Shuri is explaining something about the notebooks and the scan she'd made of Bucky's brain and how she's been approaching his deprogramming, but even with a second cup of coffee – obtained after poking stubbornly at the coffee maker once again – Sharon keeps finding her focus drifting in and out.

She's here. She made it. She found him, after all these weeks of worry and stress.

She's been focused on this for so long, she's not actually sure what she should do now. Had she thought much past seeing him, giving him the backpack and the books? Had she considered a plan at all for after?

Not really. But maybe it's not a surprise. She can't imagine how much worse the last six weeks would have been if she hadn't had a specific goal in place, something to focus on, anchor herself with.

And it worked...but now what?

"Sharon," says Shuri, and Sharon blinks at her because it sounds like maybe Shuri had said it a couple of times.

The younger girl's eyes are kind and knowing. "You have not been listening to a word I said," she chides, smiling, and Sharon breathes out a laugh.

"Sorry," she says, sincerely. "It'd all go over my head anyway. But...he's really getting better, isn't he? I know it'll take a long time and he's still healing, but...it's happening. He's getting there."

Shuri nods, and her expression is very fond. "He is. And we will help him for as long as it takes. He can be whole again."

Sharon thinks of a small glass ornament, all cracks and gold wire and gunmetal loveliness, and smiles. "I know he can."