05 | ᴀ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟ ᴛʀᴀɪɴᴡʀᴇᴄᴋ

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THE MAN offered Mor a friendly smile before glancing down at his wristwatch that Mor thought looked like something antique fanatics would be after

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THE MAN offered Mor a friendly smile before glancing down at his wristwatch that Mor thought looked like something antique fanatics would be after.

"It is currently 0508." He said, glancing back up from the watch into the terrified eyes of Morana Lamia.

There was a moment of awkward silence that hung between the two. Though it only seemed to bother Mor, Steve was just unsure how to handle the situation. Thinking this was over, he turned to leave after giving her a small wave. As his stocky body turned away from her, she felt the anxiety creep in, she wanted him to leave but on the other hand, there was a screaming ghost yelling his head off.

"Sabrina! Don't let him walk away! Say something! Tell him he still owes me a new coffee machine and he better have fixed the living room floorboards!" she was convinced that if Tony was alive his face would be flaming red right now.

But she didn't have much time to focus on him because Captain America was about to run for the hills.

"Morana!"

"Tony wants to know if you've fixed the floorboards!" she yelled louder then necessary before flinching and taking a step back when the large man turned around to face her again. He stood stock still while Mor was trembling like a leaf, she could feel a trail of sweat running down her back. Why couldn't she just cleanse her home and send Tony Starks spirit elsewhere? She should've just boofed him away. Or maybe call a legit priest to do it for her.

"I'm sorry?" he had taken a bit more guarded stance but not hostile, his blue eyes assessing the trembling girl.

Tony facepalmed.

"Well done kid, just terrific."

Mor sent him a heated glare before focusing her gaze on Captain America's running shoes again.

"I'm a psychic, which means I sometimes talk to the dead. I'm sorry for- for startling you like that. But there's a restless spirit named Tony Stark who demanded I ask you if you have fixed the floorboards and left his projects untouched." Mor stuttered out as she glanced back up at him to gauge his reaction.

For a second he didn't say anything, but rather scanned their surroundings before looking down at her again. Seeing the distress visible on her face made him relax slightly.

"I'm sorry, I'm not permitted to discuss these things. Where are your parents, kid?" he asked gently, looking around again.

Mor was mortified, he just brushed her off like a fly on the wall.

"I swear I'm going to haunt your dreams Rogers."

"I- well, I can understand the hesitation. It is difficult to believe the dead talk, but trust me, they do. Some never seem to stop." she almost whispered the last part, earning a glare from Tony.

"I admit I am a bit doubtful. How old are you? I don't think it's that safe for you to be wandering the streets alone this early." there was genuine concern in his voice as he placed his hands on his knees and crouched a bit lower to be on eye level with her.

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