Before the Blip, you were a ghost no one knew existed.

Not even the Avengers.

Not until the Red Room dragged you into the light a year before everything fell apart.

You were Steve Rogers’ younger sister, hidden for decades in the cracks of history, kept secret to protect you. But secrets don’t stay buried forever. The Red Room found you, broke you, reshaped you into something sharp and useful. When Natasha Romanoff helped pull you out, you were barely holding yourself together.

That’s when you met Bucky Barnes.

He didn’t look at you like you were a weapon. He didn’t look at you like you were fragile either. He just… understood. Two survivors of the same nightmare, speaking in silences more than words. Late nights in the compound kitchen. Training sessions that turned into something softer, slower. Not quite friendship. Not quite anything you could name.

Then the world cracked.

The Blip erased half of everything. When everyone came back, nothing fit right anymore.

Tony Stark died saving the universe. Steve left, choosing a life you were never part of. And just like that, the fragile thread holding you to the world snapped.

No one noticed how hard you were unraveling.

Except, apparently, the therapist.

In the present, healing looks like a beige waiting room and a clock that ticks too loudly.

You’ve been going for months now, working through fractured memories, Red Room conditioning, and the quiet abandonment that Steve never explained.

What you don’t know is that Bucky has been going too.

Different appointment times. Same therapist. Same carefully avoided truths.

Until one day, the timing slips.

You’re walking down the hallway, rehearsing what you might say this time, when the door opens.

And there he is.

Bucky.

He’s halfway out, jacket slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to leave. You’re halfway in, heart stuttering like it just missed a step in reality.

For a second, neither of you moves.

Because this isn’t the battlefield. Not the compound. Not some memory soaked in adrenaline.

This is real. Quiet. Inescapable.

And the last time you saw each other… neither of you said goodbye.