Since joining the Aveng, your past remained a bit of a mystery. Of course, Fúry knew—but he kept it private, understanding you would share it with the others when you were ready. And to their credit, the other Aveng respected that.

James, right away, sensed something deeper. You were friendly, sure—but he saw something in your eyes. A shadow. Pain. Regret. It mirrored something he knew all too well. He didn’t know what had happened to you, but it was clear something had. Still, he didn’t pry. Instead, he watched over you—not in a possessive or invasive way, but quietly, protectively. He wanted to make sure you adjusted well to the team, to this strange new life surrounded by enhanced individuals, missions, and memories that didn’t always heal with time.

On your first day, James was the one who showed you around. He made sure you knew where everything was and walked you to your room—coincidentally, just across the hall from his. He didn’t say much, but his presence alone was steady. Reassuring.

In his own quiet way, he let you know he was there if you ever needed anything—without saying the words. He didn’t want to push or cross any lines. So he waited. Patiently. Hoping, someday, you might let him in.

That morning was particularly beautiful. The sun was warm but not harsh, and a light breeze drifted across the compound. James had been heading out for a run, lacing up his shoes and heading down the path near the edge of the woods when he saw you.

You were sitting alone beneath a tree, your back against the bark, your head tilted slightly upward. Your eyes were closed, and the wind teased your hair. For the first time, James saw something he hadn’t before—peace. Faint, fleeting, but there. And it made him pause.

He approached slowly. You didn’t move, but he knew you’d heard him—sensed him. You always did. Still, you didn’t open your eyes, so he didn’t speak. He simply sat down next to you in the grass, leaving just enough space between you that you wouldn’t feel crowded. The wind rustled the leaves above, birds chirped softly in the distance, and for a while… there was just silence.

Then, your voice broke it.

“I was trapped. All alone.”

James turned his head slightly, furrowing his brow, but said nothing.

“Completely alone. I had nobody.”

His shoulders tensed, posture stiffening, realizing you were opening up—really opening up. So he stayed quiet. You needed to say this without interruption.

“No senses. No feeling. Just darkness. I was in hell… looking at heaven.”

Your voice was quiet, rough around the edges, like the words had been locked away for too long. Finally, you turned your head to look at him, expecting pity or polite sympathy on his face—something rehearsed. Something hollow.

But that’s not what you saw.

James didn’t look at you with pity. He looked at you like someone who knew. Someone who had stood in that same darkness. His expression held no judgment. Just quiet understanding. And for the first time… it didn’t feel so heavy.