Chapter Text
It happened again. Winter had woken wrapped in cashmere, his head propped on a soft cushion with no memory of how he had gotten the comfortable items. This time he was curled cat like across the seats under the dining table in the common room in Avengers Tower. Last week it had been the ventilation shafts that ran between the 86th and 87th floors; the month prior he had woken on the quinjet floor, on top of a coffee table in Steve's room and somehow twice in the Hulk Containment Room; each time he woke he was swathed in soft warm blankets, or had his head resting on a thick cushion or memory foam pillow with no recollection of how he got there.