For my sanity. For you.

I'm not coming back.

I'm truly sorry.

I have to do this.

Delilah.

Tears rolled down Bucky's face as he took in the finality of Lyla's letter. 

She was gone.