Chapter Three

Fionna

Soon, Bucky introduced me to his friend, Sam Wilson—known to many as the Falcon. Sam exuded a friendly warmth, his easy smile making me feel a little more at ease in this strange new world. He leaned back against the porch railing, his presence steady and reassuring.

"So, you've got her hanging around your apartment now?" Sam teased, casting a playful glance at Bucky. I settled myself nearby, allowing the sunlight to bathe my scales in warmth, feeling invigorated by its touch as the two men exchanged banter and laughter.

Bucky shrugged, the motion more uncertain than casual, his eyes flickering with a hesitation that didn't quite match the usual aloofness he wore. "Well, she's a house cat now, I guess."

Sam raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He didn't try to hide the amusement, though there was a genuine spark of curiosity in his eyes. "Has she shown any other side besides being a raptor?"

Bucky's lips pressed together in a tight line, as if he were holding something back. His shoulders stiffened and his gaze fell to the floor for a moment, the silence stretching between them like a thread, taut and fragile. "No," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "I found her like this. Whatever those people in that lab did to her... I don't think she can turn back into a human."

The words hung in the air, heavy with something unspoken—something between the lines of Bucky's own memories and the mystery of a creature caught between two worlds. Sam didn't speak immediately, but his eyes softened. He understood the weight of it: the unknown, the helplessness in finding someone—or something—you couldn't quite save.

I tilted my head and sniffed the air, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I can hear you two," I said, the words a bit muffled but clear enough.

The two men froze, their faces flushing with embarrassment. Bucky's cheeks tinged a dull red as he rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, "Sorry."

Sam just shook his head with a laugh, clearly trying to stifle it. "Guess we're not as subtle as we thought."

I gave a soft, amused purr, not exactly bothered by their quiet conversation. They could whisper all they wanted, but it didn't change the fact that I could still hear them loud and clear.

The light flickered across the yard as I stood, the shadows of the trees shifting beneath the sun. My skin felt the heat, but it didn't soothe the cold that gnawed at my insides.

"It's alright," I murmured, my voice low, barely a growl. "Just know..." I turned to face them both, red eyes gleaming, the weight of what I was pressing down on my words. "I can't shift back to human. I don't even have human in me anymore."

Bucky and Sam exchanged a glance, but it was Sam who spoke first, his voice gentle but probing. "Then where did you learn to speak?"

I flinched, the question cutting deeper than I expected. My mind flashed back to the countless moments—the sharp sting of fists, the bruises that felt permanent, the silence of a cage until a word would escape. I didn't want to think about the people who made me say it, the ones who taught me by violence and repetition.

"Training," I muttered, the word tasting bitter in my mouth, a small, quiet rebellion against all that had been forced upon me.

Without another word, I turned, heading back inside, away from their questions, away from the reality that I couldn't escape—no matter how far I ran.

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Hours passed, the silence heavy in the air, until Bucky finally came back inside. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, the faint clink of something inside it catching my attention.

"Fiona, come," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

I jerked my head up, ears twitching at the sound of my name. For a moment, my gaze flicked to the dog bed he'd bought me, the comfort of it almost mocking in its simplicity. I wasn't sure if I was ready to move from it.

"What?" I asked, my voice grumpy, the word coming out more like a growl than anything.

Bucky's smile was small but genuine, something soft in his expression that I couldn't ignore. "We're going on an adventure," he said, the excitement in his tone contrasting sharply with my reluctance.

An adventure. The word hung in the air, unfamiliar and tempting. I didn't know what that meant for someone like me, but maybe—just maybe—it was worth finding out.

I stood up, my muscles stiff from hours of lying still, and padded over to him, brushing against his chest with a soft nudge. Bucky chuckled, his hand coming down to pat my back between my shoulders, where the quills still remained, not quite the same as they once had been, but a part of me all the same. We both headed out, stepping into the cool air, where Sam was already waiting beside his sleek black car. He smiled at us, but the grin faltered as his eyes flicked between me and the car.

"Awe, gonna fit her in the trunk?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow, his voice a mix of concern and amusement.

I stiffened, instinctively shrugging my shoulders in a way that made the tension in my body obvious. I wasn't about to be shoved into a trunk.

"I don't need to be stuffed in a trunk," I muttered, my voice sharp. "I'll just run." I gave a slight flick of my tail, as if to emphasize the point. Running was easier for me than being confined.

Sam raised his hands in mock surrender, though there was a trace of understanding in his eyes. "Alright, alright, no trunk. We'll figure it out." But I could see the hesitation still in his face, like he wasn't sure how this was all going to work.

Bucky gave Sam a look—one of those "don't worry, I've got it" glances—and then turned to me with a half-smile. "Come on, then. Adventure, remember?" He nudged me forward, and I followed, not quite sure what the next step was, but for once, feeling like maybe there was a chance for something different. Something that didn't involve cages or restraints.

I pushed myself faster, the familiar thrill of speed coursing through me as I bolted between the trees, the ground beneath my paws a blur. The roar of the car behind me was almost comforting, a sign that Bucky and Sam were right there, not too far off, keeping up with my pace.

A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth, my tail flicking behind me in excitement. This—this was freedom. The wind ruffled my fur, the scent of the forest sharp in my nose.

I smiled, feeling the wild energy surge through me. This was going to be fun.