He wasn't paying attention to the way the kid was mending. Better that he didn't know, there were ways he could exploit that. None of them pretty colored. Seeing parts of this other person open, the mouth, the eyes going white round the edges. People had so many pieces, they fit together so clean. It was fascinating. There was an itch, you could call it, running him up and down like needles, telling him that there was maybe a time he could have been open, too.

It was only an itch. There was nothing for it to blossom into.

Was obvious the kid couldn't lie. "If you're not after the Cube, why the hell track me down? And don't give me any of that Bucky crap. I'm tired of being confused for somebody else."