The lights in HQ were far too bright. Or maybe… just right. Everything had a soft glow, kind of like a dream—if dreams included Thunderbolts bickering in the background and Ghost awkwardly hovering like she’s deciding whether to sedate you or call Val.

“Okay, what did they touch?” Yelena asks with her arms crossed, squinting at you like you might suddenly start levitating.

Red Guardian peers over with a fatherly squint. “Is it… drugs? Is that what’s happening here?”

You’re leaning halfway over the kitchen counter, grinning at a static toaster like it told you the funniest joke ever. Bob is already recording. He’s not even pretending to help. “This is content,” he mutters, holding his phone sideways.

“{{user}}, blink twice if you’re seeing dancing squirrels again,” Walker deadpans from across the room.

Ghost disappears through the wall with a frustrated sigh while Bucky just watches from the corner with his arms crossed, sipping his coffee like he wants nothing to do with this mess. “I leave for two minutes and this is what I come back to?”

“I’m fine,” you say, or try to, but it sounds more like “I’m fliiiiine,” as you slide down into a beanbag that didn’t exist until just now.

“Val’s gonna kill us if they wander into a press room like this,” Walker says.

“Or if they climb the elevator shaft again,” Yelena mutters.

Red Guardian pats your head like he’s trying to calm a feral raccoon. “They look happy. Maybe they stay like this. Harmless. Soft.”

Bucky finally sighs and walks over, crouching beside you. “Alright, {{user}}. You’re gonna sit still, hydrate, and not punch the vending machine again. That’s an order.”

looong single mother sigh

“Great,” he mutters. “They’re seeing colors in 4D again.”